“I don’t want you?” He bit the words out, a growl rumbling in his chest. His fingers tightened on her upper arms and he drew her tight against his body, deliberately letting her feel his thick arousal. “Want is an insipid word, Isabeau, for what I feel for you. I’m not going to blow it with you because I can’t keep my hands off of you. That happened once and I’ll be damned if it will happen again.”

“You couldn’t keep your hands off of me?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know that. I knew better. Seducing a woman doesn’t always involve taking them to bed. I couldn’t stop myself, and look what my lack of control did to us.” For a moment there was naked pain on his face. “It was bad enough knowing I’d betrayed you, but to find out that before her death my mother knew what I’d done . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head. The mask—and resolve—slipped back into place. “When I take you to bed it will be because you want us there, not because your cat is screaming for relief.”

She flushed all over again, but her pride didn’t matter as much as his words. She held them close to her heart, for the first time feeling as if her mixed up world could come right again. Was it only her cat that wanted him? She didn’t think so, but she wasn’t sure, and Conner was right, she had to be certain. It made things easier knowing he hadn’t totally rejected her.

His hands framed her face, his thumb sliding over her lips as his gaze burned into hers. “You’re mine, Isabeau. You’ll always be mine. Make no mistake about it. Whether you choose to forgive me and give us a second chance, or you don’t, you’ll be my only.”

Her heart stopped. Just stopped. She could feel it there in her chest, twisting tight and then beginning a frantic pounding. For once her cat stayed quiet and she was allowed that perfect moment. She looked up into his face, a face that was etched forever into her mind—into her soul—and knew she was lost all over again. “Why didn’t you come after me?” That had hurt more than she could say.