Page 25 of The Scot

She made to leave again.

Terric’s hand shot out to stop her. Her wrist was so small, his fingers wrapped around it easily. He forced himself to drop it, but he could not force himself to send her away.

But neither should she stay.

Still he heard himself say, “Do not leave.”

If he were truthful with himself, he’d wanted to see her all day. He’d woken up in the dead of night thinking of her. And now that she was here, he did not want her to go. He nodded inside. “A tankard of ale before you sleep?”

She hesitated, with good reason. It was hardly proper for her to share a drink with him in his solar in the middle of the night. Unchaperoned.

But this was not just any woman. She was Idalia’s sister. Lance’s sister-in-law, which almost made her family.

He nearly laughed at the thought. Roysa was not Idalia, and his cock knew the difference. It would not be fooled so easily.

She met his gaze, her eyes searching for answers. He knew she wouldn’t find any—for he didn’t understand himself any better than she did.

“Perhaps just one,” she said.

Terric knew what desire looked like. He’d seen those hooded eyes, those parted lips on other women, but never had such a look made him react like this. The jolt of lust he felt was too powerful—so much so it nearly made him change his mind. Roysa was not one to trifle with. Idalia would rightly kill him were he to seduce her sister. A woman who’d recently lost her husband. A woman he had no intention of marrying.

But one did not tryst with a woman such as Roysa. A pity, but a fact as well.

“You are certain?” he forced himself to ask. His throat nearly closed on itself for the thickness of his voice.

“Aye. I am sure.”

No four words had ever held such promise.

Such damnation, he corrected.