The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(68)

She assuaged her guilt by telling herself that she was doing no lasting harm, that after years of perfect propriety and attending to the needs of everyone else, she deserved these few selfish, stolen moments of happiness. But she knew she was only trying to justify something that could not be justified—no matter how right it felt.

And it did feel right. Looking into his eyes as he touched her—as she touched him—as they brought each other to the highest peak and then catapulted into a realm of unimaginable ecstasy, she knew she would never feel anything like it again. Perhaps this had been a mistake. For now she would have to live with the knowledge of what she was missing.

But she could not regret it.

She snuggled closer to him and sighed, wanting to hold on to this moment for as long as she could. Who would have thought that Lady Elyne de Burgh, one of the greatest heiresses in Ireland, could be content to lie in a dilapidated barn on a pile of hay, the musty scent of livestock filling her nose, bundled in the steely embrace of a pirate?

But never had she felt so cherished and protected—or so happy.

She could almost convince herself that this meant something. That these feelings they aroused when touching each other were not just lust. That when she looked into his eyes he felt the same intense, heart-tugging connection that she did.

Almost.

No matter how right it felt, she could not let herself forget that it was only temporary and nothing serious. Passion for passion’s sake. But it was getting harder and harder to remind herself of that, when her own feelings were in such turmoil.

She didn’t know how this could have happened to her. She wasn’t supposed to let her emotions get tangled up in passion. She knew the type of man he was—he was wrong for her in every way—and that caring about him would lead only to heartbreak and disappointment. But she did care about him. More than she should.

If he were just a handsome face, he would be so much easier to resist. But she was drawn to him like she’d never been drawn to a man before. He lived life to the extreme, turning everything into an adventure. He made her remember all the things she’d been missing in life—the fun, the excitement, and the passion. Life with him would never be boring.

But his larger-than-life, living-life-on-the-edge personality didn’t inspire thoughts of constancy and stability. She wanted to think that he cared for her but wasn’t sure that he was capable of commitment—of letting someone in. As much as she admired his unflappability, it was also what gave her caution. Nothing seemed to get to him. Not danger, and not people, either.

Still, the more time they spent together, the more she was convinced that there was far more to Hawk than met the eye. She caught flashes of something deeper beneath the swaggering pirate with the devil-may-care smile—a man with more honor and nobility than he wanted to admit. He was an enigma. It was like looking at a puzzle without all the pieces.

She didn’t even know his real name.

And he didn’t know hers.

Part of her wanted to tell him, but she knew that the moment she did, this would all be over. That very un-pirate-like sense of nobility would put an end to cozy moments in the barn and private explorations around the island.

A wry smile turned her mouth. Maybe she should tell him so he could force her to marry him for her wealth.

The thought—even in jest—took her aback. Is that what she wanted, to marry him? She wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the idea, but she couldn’t quite muster the humor.

So much for not getting serious.

He drew lazy circles on her back with his hand. “What are you thinking about?”

She hesitated, knowing she was about to test the unspoken boundary they’d erected between them. “That I don’t even know your real name.”

She felt him stiffen. For a moment, all she could hear was the steady beat of his heart. She anticipated the refusal before he spoke.

“I can’t tell you,” he said. “There are things …” His voice dropped off. “It’s complicated. Trust me when I say that you are better off not knowing.”

Complicated—which they were not. Her chest twisted. Nothing special. Nothing serious.

Ellie tried to hide her disappointment, but after what they had just shared and the turmoil of her own feelings, it was a bitter draught to swallow. “I understand,” she whispered against his chest.

He tilted her chin and forced her gaze to his. “This is all new to you, te bheag. What you are feeling … it’s natural. But don’t confuse passion with something else.”

The kindness in his eyes cut like a dagger. Her cheeks flooded with heat. If she weren’t so mortified, she would recognize the irony. Hadn’t she once accused him of the same thing: confusing lust with love? In the face of her own turmoil, his warning felt like lye on a raw wound.

But the regret she read in his expression helped ease her hurt a little. “You don’t understand,” he said. “But it’s the way it must be for now.”

For now. She tried not to attach any significance to the words, but her foolish chest swelled all the same.

Her head kept reminding her of all the reasons it was impossible, but her heart didn’t seem to care. Even aside from the matter of her engagement, and that she was the daughter of an earl and he an outlaw—which were not insignificant barriers—there was the matter of his feelings for her. For him, this was a pleasant way of passing time, nothing more.