“If you leave now, Damian, so help me…”
He backed toward the door. “Sweet Suzanne.” His sexy Scottish lilt, more pronounced when he was angry or turned on, washed over her like a lusty red wine. “Dream of me.”
He backed out the door and shut it.
Well, damn.
21
Now where the hell was he going to sleep?
Damian wandered the halls of the castle. All of his stuff was in Suzanne’s room.
What had he been thinking?
She wanted him, and he had walked away.
His hunger roused the wolf. His body trembled, but he would not sate himself. Not with anyone but Suzanne. He couldn’t bear the thought.
This wooing thing was going to kill him.
Don’t fall right into bed with her. Show her she’s worth the wait.
Number thirty-two in the first article. Number ten in next. Stupid thing had appeared in nearly all his research.
Of course, the idiots who wrote these—probably all women—didn’t say what to do when his urges overpowered him.
He glanced at his watch. Half past one in the morning. He had left Suzanne an hour ago. Had he been pacing all this time?
“To hell with wooing,” he said aloud and then ran to Suzanne’s room.
He opened the door without knocking. There she was, sprawled on the bed, naked, her brown tresses fanned like gossamer wings against her pillow. Her plump breasts rolled gently with each sweet breath she took. Her legs, slightly bent, tangled in the cotton sheet. Damian took a sharp breath, her loveliness nearly too much to bear. Then he noticed the black curls between her legs. Still moist.
God she was beautiful. Like nothing he had ever seen before. His cock ached for her.
He disrobed quickly and climbed into bed next to her.
“Damian?” Her voice was raw, as though she had been crying.
“Aye. It’s me.”
She turned to him, wrapped her arms around him, and drew him close.
“Damn it, if you ever leave me like that again, I’ll rip your head off.”
He chuckled softly. “My mistake, love. All this wooing nonsense. Never again. I promise.”
“Do you want to…?”
“In the morning, mo cridhe.” He feathered a few kisses across her forehead. “Go back to sleep now.”
Oh, he wanted to have her. It was a fierce need, a driving hunger. His body yelled from within to climb on top of her and thrust into her, take her, make her his. But a stronger desire overpowered his basal instinct. A need to hold her, protect her, be with her. What he felt in her arms was like nothing he had known before. Security. Safety. True love.
True love? Where had those words come from?
He smiled to himself and inhaled the sweet vanilla fragrance of her hair. Was it possible, after only a few days?
He had known from the first instant that she was his. He didn’t understand it, but that didn’t make it any less real.
Aye.
True love.
22
Suzanne awoke entangled in Damian’s arms. She ran her fingers lightly over his back. The scratches had healed.
Wow.
They had healed fast, hadn’t they?
She traced his wolf tattoo. An incredible work of art. But why? Why would he tattoo his entire back? She eyed him up and down. He didn’t appear to have any other tattoos. She smiled to herself. She had always wanted a tattoo but had never possessed the courage to get one. Wade would have freaked out. Maybe she would ask Damian to take her to get a tattoo while she was here. It would be a fun souvenir of her few weeks in Scotland.
Few weeks? The words hit her like a bolt of lightning. She didn’t live here. She wouldn’t be staying. This thing with Damian—it would end.
Sadness hit Suzanne like a harsh rainstorm. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to know Damian better. He was the best thing to come into her life in a long time. But she had a job.
A home.
A life back in the States.
“Oh, Damian.” She sighed.
He turned over, opened his eyes, and smiled. “Morning.”
“Good morning,” she said.
“Sleep well, love?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Aye.”
“I’m sorry about last night, Damian.”
“You’re sorry? About what?”
“I…whatever I did to anger you. To drive you away.”
He chuckled softly. “You did nothing, mo cridhe. It was me. All me. I was trying to woo you.”
“By leaving me hanging?”
“Aye.”
“Who in the world told you to do that?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure, but all the articles I read said that I shouldn’t push you into bed. And I know I’ve been…persistent up until now.”
Suzanne smiled and raked her eyes over his incredible body. “You have been. But Damian, last night I wanted you. I thought you knew.”
“Aye, I knew.”
“Then why did you leave?”
“I thought it was what I had to do. To woo you, that is.”
“Okay, listen to me.”
“What is it?”
“Throw out all that research.”
“You mean you didn’t like the flowers, the dinner, the moonlit walk?”
“No, no. All that stuff was great.”