The Rock Read online

  She opened her eyes and looked into the familiar face of the man who’d brought her to such heights and felt something strange swell in her chest. A warmth of emotion that she’d never felt before. The intimacy—the closeness—of the moment seemed to wrap around her and squeeze.

  She would have smiled had the veil of euphoria not lifted enough for her to realize that the sweet tenderness of emotion, the warmth in her chest, and euphoria were not shared by the man leaning over her. Rather he seemed pulled as tight as a bowstring, teetering on the edge of some dark, violent precipice he was fighting not to fall off of.

  “Thommy?” she asked uncertainly, forgetting he’d asked her not to call him that. Her hand went to his face, cupping the hard lines of his jaw. The stubble grated against her palm and she could feel the heavy pulse just below his cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  His gaze hardened to blue chips of ice, but she yanked her hand back as if scalded. A breath of cool air spread over her skin, and all at once she became aware of her wanton state. She was collapsed on a table, her breasts were half-spilling out of her gown, her skirts were bunched around her waist, and he had his hand between her spread legs with his manhood positioned only a few inches away. Her gaze slid to the thick column of his erection, and she knew that all he had to do was loosen the ties of his breeches and he could be inside her.

  She wouldn’t resist. She was pretty sure she would welcome him.

  He seemed to know that, too, and for one pulse-stopping moment she thought he was going to do exactly that. Her heart even slammed against her rib cage in anticipation.

  But then he pulled back harshly, removing his body and his hand from her in what felt like a cold slap.

  A cold slap that was matched by the sting of his words. “Keep your virtue, my lady. It was not part of the bargain.” His eyes skimmed over her. “Although you present a tempting invitation, a kiss was all that was required.”

  Elizabeth gasped as a sharp knife of pain slid between her ribs. She sat up and quickly pulled down her gown to hide her nakedness. “I wasn’t . . .”

  But they both knew she was. She’d offered him her virtue and he’d refused it.

  His gaze held hers unyieldingly, his mouth pulling into a tight smile. “You needn’t worry. The kiss was good enough. I’ll honor your ardent request to help free your brother.” She didn’t understand the snide turn he put on the word. “But in return you will honor mine.”

  “What?”

  “To leave me the hell alone.”

  The harshly uttered words spoken with such vehemence cut off her breath. Her chest squeezed with a pain sharper and deeper than she’d felt before. How could he touch her like that one moment, and then the next act as if he wanted nothing to do with her? She’d just experienced something extraordinary, yet it seemed to be nothing to him at all. And that made her feel oddly vulnerable, confused, and precariously close to tears.

  Her eyes scanned his face, looking for any sign of weakness, any crack in the formidable, handsome facade. Finding none, they came to rest on his. “If you are certain that is what you want?”

  With her gaze, she argued, pleaded, and begged for him to disagree. But her silent words had no effect.

  With one last long look, he gave her a sharp nod and said, “Aye, that’s exactly what I want.”

  The words had barely left his mouth before he was gone.

  10

  THEY’D RIDDEN THROUGH the day—and most of the night—but not thirty-six hours after that disastrous kiss, Thom stood in the shadow of the formidable Bamburgh Castle, listening to Douglas go over the plan that would send Thom 150 feet up a cliff and into one of the most formidable castles in England.

  Though his former friend had avoided him over the long, harrowing ride across the dangerous Marches, Thom had felt Douglas’s scrutiny more than once.

  Douglas was a suspicious bastard. Thom’s silent acceptance of the order to accompany him—rather than the anger Douglas had undoubtedly been expecting—hadn’t sat well with him. Douglas was probably wondering whether his sister had anything to do with it.

  If he only knew.

  Douglas would kill him. And it would probably be deserved. Thom had been one thrust away from taking her innocence and destroying them both.

  He’d acted dishonorably, and he knew it. For his entire life, Thom had prided himself on always doing the right thing. In a world that only cared about who you were, not what you were, he’d always told himself that it was actions that made a man noble—not blood. But he’d acted as base as the world wanted to make him.

  And all for what? To prove a point? To make her see what was between them? To make her realize what she’d forsaken?

  Well, he’d succeeded. He’d proved that there was a hell of a lot more than friendship between them. He’d proved just how incredible it would be between them. He’d proved that she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.

  But at what cost? The hard-wrought peace he’d found, and the new life he’d built for himself, had been shattered. He would hear the cries of her release in his dreams for the rest of his life. He would hold the memory of her kiss, the sweetness of her mouth, the softness of her skin, and the perfection of her breasts forever. Any woman he took to his bed in the future would suffer by comparison.

  For a few precious minutes he’d had everything he’d ever wanted, and it had been better than he’d ever imagined.

  He never should have touched her. He still couldn’t believe he’d lost himself like that. But he’d had plenty of hours over the long journey to recall in vivid detail exactly how close he’d come to giving Douglas a reason to stick that blade in his gut.

  But Thom didn’t give a shite about what Douglas thought or suspected. He was here to do a job. The sooner the better, which was one of the reasons why Douglas’s decision to wait until the following night to make their ascent didn’t sit well.

  “There is no reason to wait. I’m ready now,” Thom insisted. “There are still three or four hours before dawn.” He had already inspected the cliff below the castle. “It won’t take me longer than three-quarters of an hour to climb. Even with the additional time to secure the rope, have you and the rest of the men climb that last section, and hoist the rope ladder to climb the wall, we will have Archie out of there well before the sky begins to lighten. Besides, the mist is thick tonight and will shield us from any soldiers who happen to pass.”

  Douglas’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to being contradicted—especially by someone in Thom’s position. But it was bad enough that he’d been forced under his former friend’s authority again, he would be damned if he’d keep his mouth shut when he didn’t agree with something—especially when that something involved his life and area of expertise. He and Douglas would never be equals, but they were both warriors, and the field of battle had a way of leveling.

  “The rocks are damp from the rain earlier,” Douglas pointed out.

  “As it rains almost every night this time of year, they’ll likely be wet tomorrow as well. At least today it is relatively warm. Tomorrow it could be colder and the wet could turn to ice.”

  Ice would make that last section of the cliff impassable—too dangerous for even him to attempt.

  “I thought you would need time to recover after the ride.”

  Thom’s jaw tightened. “I’m fine.”

  He’d had to work hard to keep up with the rest of the men, but his struggle with riding—usually a source of amusement—wasn’t when it came from Douglas.

  “MacGowan’s right,” MacLeod said. Thom was more pleased by the support than he wanted to let on. Over the past day and a half he’d been impressed—maybe even awed—by the warriors who rode beside him, and none more so than by the man who appeared to be their leader. “If MacGowan says he can do it, we should let him try. The lad has already been in there for six days.”

  Jamie’s expression darkened, and despite the bad blood between them, Thom felt a twinge of compassion for his fo