"Aye?" she whispered, staring up at him dazzled.
She’d always thought him beautiful. Now, with his eyes burning blue fire and ardor vivid in his sculpted features, his beauty seemed incandescent.
His hands kneaded the flesh of her arms, and she strained closer. Elation flooded her as she realized what this meant. At last, it had happened. Surely all her prayers were answered. Dougal would acknowledge the unbreakable bond that united them, the bond she’d recognized from their first meeting. He’d tell her he loved her. He’d tell her she was the only woman for him. He’d tell her he was going to stay.
Then, if fate had an ounce of mercy, he’d kiss her again. She could spend the rest of her life kissing Dougal Drummond and count the years well spent. His kisses took her flying up to heaven, although he’d brought the embrace to an end far too soon.
"We have to stop."
Kirsty frowned, not understanding. The words were too far removed from the declaration she prepared to hear, longed to hear. "No, we dinnae. There’s nobody to see."
A low sound emerged from deep in his throat. Not, to her regret, the growl of pleasure that had made her senses vibrate. No, this sounded…angry.
"That’s no’ the point. I’m a guest in your father’s house. I’ve received nothing but kindness from him. And from ye. You deserve better than to be mauled by a man who sails away on the next tide."
She gave her head a small shake and managed a tremulous smile. Dougal was such a knight in shining armor. "I dinnae feel mauled. I feel…wanted."
Then the haze in her mind cleared enough for her to register his expression. He didn’t look like a man who achieved his dearest dreams. He looked unhappy and ill-at-ease and worst of all, guilty. She finally made sense of what he’d said, and the heat pulsing in her blood turned to razor-sharp ice that sliced her silly illusions to ribbons.
"The next tide," she repeated slowly.
Dougal frowned down at her. "Ye ken I have to go, lass."
"I ken that was your plan when ye arrived," she said in a flat voice.
How could all that lovely warmth just disappear into nothing? When he’d kissed her, she thought she’d never feel lonely again. Right now she felt more lost and alone than she had since her mamma’s death.
And worse, she felt ashamed.
Dougal released her with an abruptness that made her heart cramp and stepped back as far as he could, which on the Kestrel wasn’t far. "I’ve never hidden my intentions."
"No," she said. "Ye havenae."
Blindly Kirsty reached out to curl her trembling fingers around the mast. Pleasure might have seeped away to leave only bitterness behind, but the physical effects of his kiss lingered. Her legs didn’t feel sturdy enough to support her.
"I’m so sorry." His voice was as flat as hers. "I dinnae ken what came over me."
"Nae harm was done." If she discounted a broken heart and this horrible, horrible aftermath to the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her.
Dougal not only looked disconcerted, he looked disgruntled. "Are ye saying this is nothing out of the ordinary for ye? That ye go around kissing people all the time?"
"Ye have no right to ask that," she snapped, welcoming the cleansing heat of anger. The problem was that once anger receded, she’d still be devastated and rejected, and blast it, still in love with this magnificent blockhead.
The heat in his face became chagrin, rather than passion. It had been passion. She’d wager her rights to Askaval it had been. Surely she couldn’t be wrong that for a few moments there, he’d forgotten his quest and enjoyed kissing Kirsty, no matter how determined he was to deny her now.
"I beg your pardon. No, I dinnae."
She told herself to stop talking, to climb out of the boat and go back to her father’s house. But some devil had her facing up to Dougal with a defiance she wasn’t really feeling. She’d been humiliated enough, but it appeared she was ready to ask for more, God help her.
"It would make ye feel better if you could blame what just happened on me, would it no’?"
A muscle flickered in his cheek, and his eyes narrowed on her. "No’ at all."
"For your information, I’ve never kissed anyone but ye. And if it’s always like this afterward, I heartily hope I never get kissed again."
He flinched and went back to looking guilty. She hated that he clearly wanted to turn back the clock so that they’d never kissed at all. "Kirsty, I beg ye to forgive me. I’m no’ handling this well."
"No, you’re not."