Page 87 of Irresistible
He rolled his shoulder back and closed the door. Though the only light was her waning candle and the coals in the hearth, she could make out his startled features. “I came to see you.”
“It’s the middle of the night. How did you get in here?”
He stared at her. “You know what I do? Or did, rather.”
“Well, now I feel silly. I continue to be impressed with your skills. Not only did you steal into the house without being detected, you knew where to find me.”
He shrugged. “I am good at this. As are you.” He bent to pick up the poker. “Not a bad weapon. I also continue to be impressed.”
“I was lamenting the fact that I perhaps gave up shooting prematurely.”
Laughing softly, he replaced the poker on the hearth and faced her. “I would be more than happy to begin your tutelage once more. I will be shooting many things in Scotland, probably.”
“Doesn’t your estate have a gamekeeper?”
“Yes, but my father always took us hunting. He says there is something satisfying about the laird providing for his clan.”
She blinked at him. “Will you be laird of a clan?”
He shook his head. “No, but my father likened his role as earl to that. The estate has many tenants. He refuses to clear any of them away to make room for sheep. Indeed, he’s provided a sanctuary for many who were forced to leave their homes.”
“He sounds like such a wonderful man.”
“I’ve a great deal to live up to. I will not, however, need to steal into rooms or conduct secret searches. Nor will I be required to deliver messages in the dark of night or eavesdrop on conversations in seedy places.”
“If you ever think you’ll be able to share details of your exploits, I shall be thrilled to be your audience.”
“Perhaps when we are old and gray.” He winked at her, and she fixed on what he said. Did he think they would still be acquainted then? An image of them together—aged and grizzled—as he regaled her with tales of his daring flashed in her mind. Along with it came a curious ache. His question thankfully interrupted her wayward thoughts. “What are you doing up so late?”
The urge to tell him everything—that she’d been tasked to investigate him and why and, most importantly, that she’d just deciphered the evidence that cleared his name for certain. But the words didn’t come. It wasn’t just that she wasn’t allowed to reveal any of it. She supposed she didn’t want him to know she’d been investigating him in Dorset, even though she’d done an exceedingly poor job of it.
“I was reading.” Her gaze stupidly strayed toward the book atop the desk. It was really for the best that she wouldn’t be spying.
He pivoted toward the desk and took a step. “What’s the book?”
Moving quickly, Jess dashed in front of him. “You steal into my chamber and askmewhat I’m doing up so late. You shouldn’t evenbehere.”
“No, I should not,” he said softly, his voice a caress that stoked the longing that had lingered within her since their kiss the night before. Really, since they’d parted in Hampshire nearly a week before.
“Yet here you are,” she whispered.
“I believe you said you weren’t finished with me. That left me curious. I’ve come to allow you to finish.”
Jess wasn’t certain she ever could—not with him. She thought of her conversation earlier with Kat. Would he be interested in a liaison? If not, why would he be here?
“Then I suppose we should get started.” Jess moved toward him, but he met her halfway, sweeping her into his arms as his lips crashed into hers.
The feel of him against her made her spirit soar. She’d feared she would never experience this again.
Tearing her mouth from his, she pinned him with a fierce stare. “You aren’t going to later say we shouldn’t have done this, are you?” She didn’t have patience for that nonsense.
“No, I am not. I am taking you to that bed and shagging you senseless without regret. If you have any opposition to that, say so now.”
She pressed her fingertips into his nape. “Hurry, please.”
Dougal kissed Jess again as he carried her to the bed. After barely sleeping last night and thinking of her almost incessantly all day, he was nearly overcome with want. How had he ever thought they could share just one night in Dorset and never see each other again, let alone never share a night like this?
He hadn’t been thinking. He’d been conducting his life without consideration, going about things as he had for the past several years. Connections and romantic liaisons didn’t last. He didn’t have time for them, nor had he been interested in fostering or maintaining any sort of ongoing relationship.
