Lachlan?
The idea nauseated him.
Barely able to contain his contempt for what he believed to be a
master manipulation, he gripped Laura's upper arms and held her
away from him. The soft, sensual afterglow in her eyes yanked on
his heartstrings. He wanted her again. He wanted to touch and kiss
every inch of her, taste her, inhale her, lose himself in the dark,
moist cavity between her thighs.
Lose himself to utter
passion and oblivion.
Unexpected pain gripped
every part of him.
He should have known she
never would have fallen for him.
Laura smiled tiredly.
Although dimly aware that something was troubling him, she was
uncharacteristically absorbed in her contentment. She languidly
traced a finger along his lower lip, staring into his eyes, yet not
grasping their betrayal of his withdrawal.
"Who am I?"
His solemn tone elicited a
laugh from her. "Who are you? You, silly."
"Ma name."
"Roan...." She frowned and
smiled at the same time. "Roan."
"Last name?"
"Roan—"
"Ma last name!"
His anger took her
aback.
"Baird! What's wrong with
you?"
His chest rising and falling
on labored breaths, Roan clamped down on his outrage. He urged her
off his lap. Springing to his feet, he stared down at her as though
she'd sprouted horns and had used them to rip him open from heart
to groin.
"Get ou'," he growled,
pointing toward the door.
Laura couldn't move for
several seconds. Then, her movements sluggish, she went to where
her nightgown lay in a heap on the floor, and slipped it on.
Despite the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, she squared
her shoulders and forced herself to look him in the eye. She
refused to try to second guess his mood change. Their lovemaking
had been incredible, and yet he was acting as though she'd hurt him
in some way.
"Get ou', Laura," he said,
his tone thickly laced with a threat to physically remove her, if
necessary.
"What's wrong?" she
choked.
"Us!"
The heat of her skin
threatened to consume her. Anger-filled words crescendoed in her
head, but she couldn't bring herself to voice them.
Instead, she softly told
him, "Try not to lose any sleep over this. I know I won't." Then,
with as much dignity as she could muster, she left his room, almost
silently closing the door behind her.
Roan clenched his hands by
his sides. Tears he fought back seemed to fill his throat. The room
felt colder than ever before, turning his skin to ice. After
several minutes, he lifted his eyes heavenward and allowed a choked
sound to escape his control.
"Damn you, Lannie," he
rasped, shutting his eyes tightly. "Did we amuse you, you
swine!"
His movements savage, he
stalked to the bed and began to tear away the covers, dumping them
onto the floor. Guttural sounds passed his clenched teeth. He
wanted to shout his outrage at someone—anyone—before it split him
in two. And in part, he wanted to blame Laura, but he was rational
enough to realize that she'd also been a pawn.
"Roan."
He whirled in the direction
of the voice. Reflexively, he balled his hands at his sides.
Breathing heavily through his nostrils, he furiously glared at the
mistress of the house.
Beth Staples took three
steps closer, her demeanor calm, although her expression betrayed
her trepidation. She wore the long-sleeved gown Lachlan hated, the
one she'd found in the attic in an old trunk. "I'm responsible,
Roan."
"No."
"I am." She took another
step in his direction. "I thought I was helping—"
A tortured laugh burst from
him.
"Lachlan's not aware that I
interfered." She gave a feeble shrug. "It got out of hand. I'm
sorry."
"Sorry?" He quickly closed
the distance, planting himself intimidatingly in front of her.
"Sorry for wha'?"
"Please put something
on."
Her request baffled him,
until he looked down and realized his state of undress. Snatching
up the sheet from the floor, he impatiently wrapped it around his
hips and returned to her. "Now, lass, suppose you explain to me
wha' the bloody hell you thought you were doin'?"
It took
Marian Tee
Tori Kiss
Veronica Henry
Lynda La Plante
D. H. Sidebottom
Sue Margolis
Randall Wallace
Roman Gitlarz
MAGGIE SHAYNE
Randy Wayne White