Page 82 of My Highland Love

He sat, then gave a gentle but firm yank to her hand, and she tumbled onto his lap.

“I cannot—” she began, but he cut in.

“Let us be honest.”

“I have been—”

“You say,” he continued, “you will be my mistress now that you know I never planned to marry Margaret.”

“I never—”

“But wouldn't it be more honest to admit you love me?”

Her eyes widened.

“You can trust me.” Marcus discerned a quickening of her breath. He'd hit the mark. “For you know,” he added, “I love you.”

Elise gasped. He felt the muscles in her body tense in readiness to push from his lap and tightened his hold. She thrashed, though without real violence, and he gripped her chin, turning her face toward his.

“Admit you love me.” He kissed her.

She tried pulling away, but he held fast, his mouth gentle until he felt a slight tug when she grasped his shirt. He released her mouth and buried his face in her hair.

“Can you deny what you feel for me?”

“You don't know—can't possibly know—”

“I know all I need.”

She grasped his shoulder and pushed him back until their gazes met. “Today doesn't matter. Tomorrow your fancy may change.”

Marcus stared at her. “I am no young buck. I know what I want.”

She gave a mirthless laugh. “Age has little to do with a man's desire.”

He started to speak, to explain that her younger age might not allow for the understanding of his more experienced wisdom, but he stopped, remembering the empty marriage she'd endured.

“Hmm,” he began slowly. “One day your feelings for me shall fade?”

“You are cruel,” she cried. “You know that is not my meaning.”

Marcus's chest tightened. She hadn't denied loving him. He gently squeezed her hand. “I am not Riley.”

Elise twisted in his arms in an earnest attempt at escape. “You overstep your bounds, milord.”

He barely repressed a sudden laugh when she thumped his arm with a small fist. She shoved at his chest and Marcus hugged her so close their lips almost met.

“Surely, I have proven I am not faithless,” he demanded.

“Faithless? Good Lord, you're lucky I don't sacrifice you for my own selfish needs.”

“Needs? Aye, lass, you need me. Nae,” he added when she opened her mouth to interject. “Don't think I am ignorant of your needs.” He slid a hand into her hair. “They are not unlike my own.”

Marcus kissed her. She breathed deep and he felt his body throb with a need that he now realized had only begun to surface. What would he have done that first day he saw her in the meadow had he known just how badly he would one day need her? Send his men away and take her there—leave her no choice, nowhere to go but to him? Turning and fleeing straight back to Ashlund would have been the wisest course of action. But he would not have—could not have—even then. He had loved—or thought he loved—other women. He had been hurt in the past, but Elise held the power to destroy him. He slid his mouth down her chin and along her neck to the swell of her breast. Her head fell back onto his arm without resistance.

“You would marry a stranger?” she murmured.

Marcus froze.