He did understand. “I told you, one breath of scandal, and everything I’ve worked for disappears. The world won’t see me as a talented painter, fit to vie with the men. Instead, they’ll dismiss me as one more silly, fallible woman who didn’t know what was good for her.”
Fergus moved closer and took her hand. Warmth surged up her arm and settled around her heart in a way that warned her how perilously close she was to giving in.
“So you’re telling me that while you’re tempted, you mean to say no because the dangers are too great.”
She stared up into his face. She’d never met anyone like him. “We’d be impossible together.”
“We’d be exciting.”
“We’d end up wanting to kill one another.”
“Or each time we tumbled into bed, we’d die of pleasure.”
Probably both. She didn’t underestimate the physical attraction raging between them. Even now, when he wasn’t doing anything overtly seductive, she wanted to press herself against that tall, lean body and run her hands over his skin. She wanted to kiss him and suck his tongue into her mouth. She wanted to shove him back onto the grass and beg him to show her everything that her nun-like devotion to art had so far denied her.
The flaring heat in his eyes told her he guessed the trend of her thoughts. And he approved.
She broke their gaze to stare down to where her hand lay in his. The choice should be clear. Compared to everything she had at stake, what did it matter that the merest sight of Fergus Mackinnon set her heart dancing?
“Are ye still in love with Paolo?”
The question was so surprising, her attention jerked back to his face. “Paolo?”
“The other art student.”
“Of course not. I was only sixteen.” Was Fergus jealous? How delicious. “He’s married with six children now, anyway.”
“Good.” Fergus’s grip on her hand tightened. “I don’t want you thinking of any man but me.”
Frowning, Marina tried without success to withdraw. “Fergus, I’ve told you why I must say no.”
His expression remained serious. “You’ve told me why you’re careful, and why I must be careful with you.”
He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them. Heat engulfed her. Another warning of the power he’d wield if she broke the rules of a lifetime.
“Per carità, stop it,” she said, as he kissed her fingers again.
She couldn’t blame him for ignoring her command. Her protest sounded like a breathy invitation for more.
“You’ve said you don’t want to risk a bairn. I’ll do my best to see that doesn’t happen.” He lowered her hand but kept hold
of it. “You’ve said ye don’t want gossip to stain your name. Here at Achnasheen, we’re a world away from fashionable society. Who’s going to spread tales to your patrons? You have my vow I’ll never tell another soul that we came together, and I’m credited as a man of my word.”
She knew he was. She mightn’t agree with him about much, but she respected his integrity. “We’ve only known one another three days,” she said almost despairingly.
“So ye want time to think?”
“I’ve told you…” She cringed at her voice’s continuing lack of conviction.
He raised his free hand to cradle the side of her face. Straight after he kissed her, he’d touched her like this. Glancing little contacts that spoke of affection and tenderness rather than seduction.
Although they were powerfully seductive, too. And he knew it.
“Haven’t ye been lonely, Marina? It’s all well and good, living for your art, but brushes and paints and canvas willnae keep you warm at night.”
She had been lonely. Since meeting Fergus, she’d realized how much. She suspected he’d been lonely, too. There was only room for one at the top of his mountain. She couldn’t dismiss the picture of a brave nine-year-old boy setting aside his grief for his dead father and taking charge of his family and estate.
“It’s dangerous to listen to you,” she whispered, as the warmth of his palm on her face curled through her like a drift of scented smoke. “It’s dangerous to kiss you.”