Julie Garwood - Ransom

The last of her tirade made him laugh. "You think Morgan's kind and sweet?"

"Yes," she insisted. "And he likes me too."

"But you're a Sinclair."

"There's nothing for me there."

"What about the man you told me you loved?"

She took a step back, but Ramsey grabbed her and pulled her close to him. She tried to look everywhere but at him so she could concentrate.

"I don't love him anymore," she declared.

"What the hell do you mean you don't love him anymore? Are your feelings so shallow, then, Bridgid?"

"No," she answered. "I loved him for the longest time, since I was a little girl, but now I realize he's completely unsuitable."

Ramsey didn't like hearing that. "What exactly is unsuitable about him?"

"Everything," she cried out. "He's obstinate and arrogant and very stupid. Yes, he is. He's a womanizer too, and the man I marry will be faithful to me. I'm not going to waste my time on him any longer. Besides, he can have any woman he wants. They throw themselves at his feet," she added with a nod. "And he's completely unaware of me."

"Ah, Bridgid, he's very aware of you."

"The man doesn't even care that I exist."

Ramsey smiled. "Of course he cares."

She pushed his hands away, but Ramsey caught her about her waist and began to slowly pull her up against him.

"What are you doing?"

"What I've wanted to do for a long time."

She couldn't move, couldn't think. She was lost in his dark eyes, and as he slowly lowered his head toward hers, she whispered, "Are you going to throttle me, then?"

He was laughing when he kissed her. Lord, she had the softest, sweetest lips, and he felt such incredible joy and peace holding her in his arms. His mouth opened over hers, taking absolute possession. His tongue swept inside to lazily mate with hers, and he was taking his time savoring her taste, believing he was in full control, until she began to kiss him back.

She shook him to the core. Ramsey had never experienced anything like it. His arrogance and his control vanished, and he was shaking with desire. It happened so swiftly, he had trouble catching his breath. His mouth slanted over hers again and again and passion ignited. He couldn't get close enough to her to satisfy him.

When he realized he was trying to justify tossing her on the table and making love to her then and there, he forced himself to stop. They were both panting for breath when he lifted his head.

She was having as much trouble regaining her senses as he was. She actually swayed when she took a step back. "Why did you kiss me?"

"I wanted to," he answered, his voice as smooth as velvet.

"Were you… Was it… a farewell kiss? Were you saying good-bye?"

He laughed. "No," he answered. "You're going home with me."

"I'm staying here. I'm going to marry an Englishman."

"The hell you are," he roared, and he was more stunned than she was by his burst of temper. No woman had ever been able to get that kind of reaction from him, but the thought of his Bridgid with any other man enraged him.

"You're a Sinclair, and you belong with us."

"Why do you want me to go back?"

For the first time in his life, Ramsey felt thoroughly vulnerable. It was a hell of a miserable feeling. "You want the truth, Bridgid?" he stalled.

"Yes."

Their gazes held while Ramsey got up the courage to tell her what was in his heart.

"You make the Sinclair land a joyful place. I cannot imagine life without you."

She shook her head. "No, you just want to marry me to some-"

He stood up and took a step toward her. "There has been a request for your hand in marriage."

"Is that why you kissed me? So you could take me home and then marry me to a man I don't love? Who is he?" she demanded, emotionally spent now and uncaring that tears were streaming down her face.

He started toward her.

"Don't you dare kiss me again," she ordered. "I can't think when you… Just don't," she stammered. "And as for the offer, I decline."

"You can't decline until you know who he is," he reasoned.

"All right. Tell me his name, and then I'll decline. You're going to praise him first though, aren't you? That's what you always do to try to get me to agree," she ended, and even she could hear the heartbreak in her voice.

"No, I'm not going to praise him. He's riddled with flaws."

She stopped trying to run away. "He is?"

He slowly nodded. "I have it on good authority that he's stupid and arrogant and obstinate, or at least he was until he realized what a fool he has been."

"But that's what I said about… you."

"I love you, Bridgid. Will you marry me?"

Brodick didn't know what the hell he was going to do. He felt as though his hands were tied behind his back because Morgan was his elder and he therefore couldn't browbeat him into ordering Gillian to go home with her husband, and he sure as certain couldn't tear the man's home apart searching for her. At the root of his frustration lurked the dark possibility that Gillian would never forgive him for breaking his word to her, but life without her at his side would be unbearable.

Ramsey might have been able to help him sway the baron-he was the diplomat, after all-but he was too busy wooing Bridgid to think about anything else. It had taken him a good hour to convince her he was sincere and determined to marry her, and after she had finally agreed to his proposal, they'd left for home. Iain hadn't stayed around to help either, as he was anxious to get back to his wife.

And that left Brodick to deal with the bad-tempered baron on his own,

Morgan was vastly amused when Brodick didn't eat any of his supper. Just as he finally made up his mind to help the poor, lovesick man, Morgan spotted Gillian coming down the stairs.

Brodick's back was to the entrance, and Morgan knew he hadn't spotted his wife.

"Son, you had to have known how stubborn Gillian was before you married her. Anyone who spends more than five minutes with the woman figures that out."

"I knew she was stubborn," Brodick agreed. "But I don't consider that a flaw."

"I think you should leave her here and go on home. You'll be better off."

Brodick was shocked by the obscene suggestion. "I don't have a home without her," he muttered. "How could you think I would leave her?"

"I would," Morgan replied cheerfully. "Tell me, why did you break your word to her?"

"I've already explained why," he snapped.

Morgan snapped back. "Explain it again."

"Because the thought of her in danger was unacceptable to me. I cannot lose her."

"Then don't ever lie to me again."

The sound of her voice made his heart feel as though it were about to burst with joy. He sighed, calm now, for his world suddenly made sense to him again. And then he turned around. "Don't you ever put me through this torment again," he ordered.

"Promise me that you will never lie to me again."

"Not until you promise me that you'll stop taking such foolish risks. When Proster told me you were inside with that bastard, I thought I was going to… damn it, you scared the hell out of me, Gillian, and I never want to go through that again."

"You hurt me."

"I know."

"That's all you have to say? You know you hurt me? Then I'm staying here. Go home, Brodick."

"Fine," he answered. Bowing to Baron Morgan, he walked out of the hall. She waited until the doors had closed behind him and then burst into tears.

"He's leaving me," she cried as she ran to her uncle.

"You just told him to leave," he pointed out.

"He's going home without me."

"But you just told him to," he argued. "I heard you plain and clear."

"But he never does what I tell him to do. Uncle, how am I going to live without him?"

He awkwardly patted her back, trying to console her. "You'll do just fine."