Page 33 of It Happened in the Highlands
He leaned forward on his knees. His face moved closer. His intense blue gaze caught and held hers. “You could have mentioned it when we were all going in to dinner.”
“It would hardly be my place to share something publicly about your son,” she reminded him. “I didn’t know the McKendrys’ guests. And besides, the story should be yours to share.”
A lie, in part.
“I saw you defend him andhismother quite publicly when you thought the Squire and his wife were being unfair. You didn’t know them either.”
“Now that was not exactly the same thing.” She glared at him. “What are you trying to say, Captain Melfort?”
He entangled his fingers in hers. She watched the dance, forgetting to breathe until he withdrew his hand.
“I’m saying you had an ulterior motive for coming after me tonight.”
He was daring her to speak the truth, but she was a coward. Jo wanted him, and yet she was too afraid to act, even hidden with him here in a maze of privet. She’d started a dangerous game, but she was an amateur. She didn’t know how to finish it.
Jo resigned her wildly impulsive, half-formed plan, and turned toward the candlelit windows of the drawing room. It was time to go and she came to her feet. He immediately followed her lead.
“Mrs. McKendry will be wondering what’s happened to me,” she lied. “I should say good night, Captain.”
“Not yet.”
Her heart fluttered with alarm when he took a step toward her. He knew the truth. He saw through her. She could have shared the story about Cuffe tomorrow or the next time she’d seen him.
His height and strength gave him an overpowering advantage, but it wasn’t Wynne that Jo feared. It was herself. Shedidhave an ulterior motive.
“Cuffe has been here for over two months now,” he said. “And despite me asking him on numerous occasions, not once has he come with me to see what I’m planning for Knockburn Hall. He’s agreed to go tomorrow.”
“I’m so glad to hear it,” she responded brightly, all the while chiding herself for imagining a romantic liaison in the garden while he just wanted to tell her about an outing with his son.
“But he has one condition.”
“A condition?” she asked, daring herself to look up into his eyes.
“You.”
“Me?”
“Actually, we both want you to come,” he said, lifting her chin when she tried to look away. She could not seem to find her balance in this conversation. All she knew was that her heart was about to hammer through the wall of her chest.
“Don’t you think this might be the perfect chance for a father and son to share a walk together? You really shouldn’t ruin it by bringing a stranger—”
“Iwant you there,” he said, stopping her.
Jo knew this was her last chance to retreat to a safe haven of respectability. She couldn’t do it. Her heart wouldn’t allow any more denials. Not now. Waiting and wanting, her gaze fell on his lips.
He slowly lowered his head until his lips brushed hers, and the floodgate of memories opened. His kiss was warm and subtle, as gentle as their first time, yet it moved her in wholly unexpected ways.
The touch of their mouths reawakened feelings Jo had thought she’d never experience again. The pounding beat of her heart, the pooling warmth in her belly, the scorching fever of her skin.
And she welcomed them. She wanted more.
As if reading her mind, Wynne bent forward again and brushed his lips over the sensitive skin of her brow, her cheek, her chin. He was teasing her, pushing her to smash the constraints that bound her, to give in to the impulses that seemed so natural at this moment, to kiss him back.
Jo’s undoing came when the tip of his finger caressed the edge of her ear and moved slowly down her throat to the neckline of her dress.
She kissed him.
Even as her lips pressed against his, she tried to fool herself with the thought that one kiss would be enough. It was rash, indulgent, an attempt to slake a thirst that she knew deep down would never be satisfied. But before she could withdraw from him, she felt his hand cradling the back of her head. And then he was kissing her with such passion that Jo felt overcome with a melting desire.
