Clinton Priest

Chapter Twenty Seven

Clinton's POV

I search the crowd for her familliar face, my hands clenching at intervals. I lick my lips in eager anticipation. It feels like the year 1759 when I first caught a glimpse of enchanting earthy eyes. Haven. Scarlet. Nothing alike, yet one and the same.

"You should say hello to the guests. They're waiting for you," George says.

"She's not here yet," I tell him. None of the Sinclairs are.

"They'll be here," he says with conviction. "You made sure of it."

I tighten my grip on the bannister at his words. He never understood the reasoning behind my actions. He 's simple in his thoughts. How could a man who has never felt the sting of betrayal comprehend the unquenching desire for vengeance? I admit that flawed as I am, perfection is something I should never demand from another. But is loyalty so impossible to receive?

My heart skips a beat when she walks into the room with her hand tucked into the curve of her grand father's wrinkled ones. She's proof of the beauty in simplicity. I wait a moment before making my way to her. My palms are sweating, my heart is pounding and it feels like 1759 when I first tasted the sweetness of her full lips. How could I desire a woman I despise with the very the essence of my being?

Her brown eyes lights up when she sees me and her lips soften with a smile. She slips her hand out of her grandfather's and takes a step towards me before her grandfather draws her back.

"Edwin Sinclair," I speak, "What an honor it is to have you in my home."

"I wish I could say the same," he says icily. I smile indulgently. He remembers. How long before he tells her, I wonder.

"If everyone understood the importance of silence, wouldn't the world be a less bloody place to live?" I say to him. His jaw clenches and I smirk at the sudden flash of fear in his eyes. I turn my attention to the woman next to him. I'm breathless underneath her wide eyed gaze.

"Scarlet Evangeline, you look beautiful," I say breathlessly.

She blushes prettily and bites her bottom lip.

"Thank you. You look beautifu... handsome!" She takes in a deep breath and I smile at her apparant embarrassment. "You look handsome."

I stretch out my hand to her. "Dance with me."

She hesitates before placing her soft hand in mine. Her cousin's blue eyes glares at us from the end of the room. The ruby necklace she wears is a beacon that draws my attention. It was my gift to her. To Haven. I flex my fingers. I long to rip the necklace of her pale neck and watch as the chain tears into her skin like it did to Isabelle. It will be satisfying for a while before the burning desire for the woman in my arms returns once more.

"He places his hand on her waist, guiding her to the dance floor. With every heave of his chest, he breathes her in, reveling in her sweet fragrance, realising the feel of her body as they glide on the dance floor to the haunting melody of the orchestra playing on the stage.

She is warmth and womanly heat. She's the moon, the stars, the earth, she's dripping sex. And she's all he wants for a night. Who is he?" I whisper into her ear.

She shudders against me and I draw her in close. I'm tempted to slide my hand lower down her waist and squeeze her pert buttocks but I don't. Even when consumed by lust and the dark desire to feel her blood stain my hands, I strive to remain the perfect gentleman.

"He's you," she says and I smile as I bury my face in her hair.

I knew she was smart when I first listened to her speak in the dinning room of her family. The timidity in her voice, the trembling of her hands are all distractions from the mind she holds.

"I haven't been entirely honest with you, Scarlet Evangeline. Your cousin might think the ruby resting on the swell of her breasts has enchanted me, but the only red I crave is you staining my sheets, absolutely breathless and completely mine" I tell her, twirling her as the music reaches a crescendo.

"You frighten me," she says. "What you are scares me."

"I want you to know me," I whisper to her, "all that I am, so that when the time comes, when everything falls into place, you will understand."

"You said you did not want me."

"I said I could not have you. But now I dare to take what I want. Will you deny me?"

"I can't accept you," she says softly. "You know that."

"Eventually, you will fall like the others before you," I say. I want her to get angry. I want to see the fire I know that burns deep in her heart refelect in her eyes.

"There have been others?"

I smirk. "More than I care to count."

She purses her lips and her brows furrow. "Are you jealous?" I ask.

"Jealous of death?" She scoffs, pulling away from my hold. "No."

I follow her as she walks stiffly away from the dance floor and out of the room.

"If it helps, you are the first woman to set me on fire. A fire so hot, I've been unable to quench it. I won't be capable of forgetting you after you're gone."

"I will not have sex with you," she snaps.

"Will the sun rise tomorrow? Yes. Will I have you in my bed, moaning and breathless from a long bout of love making before the month is over? Yes. It is inevitable," I tell her, watching as she turns to face me in righteous anger.

"I'm not some whore you meet on the street," she snaps.

"I've never been attracted to whores," I tell her. "It's the ones with morals that make my blood boil."

"Like my cousin," she says and Elizabeth's face emerges from the locked up parts of my brain. I hate that she thinks of her when she's with me. I hate the illogicality behind my thinking. I hate that she dangles her cousin in front of me like a bloody slab of meat before a wolf.

"This game you are playing will ruin us both," I warn her.

"You started it," she says.

"I know." I take a short lock of her hair and lean in close. "I only wish you understood the consequences."

"I'd never understand you," she tells me, sinking into me with every second that passes by. "There is always going to be something that separates us."

"I will raze those barriers to the ground and if I must, I will spill blood."

She turns to me, her brown eyes glint with unshed tears.

"Do you love me?"

"I crave you. I ache for you with every breath I take." I stare at her. "That is the truth," I whisper. "That will always be the truth."

"I'm going to hell for this," she whispers as she places her slender hand on my clothed chest, her fingers slowly unbuttoning the buttons in order to reach my bare skin. "Kiss me."

I rest my forehead against hers, my lips brushing her full ones fleetingly.

"I want to be your beginning and your end," I tell her.

"You already are," she says.

I shake my head.

"No."

"No?"

"I won't kiss you until I'm all you know."

"I hate you," she says.

"I know."