He wanted her to stay with him because she trusted and respected him. Ah hell, he wanted her to stay because she cared for him. But with her leaving in the morning, Alex was desperate enough that he didn’t care if she stayed with him for the wrong reasons—so long as she stayed.
It was time to play to his strengths. He would get her into bed. And then he would drive Glynis so mad with passion that—against her better judgment and despite the lies she believed about him—she would take him back.
And even if she did not, Alex would have one last night with her.
* * *
Glynis sat by the window stitching because she had finished her packing and had nothing else to do. Although she’d rather be outside, it was better for both her and Alex if she avoided him until she boarded the boat tomorrow. It was one of those fine autumn days when they had a lull between storms and the sun shone as if it was summer. But in her heart, there was no break in the rains.
Alex’s laughter floated through the window, and her needle stopped. Alex was by nature full of good humor—and yet, how long had it been since she’d heard his laugh? She’d missed the sound of it.
Had he sought out another woman because Glynis drained the joy out of him? She was all hard edges and strong opinions. If she were easy and sweet-natured like her sisters, perhaps Alex would not have strayed. Or perhaps she could live with his straying.
But she was the difficult, demanding person she was.
Glynis set aside her stitching and picked up the silver medallion of Saint Michael from the table beside her. She twirled the medallion by its heavy chain and watched it spin, thinking of the day it had caught her eye in one of the shops that her aunt and uncle had dragged her into. When she left Edinburgh in a rush, she had tucked it away in her bag and forgotten it until she came across it while packing today.
She stopped it spinning and rubbed her thumb over it. She had traded one of her rings for the medallion because the image of Saint Michael, the warrior angel, looked so much like Alex.
Alex’s laughter came in through the window again. Drawn by the sound as if it were a string tied to her heart, Glynis set the medallion on the table and went to the window. The sight of Alex in the castle yard below stole her breath away. With graceful, swift movements, he was demonstrating the use of the claymore to a few of the older lads.
Alex with a sword in his hands was pure masculine beauty in motion. Glynis’s throat went dry as he danced and spun and sliced his blade through the air with deadly force. Her fingers itched to touch the powerful muscles of his chest, arms, and back as he swung the heavy sword from side to side with sure, smooth strokes.
When the men stopped to rest, Alex slapped one of the lads on the back. His broad smile, showing even white teeth, reminded her again of how little she had seen it of late. Long after Alex disappeared from view and the voices of the men faded, Glynis remained at the window. She stared off at the sea, remembering how Alex used to look at her with a sparkle in his eyes.
“Glynis.”
Her heart went to her throat at the sound of his voice behind her. When she turned, Alex stood in the doorway, his long, lean body propped against the door frame. He had not put on his shirt, and his skin glowed as if it still retained the warmth of the sun.
“I didn’t hear ye,” she said stupidly, as she dragged her gaze to his face—which was no safer than his body.
She loved everything about that face, from his stubbled jaw, to the strong planes of his cheekbones and forehead, to his wide, sensuous mouth. When she met his green eyes, they sizzled with the knowledge of every inch of her body.
Did Alex say more than her name? Glynis’s heart was banging so hard against her chest she could have missed it.
She tensed, trying desperately to convince herself to stop him if he came nearer. But then, a knot of disappointment tightened in her stomach when he did not. Instead, he crossed the room to the chair, watching her from the corner of his eye. From the way his mouth quirked up at the corner, Alex knew precisely the effect he had on her. Ach, he was a devil.
Alex sat in the chair, put his hands behind his head, and stretched out his long, muscular legs. Her breathing grew shallow as he let his gaze burn over her as if she wore nothing.
“Come sit on my lap, Glynis,” he said, crooking his finger. “Ye know ye want to.”
“I don’t,” she said, though her body was tilting toward him like a flower to the sun. How she longed for his touch.
Alex laughed. “Ye have always been a poor liar.”
“That is no a bad quality,” she said, stiffening.
“Aye, ’tis one of your charms,” he said, giving her a smile that sent a wave of desire through her. “I have a proposition for ye.”
“A proposition?” Her life had changed the last time he had said that to her.
“Come sit with me, and I’ll tell ye what it is.”
He was not angry and yelling at her. Alex was his old, lighthearted self, so without stopping to ask herself why, she went to stand beside him. Instead of trying to pull her into his lap, he ran his finger slowly up her arm. She could hardly push him away for such a small gesture, and yet the slow, light touch set all her senses alight. Her entire being focused on the course of his finger sliding up her arm under her loose sleeve.
When his hands enclosed her waist and lifted her onto his lap, no word of objection would come out of her mouth. She longed to close her eyes and lean against his solid frame. Why, why, why could she not just accept his nature, take the good with the bad? Alex could not help that women were drawn to him like flies to honey. He was who he was.
And yet, Glynis wanted to be the only one. She had to be.