The Sinner

“Ye were never particular before,” Glynis said in a low voice.

“I had nothing to lose before.” Alex stood up. “Go when ye wish. I’ll not stop ye.”

*  *  *

Sorcha flicked her eyes from her father to her mother and back again. Their sadness weighed down on her chest. She squeezed what was left of her doll. Bessie tried to hide Marie, but Sorcha always found her again.

She knew her parents had been waiting for her to speak. Sometimes when she was alone she could make the words that were always in her head come out of her mouth. But that was before she learned her mother was leaving. She’d heard whispers about it all over the castle.

Sorcha wanted to tell her mother not to leave them. She wanted to ask if it was her fault that she was. But her chest grew tighter and tighter, trapping the words inside.

CHAPTER 47

Glynis was leaving tomorrow.

As Alex had always suspected, he was incapable of keeping a woman happy for long, incapable of being the good husband and father he wanted to be. Blood will out.

But he missed Glynis so much his heart ached with every step. He had tried shouting at her, reasoning with her, and threatening her, and he had come very close to begging her. Now he would make one last attempt.

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