do not mean to act differently toward you, Master O’Duine.” Pleasance sighed and twisted her handkerchief. “You have been most gallant, and I have no wish to repay that with unkindness.”
“The more mealymouthed and polite ye become, the less I like it.”
Tearlach rose to his feet and began to pace back and forth in front of her. Pleasance cursed silently. The man was too astute. She had hoped to dim his interest by acting cool and aloof, so that he ended this courtship on his own. Instead he had already surmised her intention. He was not going to play along and let her do what she must with gentle subterfuge. That meant that she would have to lie, for she could not tell the man that her parents had ordered her to give him to Letitia.
She did not want him to know that she was so weak as to obey such an absurd command just to please her family. There had to be a point where family loyalty ended, where meekly obeying every command became akin to slavery. She feared that her need to please her constantly critical parents was beginning to make her act the fool.
She cringed slightly when he stopped to stare at her. Then, suddenly, she was angry with him. If she had not met him, if he had not touched her emotions in a way no other man ever had, she would not be in this awkward situation now. A small inner voice told her she was being grossly unfair, even a little ridiculous, but it did not soothe her temper. If he had acted like all the other men before him and pursued the beautiful Letitia, she could have remained blissfully ignorant of the pain, loss, and confusion she was suffering now.
“Some of us, Master O’Duine, have been trained in civility to others.” Pleasance did not need to see the way his eyes narrowed or the light flush that tinged his high-boned cheeks to know that she had spoken coldly and sharply.
“Something has happened between yesterday and now. When I brought ye a few posies yesterday and we sat right here and talked, ye were all smiles. Ye called me Tearlach and e’en allowed me a kiss. Aye, more than one.”
“I acted without thought as to how you might interpret my behavior or even to the propriety of it. If I led you to believe my acquiescence indicated more than mere flirtatiousness, I sincerely apologize.”
He flushed deeper with fury. “Ye are turning me away, shoving me aside like some bothersome child.” He grabbed her by the arm and tugged her to her feet. “Ye have played me for a fool, havenae ye?”
“Nay, I have not! It is my right to decide to end the courtship when and if I see fit. There is no sense in wasting your time or mine any further. After weeks of your skillful and arduous courting I simply do not have the depth of feeling for you that I should have by now.”
“No depth of feeling?”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, Pleasance knew that she had made a big mistake. She could hear in his reply that he had interpreted her words as a blatant challenge to prove her wrong. She tensed as he pulled her into his arms.
“Master O’Duine, release me. You can prove naught by failing to behave as a gentleman.”
“I dinnae feel much like a gentleman at this moment. Aye, and ye have ne’er thought of me as one, have ye? That is what this is all about. Ye are as full of self-importance as the rest of your haughty family.”
“You are mistaken.”
“Nay, I think not. Ah, lassie, I really thought ye were one who would speak the truth.”
“I have spoken the truth.” But Pleasance could hear the lack of conviction in her own voice. She was a poor liar and the faint sneer that twisted Tearlach’s fine mouth told her that he thought so too. “Now, release me or I shall have to call out for my father or my brother Lawrence,” she threatened, thinking even as she said it that the portly Thomas and his lanky dandy of a son would be no match for Tearlach.
“And they will come hieing to your rescue, will they? I dinnae think so. Since the verra first day I came courting, they have left us to ourselves. I surmised that such a lax guardianship was because ye are a spinster.”
Pleasance felt her temper flare. She was weary of being called a spinster, a term she knew was never used kindly. This was Tearlach O’Duine’s way of striking back at her.
Before she could respond in kind, however, he tightened his hold on her. Despite her valiant efforts not to let his nearness affect her, she immediately forgot what she had wanted to say. Being pressed against his hard, lean body stole nearly every thought from her head. To her dismay, she could see that he knew exactly what effect he was having on her. A distracting, captivating warmth seeped through her at every place he touched. She knew she should pull away before he beguiled her, but all she wanted was to get nearer. He was holding her scandalously close, yet all she could think about was how she wished to act even more wantonly.
He touched his lips to the hollow by her ear, and she, shivered as heat entered her veins, robbing her of all resistance. For a moment she almost hated him. He was showing her all too clearly what she would lose by rejecting him, and the realization was too painful for words.
“Oh, aye, no depth of feeling, she says. Ye are too poor a liar to try and tell such a big one, lassie.”
“You have no call to insult me so, Master O’Duine.”
“I have more call than most. Ye mean to cut my pride with your lies.”
Tearlach was very angry. He had originally been drawn to Pleasance, instead of to her much prettier sister, for reasons some might call unflattering. Pleasance Dunstan was the older, plainer, and, rumor had it, the poorer of the sisters; therefore it would require less work on his part to win her. She might even be a more pliable wife, for she would be grateful for not being left ummarried.
It had taken very little time for Tearlach to realize that far more than those shallow reasons was attracting him to Pleasance, and he did not like it. He told himself to remain aloof, continuously warned himself against entertaining any more than the most superficial feeling for her, then ignored his own advice. That his original cynical mistrust was proving to be justified after all only added to his anger. So too did this proof that his judgment of women was seriously flawed.
This time he had really believed he had found a woman he could trust, one who would not look down her nose at a mere trapper from the western frontier. He wanted a woman who liked him for himself. He had let himself believe that Pleasance Dunstan was that woman.
He touched his mouth to hers and, when she meekly tried to turn her head away, caught her chin in his hand and held her steady. He savored the feel of her warm, soft lips beneath his, and that too increased his wrath. He wanted Pleasance Dunstan—badly—and he knew she wanted him. Yet still she was pushing him aside. There could be only one reason—she did not think he was good enough for her. Tearlach wished there was some satisfactory way to make her pay for that coldhearted snobbery. Instead, he would have to settle for making her fully aware of what she was denying herself.
He slid his tongue over her full lips, and she parted them for him. He held her as close as he could without hurting her as he stroked the inside of her mouth. A soft moan escaped her and he echoed it. He slid his hands down to her gently curved hips and pressed her loins against his, moving in an erotically suggestive way. It did not surprise him when she responded with an equally arousing movement. Their passion was perfectly matched.
But now he would never fully taste it, and that infuriated him.
It took all of his willpower, for Pleasance was so invitingly responsive, but Tearlach finally ended the kiss. He studied her flushed face, watched how her breasts rose and fell with her deep, unsteady breathing, and saw how desire had turned her blue-green eyes a deeper blue. She wanted him. Everything about her cried it out. He was nearly as caught up in his own need as she was, and he made no effort to hide it. Yet, despite the hunger that had them both trembling, she was going to reject him. Tearlach felt the urge to slap some sense into her and quickly stepped back.
“Despite all the heat we share, still ye will turn me away?” he asked, hating to ask yet tense with a need to understand her actions. “Why?