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“And so are you,husband,” Yvette shot back, her voice steady despite the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “If not, then why did you come here? I don’t imagine you came to stare at me and return to your chambers.”

Killian nearly laughed at her audacity, but he swallowed the sound, unwilling to let her see the crack in his composure.

Instead, he stepped even closer, his resolve hanging by a thread as her scent—something faintly floral and maddeningly sweet-filled his senses.

“Aye, I came for something entirely different,” he admitted.

To taste you,he heard the voice in his mind, and he could not quite deny it.

Yvette folded her arms again, clearly unwilling to let him off the hook so easily.

The gesture, though innocent, was torturous, emphasizing the swell of her barely concealed breasts once again, and Killian clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look her in the eye.

Every ounce of self-control he possessed was needed to resist the urge to let his gaze wander lower.

His imagination betrayed him, conjuring images of her beneath him, her skin warm and soft to the touch, her lips parting as she whispered his name?—

Lord,what was he becoming?

He shook his head sharply, as though trying to banish the sinful thoughts.

Focus, he reminded himself.

“We didn’t finish our conversation properly,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“We didn’t?” Yvette asked, her tone softening, though the curiosity in her eyes remained sharp, “There isn’t more to be said about that,” she added.

“Well I have more to say,” Killian cleared his throat, forcing his eyes to stay on her face while he spoke. “You should spend more time with Maisie.”

Yvette began shaking her head before the words had left his lips. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“I cannot do that to her. If my interactions with her are forced, Maisie will only resent me.”

“She is a child. How would she resent ye?” he asked.

“You really do not know anything about children, do you?”

“Excuse me?” His anger flared.

“What I meant to say is thatyoudon’t even know her. You’re stiff around her when all she wants is to be aroundyou. Not me.” Yvette’s tone softened but her eyes remained sharp.

And, although he had heard what she’d said, Killian’s eyes couldn’t help but wander over her body, and that goddamned thin, ruby nightdress, which swished and hugged over her delicious curves. He wondered how soft the fabric would feel under his hand, whether it would be cool to the touch, or the warmth of her smooth skin would penetrate through…

Good God, Braemore.

Here he was, lusting after his wife like a schoolboy.

After clearing his throat, Killian stepped back, retreating several paces. The distance was crucial, a barrier between him and the overwhelming desire that threatened to consume him.

“You need to be close to her,” he said simply.

The conversation hadn’t gone how he’d hoped, and now he was left with his desire for her overriding his reason.

Killian took another step back, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He needed to leave—now, before he’d be forced to stay against his wishes.

One more moment in her presence, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to restrain himself.

“Goodnight, Yvette,” he said gruffly, his tone leaving no room for further conversation.