Page 96 of The Dragon Laird’s Obsession

Finally, he set his glass aside, rose, and began walking to the door.

“Daenae leave,” she blurted, the words almost a plea that made him stop in his tracks.

Slowly, Gordon turned to look at her.

His brow was drawn tight, a deep crease marking the space between his eyes. His jaw worked once then again, as though he were fighting the words before they reached his tongue. His eyes held hers, but there was a raw look in them, as if he were torn between wanting to come closer and fearing what would happen if he did.

“If I remain around ye too long,” he said quietly, “I will forget…” He stopped and ran the tip of his tongue over his lips before raking his fingers through his hair and looking away from her with another rough curse muttered under his breath.

Ailis’ heart began to beat harder. “Forget what?” The words were a whispering breath that she dared not take.

Gordon crossed the room to her in quick strides then stopped facing her as she gasped and took an instinctive step back. He was so close that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.

His breath brushed her cheek. “I will forget that this is nae meant to be.”

Her heart stumbled as her eyes held onto his, and she felt his breath near her face, rhyming with hers.

“I will forget that I promised myself I wouldnae touch ye before the binding.”

Ailis’ lips parted, and Gordon’s gaze dropped to them.

“I will forget that I should keep me distance and that I remember yer taste in me mouth like it was only tonight I kissed ye.”

Ailis nearly stopped breathing as she words rasped out of him. Her heart pounded so fast, she feared it would erupt. “Gordon,” she murmured, his name silky on her lips.

Her fingers curled into her skirts, and she could hear not just the rain beyond the windows but also her own heartbeat plummeting harder than any Highland drums she had ever listened to.

Every inch of space between them began to fade as they drew closer to each other. He still looked at her as though he were fighting something within himself.

“Saints preserve me, Ailis.”

Her cheeks warmed as his breath fanned her face now. She should step away from him, but her feet remained rooted to the floor, and her body trembled from the heat that seeped into her just from his nearness.

“I am the Dragon, Ailis, and I spit fire,” he whispered, but the words were husky in her ears and only in her ears. “I will burn ye if ye daenae leave.”

Ailis swallowed. His voice had dropped to that rough, husky register that seemed to vibrate through her rather than simply reach her ears. Each word drew her attention back to him, to the warmth of his body only inches from hers, to the quiet intensity in his eyes.

Her pulse quickened. A strange flutter moved beneath her ribs and settled lower, leaving her suddenly conscious of every breath she took. She wanted to move closer though every sensible thought told her to remain where she was.

His scent surrounded her, familiar now: smoke from the hearth, leather, clean Highland air. She drew a shallow breath, and her heart stumbled.

Why does he make me feel like this?

She could feel warmth gathering beneath her skin. Her fingers curled lightly into her skirts, searching for something to anchor herself while his voice continued in that low, intimate murmur.

She looked at his mouth then quickly back to his eyes.

He noticed, and her breath caught. The wanting inside her frightened her a little, but it did not make her retreat. If anything, it made the space between them feel impossibly small.

She wanted his attention.

And his touch. I want him closer to me till there is nay space between us.

His eyes searched hers like he was giving her a chance… a way out. She knew it. Yet the thought of leaving him standing there, alone with all the things he had finally admitted, made something inside her ache.

“And what if…” Her voice came barely above a whisper. “… I am nae longer afraid of gettin’ burned?”

Gordon went utterly still.