Page 69 of When a Lady Kisses a Scot
His jaw hardened. “Bloody hell.”
“As you can see, there may be a connection.” She swallowed against the tension in her throat. She had to guard against revealing too much, against telling him anything that might reveal the truth of her identity. “I needed to warn you of the danger.”
“And that you have.”
She extricated herself from his light hold. “It is time I took my leave… I’ve said enough.”
He strode toward her, cutting the distance with long strides. “I’d rather you stayed.”
“I have obligations I cannot neglect. Besides, I’ve already scandalized Mrs. Edson with my presence. You can well imagine the good woman’s shock when Bertram and I roused her from her sleep.”
“She spoke rather highly of you this morning.”
“Is that so?”
“In her words, you’re a brave girl. And…” He shot her a sly look. “You don’t have a broomstick up your bum.”
Sophie laughed despite herself. “You don’t say. How very touching. Am I to assume the other women you’ve brought here had a stick positioned in that precise spot?”
Amusement shined in his gaze. “You could say that.”
“My, how uncomfortable for them that must have been.”
His subtle smile triggered a fresh ripple of awareness. “Sophie, you never fail to surprise me.”
She wandered to the side table and selected a leather-bound volume of poetry.Leaves of Grass.“I might say the same. I had not envisioned you as an aficionado of Whitman.”
“I’d be hard-pressed to pen a single stanza. Perhaps that’s why I developed an appreciation for someone else’s finely wrought verse.” His eyes took on a stormy cast as his voice lowered and grew rough. “I tend to display an admiration for talents I do not possess and a passion for acquiring that which I cannot have.”
The implication of his words was clear. Or was she merely allowing her heart’s own longing to flavor her understanding?
“You’ve described a common thread that binds us all, a longing for that which is off-limits.”
His mouth curved in a subtle smile. “Forbidden fruit. Always the sweetest.”
The heat in his quiet rasp washed over her, drawing out the desire she’d locked away, the longing she needed so desperately to hide.
She swallowed against the blastedly persistent lump in her throat and tried in vain for a calming draught of air.
“Perhaps it is the peril of succumbing to temptation that makes us hunger for it all the more.”
“Indeed.” He managed to infuse the single word with a note of persuasion. Of danger.
Another soft gulp of air, and she managed to focus her thoughts. She had to get away. Now. Before her yearning turned into a madness she could not overcome.
Sophie turned to the door. “I must be going. I trust you will be well.”
His hand on her sleeve stopped her. “Don’t leave, Sophie. Not yet.”
She spun around. “Why? Why should I stay here? There’s no point.”
“You are still in danger. What happened last night has erased any doubt in my mind. Think, Sophie—what is the common thread that binds us?”
She looked up into his eyes, reading his concern. They’d both become targets, for one reason alone.
“Trask.”
He dragged in a low breath. “Why would anyone want to silence you?”
