Page 43 of Brigand

The one word on every man’s broken lips was the name of theirsavior. Moncrieff.

Fuck.

When he came, when he demanded Violet, Ewan would have tocomply. He would have to hand her over. He was honor-bound to do so.

But now…after what they had shared, he didn’t think he couldbear to let her go.

* * * * *

It was late by the time he and William finished theirconversation—catching up on all that had passed since they’d seen each otherlast—so it was easy for Ewan to convince his friend to stay the night.

And truth be told, Ewan was in no hurry to return to hissolar.

Oh, he was anxious to hold her again, to bed her. But hedidn’t savor the prospect of looking in her eyes and seeing her hatred. He wassick of that to the depths of his being.

He knew he wasn’t the man for her. He’d always known that,even as a boy. But now it chafed, like chains binding his soul.

He had always been one to challenge authority, to taunt thepowers that be. For the first time in his life he regretted some of hischoices. He’d done what needed doing, to be sure. But he longed to step outsidehis skin and become someone else. A man who could claim her. For real.

A man who could engender and hold her love.

Life would be a dismal drudge without her.

When he finally made his way up to the tower room, she wassleeping. She was so peaceful and sweet it made his heart ache. He didn’t havethe heart to wake her. So he nestled in beside her and held her. Just held her,savoring her every murmur, her every breath.

When he awoke in the morning—much later than he’dintended—she was still there. He stifled the annoying flare of relief. Ofcourse she was still there. He’d locked the door.

He levered up on his arm and stared down at her, studyingher face, glorying in the sooty arch of her lashes on her cheeks, her rosyglow, the plump pout of her sleeping lips. He dipped his head and kissed herneck. She muttered something and rolled over into his embrace.

God, she was adorable. Tiny and curvy and warm. He kissedher awake. His heart flared when she responded. When her lips moved under his.When her tongue dabbed at his.

His cock surged. He growled deep in his throat and shiftedon top of her. Her thighs spread. Not far, as she was still wearing her dress,but far enough for him to wedge against her. He rubbed her with his hardness,showing her his need.

She looked at him, her eyes soft with sleep, welcoming. Herlips parted and a sigh slipped out. A delicious sound.

He couldn’t help but nuzzle her neck, nibble and nip andtaste the essence of Violet.

Ah. She should know better. She should know better than towriggle against him so. He shot her a smile and reached for her hem.

A knock rattled the door.

He dropped his head on her shoulder and groaned. “What?” hebellowed.

No response. Just the knock again.

Fuck.

He rose from the bed and made his way across the chamber,opening the door a crack. Alasdair stood on the landing, a flummoxed expressionon his face.

“What the fuck is it?”

“You have visitors. A man. And a woman.” Thank God he hadthe sense to whisper. Still, Ewan’s heart seized.

“A woman?” Was it Kaitlin? Had she come? Hell. So soon?

“Aye, and demanding to see you. She’s…rather adamant.”

Ewan relaxed. Well, it couldn’t be Kaitlin. Kaitlin wasn’tadamant. Not ever. She was as timid as a church mouse.