The Highlander's Forbidden Mistress (The Lairds Most Likely 7)

"No," she said on a mere whisper of sound, and the answer encompassed everything that had happened in these remarkable days.

***

Brock noticed that just as on their arrival at the hunting lodge, neither Selina nor he did justice to Mary’s cooking. Which was a pity as his kinswoman had worked hard to make his last dinner with Selina special. But the roast pheasant and the extravagant spun-sugar dessert returned to the kitchen mostly untouched.

Since their first night here, when he’d been in such a lather to claim Selina, he’d managed to claw back a shred of civilized behavior. Most nights, he joined her in the drawing room for a brandy or a port before he bustled her upstairs. His impatience to have her under him hadn’t lessened any, but he’d learned to rein it in. At least for an hour or so. Although during their stay in Essex, the Earl of Bruard and his mistress were in the habit of retiring notably early.

Now he surveyed that mistress across the damask tablecloth. This last week, he’d come to know her so well. He knew the sounds she made when she found her peak, he knew the soft hum of delight she gave when he kissed her. He knew the surprised gurgle of her laughter, as if amusement took her unawares. He knew how she hungered for him, because even after a week of debauchery, she stared at him as if she wanted to gobble him up in one bite.

But tonight as he studied her, he realized that she remained as mysterious and untamable as the sea she’d so loved seeing this afternoon. A lifetime together wouldn’t be time enough to reveal all this glorious woman’s secrets.

He had mere hours until they must part forever.

It was a damnable tragedy.

"Shall we take a brandy in the next room?"

She set aside the half-empty wineglass she’d been toying with and raised fathomless brown eyes to his. For this, their last evening together, she wore her best gown and her magnificent hair was caught up in a mass of curls. The coiffure was lovely, although its principal effect on him was the temptation to dismantle it.

He’d always thought Selina beautiful, but a week of sensual fulfillment had turned her into the loveliest woman he’d ever seen. Her creamy skin glowed, and her lips were soft and full as if she’d only just left off kissing him. Sensual awareness weighted her every movement.

"No, let’s go upstairs," she murmured. "I want to be in your arms."

"That’s what I want, too," he said soberly, rising to pull out her chair for her. "Do you want to race me again?"

She laughed as she stood, although he could tell it was an effort. Dinner had been a quiet meal. They both felt the crushing weight of tomorrow’s goodbyes looming ahead. "Not tonight."

"Then allow me to escort you, my lady," he said, presenting his arm.

As she curled her fingers around his elbow, her smile was wistful. Her touch was warm, even through the layers of his coat and shirt. From the start, he’d been preternaturally aware of her. He’d wondered if familiarity would dull his urgent reaction, but she just needed to look at him sideways to make him as hard as iron.

"We only have to make it to the bedroom." Selina gave him a conspiratorial smile and one of those slanting glances under gold-tipped lashes that drove him wild. As if he wasn’t wild enough for her already.

"You know I’m ready for you?" he asked in surprise.

The smile that curved that lush red mouth turned smug. "Of course I know."

"Of course you do," he echoed.

No lover had ever been so attuned to him. It was one of the many reasons why the world exploded into a blinding fireball when they came together.

They left the dining room and crossed the shadowy hall to the staircase. As he mounted each step, he was achingly aware that this was the last time he and Selina would retire to bed together.

Brock beat back the thought because it was too painful to face. But a universe of repressed feeling deepened his voice as he pushed open the door to the chamber. "I don’t want to sleep a wink tonight, my darling."

She watched him with that serious, covetous gaze that only made him want her more. "Let’s see in the dawn."

With a self-confident sway of her hips that would have been foreign to the woman he first met, she moved past. He couldn’t bear to think of her going back to that demure lady, not when he’d watched her blossom into this vivid creature. But he supposed she must, damn it.

He followed her inside, confused, troubled, unhappy. Randy as hell. Because he suffered such unfamiliar emotional turmoil, she caught him by surprise when she turned and flung herself against him in a flurry of blue silk.

"Selina?" he gasped, as she fumbled behind him and slammed the door shut.

"Shh, don’t talk," she said in an intense voice he’d never heard before. She sounded like she wasn’t far off crying. "Tonight, I just want to feel. Because I’ll never feel like this again in my whole life."

"You…"

"No, for pity’s sake, don’t say anything," she hissed and caught his head between shaking hands to drag him down for a kiss, clumsy with violent emotion.