brought tears to her eyes, but he was kissing her again, distracting her from everything but pleasure. His hard body eased deeper into hers, and she curled her arms around his neck, holding on to him as he began to rock against her in a slow, sweet rhythm. Soon, the slide of their bodies and the wet, hot connection between them became the single most exquisite thing she’d ever experienced. She felt pried open to this man, body and soul, and he to her. Nothing could hide between them as they joined each other into one beating heart, one fused soul.
Brodie’s hands explored her body, but there was no violence in this, no wickedness. It was lovemaking, with painfully teasing touches of their lips and hands as he thrust in a timeless rhythm that seemed to go on forever.
She stroked her fingertips along the corded tendons of his neck and down the hard-sloping muscles of his shoulders. The moment her pleasure seemed to spike and then cascade over an invisible edge, she clung to him, calling his name over and over as the last of her defenses crumbled and she fell completely and irrevocably in love with Brodie Kincade. He cried out as he found his own pleasure, and she sank into sleep almost instantly beneath him.
Brodie recovered his breath, his body quaking with the force of a climax that had rocked him to his core. Lydia’s eyes closed, a hint of a smile hovering about her soft, kissable lips as she fell asleep.
All he could do was stare down at her in confusion. Lovemaking had never been like this before. Yes, he had been with women sweetly, gently, but this was different somehow. It was infinitely more. He had drowned in the blue of her eyes and was washed away by the sound of her sighs and moans, like listening to the sea endlessly crash upon the shore. In that instant, he had felt a reverent worship for her like no other.
He felt lost and yet also like some part of him had been found. A part he thought lost forever, the part that still believed in foolish dreams of love and hope. But that wasn’t possible. There could be no hope for him, not with his father’s violence in his blood. No matter how much he wanted Lydia, it would be wrong to subject her to a life with someone like him. He’d only be a greater monster if he did.
He disentangled his body from hers as gently as he could and tucked her beneath the covers to make sure she was warm. He dressed and walked down to the taproom, where he purchased an entire bottle of whiskey.
Rafe came down a few minutes later and pulled up a chair beside Brodie. “How’s the kitten?”
Brodie refilled his glass from the bottle and took a deep, burning drink. “Sleeping.”
“Well, was it that bad, or that good?” Rafe asked with an amused chuckle.
Brodie didn’t pretend to mistake the man’s meaning. “A little too good,” he admitted.
“Oh? So the clever minx had practice, then?” Rafe waved a hand to a barmaid for a bottle of his own. Smart man. Brodie would have thrown a punch if he had dared to reach for his bottle.
“Not at all. She was as innocent as a babe, but of course you knew that, didn’t you?” Brodie growled.
His companion merely shrugged. “Finally figured it out, did you? That one is the kitten. You left the viper in Bath.”
“You should’ve told me, Rafe. I ruined a decent woman.”
“You have ruined other innocent women, Brodie. She wasn’t your first.”
“She came with me at knifepoint. I have destroyed her life with my hunger for revenge.”
“Not necessarily. You could marry the kitten.”
“Marry her?” Brodie threw his glass back, downing another gulp of whiskey. “No, I canna marry anyone.”
“Why not?”
“Because Lydia deserves a good man. A sweet, gentle fellow who will worship her every step and faint away at her every smile and cover her bedchamber with flowers.”
“And that’s not you?” Rafe asked quietly, his blue eyes burning intensely.
“No.” He was a wicked man with wicked desires, yet he wanted with all his heart to be that man for Lydia, but he knew he would only be fooling himself.
“So now that you know the truth, are we still bound for Edinburgh? Or do we go back to Bath?” Rafe poured himself a glass of whiskey and sipped it.
“We keep going. We canna go back. I’ve taken her to my bed.”
“Very well.