Love Beyond Time (Morna's Legacy Series) by Bethany Claire

act was exactly the sort of self-deprecating comedy that I could see myself dreaming, and whatever unconscious thought had been nagging at me seemed to recede.
    With each step, my dress slipped farther and farther off the shoulder that was underneath his hand, and I increased the pressure of my right side into his ribs.
    It was a short distance to his room, but it seemed a mile, each of us struggling with every step. As we made it to his door, he removed his arm from around my shoulder and stepped away from my side.
    I quickly made to squeeze my arms back against my own sides, but not before his first step away landed on the bottom of my dress, starting its descent to the floor.
    Unable to catch the gown before it slipped off my shoulders, I threw myself against him to keep my chest from being exposed.
    I glanced up at him to try and explain myself, but stopped as he backed me into the wall next to his chamber door.
    “What do ye think ye are doing, Blaire? We canna do this! We shouldna have in the first place, but ye have married him now! We must stop.”
    “I . . . I,” I had no idea how to respond. Obviously, Blaire had been involved with both brothers. Not that I could blame her, Arran was just as handsome as his brother. I couldn’t imagine what their parents must have looked like to have two boys who appeared so different but were both equally breathtaking. He interrupted my thoughts before I could respond.
    “God help me, Blaire! I’ve tried to stay away from ye. It felt like ye were ripping me heart out watching ye wed Eoin. I thought at the very least ye wouldna seem so pleased to be doing so. Ye have to know I dinna mean a word I spoke to ye this morning.”
    He bent down then, his hands on my hips to keep him steady. With his cheek pressed flushed to mine, he continued his plea.
    “If I’m being a fool, Blaire, put me out o’ me misery and tell me so. If I’m not, I doona think I can stay away from ye anymore.”
    I scrambled for a response. I didn’t want to hurt him any more than he obviously was already, but I was afraid that in his state of intoxication whatever I said would do little to discourage him.
    Part of me hoped that if I waited to answer he would simply pass out on my shoulder, and I could leave him snoring in the hallway and make a quick escape back down the hall.
    Instead he seemed to take my silence as surrender.
    “God, Blaire! I knew it was no only me. I want ye so badly. I’ll burn in hell for it I know, but I canna stop myself any longer.”
    His lips met mine with a heartbreaking sense of desperation. There was such an ardent sense of longing in the way he moved against me, I couldn’t bring myself to stop him. It seemed too cruel to push him away. He wasn’t assaulting me. He thought I was someone else, someone he loved. And he obviously believed Blaire would have matched his fervor with her own.
    I found myself surrendering to him, responding and matching his affection with a sort of mind-body detachment that felt more dreamlike than the dream I was having now.
    A roar to my right brought me back, just as a fist pulled Arran’s lips from mine and sent him flying to the floor, unconscious.
    Stunned, I let my dress slip below my breasts before I scrambled to put it back on.
    Seeing that his brother was not to rise for some time, Eoin whirled on me, grabbing me around the middle as he threw me over his shoulder with far too little effort.
    I assumed he was returning me to his bedchamber, but he took off in the other direction. He didn’t say a word as my head jostled up and down against his back, and as he descended two different sets of stairs, dread settled in my gut.
    I could tell he was angry. His face had been blood red when he’d spun on me, and I could feel his anger rising in the form of heat off his back.
    I couldn’t imagine what he would say or do. I’d seen him angry once before and that had been over nothing compared to this. And what could I say in defense of