Devil in Disguise (The Ravenels #7) by Lisa Kleypas

“There,” she said aloud, clutching a sodden handkerchief. “All done. Now I must find something to do.” Perhaps she would work on her list of wonders. She would add the Great Wall of China to the itinerary. To her chagrin, a new sob caught in her throat, and another tear slid down. Fresh sorrow had escaped, ready to rampage again.

Holy Moses, she had to stop this.

She stood and went to the dresser for a fresh handkerchief, and paused as she heard a commotion from somewhere in the house. Good God, had someone been injured? Was it a brawl? There was the bang of a door being thrown open … feet pounding the stairs … a hoarse shout that sounded like her name.

She whirled around in alarm as someone burst into the room without knocking.

It was Keir, huge and disheveled, panting with trip-hammer force, as if he’d been running for his life. He stopped in his tracks, his fixed stare raising every hair on her body.

“What happened?” Merritt asked, utterly bewildered. “Why are you here? You … you’ll miss the train.”

“Merry.”

Chills of astonishment went down her spine. She couldn’t make a sound, only watched with wide eyes as he came to her.

Breathing raggedly, Keir reached for her hand and pressed something into her palm. Her gaze fell to the trembling strip of paper in her hand, and she saw their typed names.

The paper fell from her nerveless fingers. She looked into his eyes, light and burning like twin stars. Oh, God, he’d remembered.

“Keir,” she said, trying to sound very calm, “it doesn’t matter now. Everything’s been settled. That night was a diversion for both of us, a lovely one, but … there’s no need to make a muckle into a mickle.” She paused, thinking she might not have said that right. “Keir—”

But the words were blotted out as he pulled her against him, his mouth seizing hers.

Somewhere outside this room, life rushed by like scenery outside a railway carriage, melting into a mad watercolor blur. But here in the compass of his arms, time had stopped. The ticking minutes caught fire and vanished into smoke. There was only the urgency of Keir’s embrace, the rough, vital kisses, the strength of him all around her. She’d never expected to feel this again.

Her hands groped around his neck, her fingers lacing through the thick shorn locks at the back of his head. The hard, clean contours of Keir’s face rubbed against hers, a different feeling than the coarse tickle of his beard. But the mouth was the same, full and erotic, searingly hot. He consumed her slowly, searching with his tongue, licking deep into each kiss. Wild quivers of pleasure went through her, weakening her knees until she had to lean against him to stay upright. As her head tilted back, a forgotten tear slid from the outer corner of her eye to the edge of her hairline. His lips followed the salty track, absorbing the taste.

Keir cradled her cheek in his hand, his shaken whisper falling hotly against her mouth. “Merry, love … my heart’s gleam, drop of my dearest blood … you should have told me.”

Merritt heard her own weak reply as if from a distance. “I thought … in some part of your mind … you might have wanted to forget.”

“No.” Keir crushed her close, nuzzling hard against her hair and disheveling the pinned-up coils. “Never, love. The memory slipped out of reach for a moment, is all.” His hand coasted slowly up and down her spine. “I’m so damned sorry for the way I’ve been trying to keep you at a distance. I dinna know you were already inside my heart.” He paused before adding wryly, “Mind, I did have to jump from a three-story window, with little to break the fall but my own hard head.” Taking one of her hands, he pressed her palm over his pounding heartbeat. “But you were still in here. Your name is carved so deep, a million years could no’ erase it.”

Completely undone, Merritt buried her face against his chest. “This is impossible,” she said in despair. “You shouldn’t have come back. We have no future. I wouldn’t be happy in your life, and you wouldn’t be happy in mine.”

Although the words were smothered in his shirt-front, Keir managed to decipher them.

Softly he asked, “Would you be happy without me?”

Merritt swallowed hard. “No,” she admitted wretchedly. “We’re doomed, separately or together.”

Keir cupped a hand over her head and gathered her deeper into his embrace. She felt a tremor run through him, and for a moment she thought he might be weeping. But no—he was laughing.

“You find this amusing?” she asked indignantly.

He shook his head, swallowing back a chuckle and clearing his throat. “I was only thinking if we’re doomed either way … we may as well stay together, aye?”

Before she could reply, he bent and caught her lips with his, coaxing a response she couldn’t hold back. Nothing was under her control. She was as reckless as a girl in her teens, overwhelmed with new emotions and ready to throw away everything for the sake of love.

Except even as a teenage girl, she’d never felt anything like this.

Keir was kissing her harder now, ravishing slowly, letting her feel his hunger, his need.

Unbelievably long, sensuous kisses … sometimes languid, sometimes fierce … kisses that made impossible promises.

A breath rasped in his throat as he let his lips wander gently over her face. “Merry, lass … I have to tell you what that night meant to me. How beautiful it was … how you quenched a thirst in my soul.”