Page 40 of When the Laird Conquers

But then he pulled back, breathing hard, and set her back down on her feet.

“This shouldnae have happened,” he rasped, backing away. “Leave.”

“But—”

“Leave, now. Before I do something that means ye’ll never be able to leave. Before I forget that this is fake,” he growled.

It didn’t escape Agnes’s notice that it was the first time he had used her name, not ‘lass’ or ‘Sunshine.’ But she was too crushed by his dismissal to find any cheer in it. And what did he mean, before he did something that meant she would never be able to leave? Was he threatening her now?

She didn’t understand what she had done wrong, didn’t understand why he had stopped something that felt so… good. The first thing that had made her feel truly herself in months, if not far longer.

But she was not going to beg or plead or let him have the satisfaction of seeing her disappointment. She would not prove him right.

With a sniff, she lifted her chin, wished him a terse “goodnight,” and left, just as he demanded.

You are no beast, Gordon. And I will not let you be what you are not.

If he thought this was the last he would see of her, that she would abide by his rule to keep out of his way, he was about to receive a nasty shock. About as nasty as one moment feeling as if she could fly, only to be rudely tossed back down to earth with a bump the next.

15

Gordon hadn’t slept. There had been no hope of a peaceful rest with thoughts of that infuriating, tempting, breathtaking woman hammering through his skull.

And not just thoughts now, but memories: how her skin had felt beneath the rough touch of his palm; how full and inviting her breasts were; how deliciously soft and shapely her backside was; how silky her hair was; and how intense her kiss could be, somehow still burning against his lips.

Abandoning his tower, its harmony completely shattered by her intrusion, he had gone to his study. He was still there, behind his desk, when the sun came up. He was still there when it had fully risen, the light brightening the room, for he hadn’t closed the drapes in here since Agnes had opened them.

I should have sent her to Laird McCandless. He’d have been better suited.

There was a man adored by his clan. A man who thrived on gatherings and feasts and reveling in his popularity. He even invited a few English lords to hunt on his grounds sometimes, less averse to the southerners than most. And he didn’t yet have a wife, and wasn’t too old.

Rubbing his tired eyes, he cut a fresh piece of paper and dipped his quill in ink. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to see Agnes and Lizzy placed somewhere where they too might thrive.

He had barely put the nib to the paper when the door opened and Agnes barged in.

“Good morning, my Laird,” she chirped, Lizzy strapped to her in a fabric wrap.

He needed a moment to blink and rub his eyes again, to make certain that he hadn’t dropped asleep on his desk and was now dreaming.

What was she doing here? Had he not made his point clear enough last night when he had sent her away? True, he hadn’t specifically said that he didn’t want to see her again, but he had assumed it was implied.

Aye, that confirms it. The lass is mad.

“Mornin’, Sunshine,” he said flatly, keeping his eyes on the paper that now bore nothing but a growing splotch of ink.

She came closer, this woman who rescued fox cubs, kissed dangerous men, and would probably not think twice about walking right up to a bear and scratching its belly. A madwoman, indeed.

“Will you be going out to the villages again today?” she asked, sitting down in the chair opposite, not bothering to ask permission.

Her cheeks were rosy, as if she had run here.

The charming color served as an all-too-potent reminder of last night and how warm her skin had been. It had been dim in the tower, but he could well imagine that her blushes had looked something like that.

How much rosier they would have been if I hadnae stopped when I did…

The nib of his quill snapped. He hadn’t even realized he was pressing it so hard against the paper.

“Aye,” he said, calmly retrieving another. “I’ll soon have word of yer duke.”