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He shifted restlessly. Physically, he was exhausted. He’d set off on Tannasg just after dawn and stayed out until nightfall with precisely that aim. But his mind refused to settle. It felt so wrong to be in here alone when the woman he wanted slept just down the hallway.

The woman who had nearly died because of his transgressions.

No matter how hard or how far he rode, he couldn’t outrun his guilt-plagued memories. His black despair when Verity had fallen. The unalloyed terror in her eyes as she’d clung to the mountainside. Her collapse into unconsciousness after he’d rescued her.

He’d told Hamish he wanted to break her. Damn it, that had been the point of this entire misguided exercise.

But contrary to every expectation, he’d found no satisfaction in seeing her humbled last night.

When she’d made it clear she would endure his presence in her bed because she had no alternative.

Once, a willing and cooperative mistress was all he’d sought. Once, he wouldn’t have hesitated to take what she’d offered. But that was when he’d only known Soraya.

Soraya would tolerate his attentions.

Verity, the Verity he’d come to know in the last days, would suffer as she lay beneath him. As she’d suffered since he’d brought her to the glen.

He was tired of self-deception. He could no longer pretend she masked her desire for him with false reluctance.

No, she’d told him repeatedly she despised him. It was time he had the courage to accept that as the truth.

Oh, yes, he gave her pleasure, but that pleasure wounded her like a knife. She hated him for seducing her. Worse, she hated herself for being weak enough to respond.

He’d always feared his passion would lead to devastation.

It was too late for him. It had been too late the moment he’d seen her six years ago. He should never have pursued her when she’d left Kensington. But if he let her go now, surely she’d be able to escape his catastrophic obsession.

He must let her go.

Releasing her would be the most difficult thing he’d ever do. But if keeping her meant risk to her life and sanity, he had to set her free.

Her scream as she’d fallen down the cliff still echoed in his mind and made his gut clench with horror. He’d come so close to losing her. And now it seemed he was to lose her indeed.

Yesterday, he’d learned a number of salutary lessons. None welcome. All well overdue. Among them, that he’d leap over that cliff himself before he caused her one iota more of pain.

Unseeingly, he stared out into the darkness and swore he’d do the right thing. For once.

He had no choice, damn it all to hell.

The harrowing decision made, he tried for the thousandth time that night to sleep. But wisdom in hindsight proved an unsettling companion. Especially when the woman he wanted was forever out of reach.

Forever.

What a bleak word.

Christ, if only he could sleep. Even bad dreams would be an improvement on lying here contemplating life without her.

He stifled a groan. The pain was too sharp.

He couldn’t bear it.

I can bear it. For her sake.

He rolled over with another groan. The sheets chafed his naked skin. His muscles were sore from yesterday’s exertions and today’s long ride. He needed rest, but the endless night extended ahead of him as a desolate watch.

The first of many. His only consolation was that finally, too late and after the damage was done, he’d found the will to act like a man.

If only dawn would come.


Tags: Anna Campbell Historical