GASPING, HE checked his momentum, but not in time. His silver blade flashed, sliced in, sending a shiver up his arm. The man before him crumpled to the ground, his lifeblood pumping into the dirt. His eyes stared unseeing at Jason… hazel eyes… Emerald’s hazel eyes… Caithren’s hazel eyes…
Caithren’s brother’s hazel eyes.
His heart racing, Jason let out an anguished yell as he awakened. He curled up on the bed. His breath heaved. He couldn’t recall what he’d eaten for supper, but it felt like it were about to come back up.
“Jason?” Caithren leaned over him, patting his shoulder uncertainly.
He moaned. His head pounded from overdrinking last night—something he never did—and a frustrated dampness squeezed from beneath his clenched eyelids.
Dear heavens, he’d killed her brother.
She would never accept him, never love him, never stay with him, never marry him. As though killing an innocent man hadn’t tainted him enough, the man had been her brother.
With all his might, he wished she’d really been Emerald. He would still love every stubborn inch of her, and he might have a chance with Emerald. Emerald would understand the driving need for justice that had turned him into someone he didn’t recognize. Emerald would understand the way killing, even unintentional killing, changed a person.
But Caithren…sweet, provincial Caithren…
She wouldn’t.
And he’d killed her brother. Her brother. How could he expect her to forgive him, when he couldn’t even forgive himself?
He couldn’t tell her the truth.
He had to tell her the truth.
“Jason?” Her hand jiggled his shoulder, spiking the pain in his head. Not that he didn’t deserve it. Slowly he rolled over and gazed up at her.
“Was it the nightmare again?”
He nodded.
Her lovely hazel eyes filled with compassion. “It will go away when you know who he was.”
“I—”
He broke off. Words simply failed him. He needed to tell her…
But how?
Concerned, she leaned closer, sweeping sweat-damp hair from his forehead. Flowers of Scotland overwhelmed him. She was close, so close. He could almost taste her—
No, he couldn’t do this. Not this time, not this way.
He needed to tell her.
He couldn’t tell her.
Not telling her was a lie.
But though he knew he’d pay for the lie, he couldn’t seem to find the words.
Still she moved closer…
CAIT KNEW THE moment he gave in.
He pulled her closer, bringing her mouth down to his. His kiss wasn’t angry or hesitant—instead it was sweetly cherishing. It seemed as though the whole of his attention was focused on that kiss, as if, for that moment, nothing else existed in his world.
The sheer intensity frightened her. She’d wondered if the magic of that stormy night was repeatable, but now she was afraid to learn the answer.
If it were yes…how would she ever find it in herself to leave him?
Not that he would ask her to stay.
The truth brought a pang to her heart. But then he rolled and took her with him, and she ended up in his bed with him gazing down at her, his eyes deep green in the hazy dawn light.
“Jase…” She wrapped her arms around him, her hands ranging all over his back, and he kissed her again, kissed her until she found herself a melting mass of sensation. And still he kissed her.
A long while later, he sighed and moved his lips to her forehead. “Your arm?”
“It’s fine.” She drew back enough to smile into his clear green eyes. “You made me forget all about it.”
He grinned, then groaned as his gaze wandered to the now-bright window. “We’d best get some breakfast and ride into London to warn Scarborough.”
“Aye,” she agreed on a sigh.
“Say it again.” Smoothing the hair off her face, he kissed her softly. “My name.”
She frowned. “Jason?”
“The other.”
“Oh.” Her heart swelled. “Jase.”
“It sounds right from you, sweet Cait,” he said before claiming her lips once more.