He refused to elaborate and Bridgid didn't think she needed to know the gruesome particulars anyway. "Will you be going home soon?" she asked then.
"Yes."
She nodded. "Good journey to you, then." And with that she tried to leave.
"We aren't finished yet."
"What more do you want from me?"
"More? I haven't asked anything of you yet… have I?"
She shook her head.
"Come closer, Bridgid."
"I'm fine where I am."
"Come closer," he commanded, and there was a thread of steel in his voice now.
She wasn't going to miss his bossiness, she decided as she walked forward. She stopped directly in front of him. "Is this satisfactory?"
"Closer," he ordered.
She moved to stand between his outstretched legs. "Is this close enough for you?"
"For the moment."
He was obviously enjoying her discomfort, and she was thoroughly confused. Ramsey seemed to be toying with her, and that didn't make any sense at all. He couldn't possibly know what agony it was for her to be so close to him and not touch him. God, how she wished she didn't love him. It was misery. Just thinking about watching him leave made her want to weep, but she vowed she'd die before he saw one tear.
"Uncle Morgan said you wanted to tell me something. What is it?"
"Uncle Morgan? When did he become a relative?"
Her chin came up a notch. "I've become very close to him."
He rolled his eyes. "You aren't staying here. That's what I wanted to tell you."
"I've made up my mind to stay."
"Then unmake it. You're going home with me."
Bridgid was suddenly so angry with him for being such a stupid, obstinate man, her temper exploded.
"No, I'm not going back. I'm staying right here. Uncle Morgan said that I could. I like England, Laird. Yes, I do. You and all the other soldiers blatantly lied to me. You made England sound like purgatory, but I found out the truth. The land is as beautiful as ours, and the people are just like us. I'll admit they're a little difficult to understand because of the way they speak, but I'm getting used to it. Do you know how many Englishmen helped Gillian and me on our journey here? Hundreds," she exaggerated. "Families who could ill-afford to share insisted that we take their food and their blankets. They even offered us their beds. They looked out for us, and we were strangers to them. All those stories were just lies. I like this country, and I like Gillian's uncle. He's kind and sweet."
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.