Page 40 of Scot of Deception
Silently, he held his arm out for her and Kathleen leaned closer. His gaze followed the movement of her fingers as she traced the silvery scar, her touch feather-light and hesitant at first, sending a shiver through his limbs.
Her blue eyes bore into his own as she mapped out the length of it, using only touch to navigate it. Blaine’s breath was cut short, his chest stuttering as he tried to draw in more air, and he cursed himself quietly forever allowing that to happen when he could have sent her away in the first place.
He was meant to be strong; he was meant to have the willpower to do the right thing, but whenever Kathleen was around, he succumbed to weakness.
Then, as if it had never happened, Kathleen pulled back from him and though that charged atmosphere remained between them, the air didn’t feel as oppressive, as heavy with all the things that remained unspoken between them.
“I think we should go tae sleep,” Blaine said then, desperate to put some distance between them before he made a foolish decision he could never change.
“Just one more round,” Kathleen said, and before Blaine could insist, she began to deal the cards.
Just one more an’ then she’ll go.
The final round took longer than the others and Blaine’s impatience threatened to get the better of him. He tapped his fingers against his knee, a nervous habit he thought he had given up, and played his hand without much thinking, without much caution.
It was no surprise when he lost. He had known from the beginning of the round that victory would belong to Kathleen. What was a surprise was what she said next.
“I dare ye tae kiss me.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Kathleen’s heart leaped to her throat the moment those words were past her lips. She was taking a risk, asking for something like that, but that was precisely what Fenella had told her to do. It was now or never, and she wasn’t going to give up without a fight.
Blaine hesitated. He froze, his body going rigid as a plank of wood, reminding Kathleen of the way deer stood utterly still when confronted with the threat of an arrow. She saw his throat bob in the half-light of the fire as he swallowed. She saw the nervous twitch of his fingers on his knee, the way his gaze searched for a way out in the room, as though he could simply disappear through a hidden exit.
“I cannae dae that,” he said in the end, after a long pause.
Kathleen had expected this response, of course. For all Blaine had been more than happy to be intimate with her at first, he had seemed to immediately regret it, much to her disappointment. It wasn’t a matter of attraction—at least she didn’t think it was. With the way he looked at her, with that hunger in his gaze and desire in his every glance, she doubted that it was a lack of attraction which stopped Blaine from acting. Rather, he seemed to have some misplaced concern about her and the fact that he was a decade older.
“Why nae?” she asked, keeping her voice quiet and gentle. She didn’t want to argue with him; she only wanted to make him see reason and, failing that, receive a satisfying answer as to why she couldn’t have what she wanted.
“Ye ken why,” said Blaine gruffly, averting his gaze to stare into the orange glow of the flames.
The fire made him look severe, accentuating every sharp angle on his face. Never before had Kathleen seen him so displeased, so on edge—upset, almost, it seemed to her.
“Ye’re older than me, I ken that,” she said, refraining from reaching out to touch him even though it was the only thing she wanted. “But that isnae that uncommon! Fenella’s husband is older than her, too! An’ there are many other lasses who wed men who are ten, twenty, even thirty years older than them!”
In response, Blaine only shook his head and made to stand, but this time, Kathleen reached for him, grabbing his forearm to stop him from leaving.
“Ye ken it tae be true,” she insisted. “An’ I ken that ye want me as much as I want ye. Why are ye fightin’ it?”
Blaine stopped dead in his tracks, giving Kathleen a look she couldn’t decipher. He seemed to be trying to tell her something with nothing but his gaze, but she couldn’t see anything other than his reluctance. She could not see the reason behind it.
“Ye should simply trust me when I tell ye that I cannae dae this,” Blaine insisted. “An’ I dinnae care if it is common. It isnae proper.”
A million thoughts raced through Kathleen’s mind. A part of her wondered if perhaps Blaine had lied to her when he had told her there was no woman in his life. Maybe he had a wife or maybe he was betrothed to someone. That was the only thing that could explain his reluctance, but he had had no reason to lie to her when they had first met.
“Ye should be with someone who deserves ye.”
It was almost like an afterthought, almost as if Blaine wastalking to himself rather than her. His voice was quiet, hesitant. As he spoke, he didn’t meet her eyes.
Is this what is stopping him? He thinks he isnae worthy o’ me?
But why would he think such a thing? Why would he ever consider himself unworthy?
Kathleen suspected that if she questioned him about it, Blaine would only withdraw further from her, so instead she said, “This is what I want. I want ye. I’ve seen what me future could be an’ I… I’m dreadin’ it. Give me this. It’s all I ask.”
Blaine was silent for a long time—so long that Kathleen feared he would simply kick her out of the room without giving her either what she wanted or a satisfying answer. But then, just as she began to lose hope, he finally looked at her in the eye.
