The Ranger (Highland Guard #3)(67)

But at the last minute, something stayed his hand. Killing Ross would put an end to his mission. He’d be forced to flee, and his opportunity to destroy Lorn would be lost.

It took every shred of control he had left not to move. But he let Ross walk out of the room. He let him live. This time.

Anna, however, would not escape his wrath so easily. He was going to make damned sure she had only one answer to give Ross in the morning. This planned betrothal of hers was about to come to a decisive end.

Ross’s footsteps had barely faded before Anna started to follow him. As she reached the door, Arthur slid out of the shadows to block her path.

She gasped. Any fear she might have felt quickly faded in the sudden flash of anger that set her eyes blazing. “How dare you spy on me!” She tried to push him out of the way, but he clasped her wrists in his hand. “Let go of me, you have no right.”

He spun her into the room and shut the door behind him. “I have every right,” he seethed. “You aren’t going to marry him.”

He could see her cheeks flush in the candlelight. Her chest—her incredible, too-ample chest that he couldn’t stop dreaming about—heaved with righteous indignation. That sweet face with its adorable, stubborn chin lifted to his. “Yes. I. Am.”

He didn’t like her tone at all. Not one bit. His eyes narrowed. “You couldn’t even kiss him.” He leaned closer, inhaling the sultry warmth of her fury. “How will it be, do you think, to bed him?”

She made a sharp sound of outrage. If she’d a dagger in her hand, Arthur had no doubt it would now be stuck between his ribs. But her tongue eviscerated just as painfully. “I suspect I will get used to it. Perhaps even come to enjoy it. Sir Hugh is a very handsome man. And he seems quite determined, don’t you think?” Her eyes taunted. Challenged. Driving him insane. “Yes, if it’s anything like that kiss, I imagine I’ll come to enjoy it quite a lot.”

He grabbed her arm. “Stop.” He shook her to him. “Stop.” He felt as if he were going to explode. Feelings he’d kept so long contained had been whipped to a frenzy by her taunting words. Feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge. Feelings he couldn’t let out. His head spun. His chest burned. God, it hurt. He had to make her stop.

“Why?” she demanded, leaning closer to him. The tips of her br**sts grazed his chest, and he shook—he actually shook, every inch of his body poised on the knife-edge of restraint. Heat pulled him down a dark vortex of lust and desire. He wanted to crush her to him. To kiss her. To ravish her senseless. To make her scream his name and his alone.

“Why should I stop? It’s the truth. Sir Hugh strikes me as a man who sees what he wants and won’t let anything stand in the way until he gets it.”

He knew she was goading him, but he didn’t care. Arthur knew exactly what he wanted, damn it. Her.

He swore, knowing the battle was lost. He took her into his arms and crushed his mouth to hers, giving in to the powerful feelings that had been waging war inside him.

He kissed her like he’d never kissed another woman before. He kissed her with all the passion that had been building inside from the first. He kissed her to make her stop. He kissed her to wipe away the hateful images she’d branded in his mind. He kissed her so she would never think about another man again.

But when she melted against him in silent surrender and opened her sweet little mouth to his with a sigh and a moan, he wasn’t thinking about missions or alliances, enemy clans or revenge. Nay, all he was thinking about was making her his.

Fifteen

Anna knew she was being rash, knew she was provoking him, but she didn’t care. Anger blinded her to anything but the need to lash out.

She hated him for interfering. For making her hesitate. For getting in the way of her plans.

All she’d ever wanted to do was protect her family and keep the people she loved safe. And now, when she had the chance, Arthur Campbell stood in her way.

He confused her. Confounded her. Made her care about him and then pushed her away. He saved her and protected her one moment, and then ignored her the next. He was an outsider, a man who kept himself apart and seemed as if he didn’t need anyone. But he was also lonely, a man who’d been forced to the periphery by gifts that set him apart.

Did he want her? Did he need her?

One way or another, he would have to decide. Time had run out for them both. So she pushed. Knowing he was jealous. Knowing he’d seen the kiss Sir Hugh had given her. Knowing he was struggling for control.

She wanted him so badly. Standing so close to him, all she could think about was how good he smelled. How the dark shadow of his beard made him look even more ruggedly handsome. How tall he was. How broad his chest was. How soft his mouth looked even when white with anger. How she would give anything if he would take her in his arms and never let go.

Pain stabbed her chest. Why didn’t he want her? Why was he holding back?

So recklessly—desperately—she taunted him, wanting to hurt him as he’d hurt her. So what if it was a lie? So what if the thought of herself in bed with another man made her blood run cold? Enjoy? She could barely stop herself from trembling in fear in Sir Hugh’s presence.

When he snapped, she had her reward. Anna found herself in his arms with his mouth on hers, and he was kissing her with all the passion and emotion of which she’d dreamed.