Chapter 29
Ava’s glare was sharper than steel.
When Caden had entered the Great Hall, he knew it would not be easy to win her back. But God, this was harrowing.
Setting Nathan on the chair with a smile, he rose slowly, as though approaching a skittish animal.
“That was his mistake,” he said cautiously. “He thought duty and love were enemies.”
Ava let out a short, bitter laugh and looked toward the fire. “They usually are.”
“Nay,” Caden said firmly. “They arenae.”
She looked back at him, her eyes flashing. “Ye chose duty every time it asked ye to choose between us.”
He hung his head. “I daenae deny it. I did it to the detriment of our marriage.”
He would take the full punishment, whatever she chose. He deserved it. He would do anything to win her back.
“And I was wrong. But I willnae pretend that duty doesnae matter. I am the Laird of Clan MacCabe. I always will be until the day I die. But I was wrong to believe that loving ye would weaken me. Ye give me strength I didnae ken I could possess, Ava.”
Ava jutted her chin, though her voice wavered. “Ye shut me out.”
“I ken.” His jaw tightened. “I believed distance would spare ye. Instead, it nearly destroyed us.”
She blinked fast. “Ye daenae get to decide what spares me.”
“Nay,” he agreed softly. “I daenae.”
Silence stretched between them.
Nathan whimpered, seemingly sensing the tension and unsure what to do about it.
Ava softened immediately, kneeling to pull him close. “It’s all right, darling,” she soothed.
Caden crouched and looked her right in the eyes.
“I must do this duty to meself and ye. And our boy,” he whispered.
“I promise I will be the man who deserves ye, lassie, because I cannae stay away anymore. I daenae even want to try.” He swallowed thickly.
“I fell in love with ye because of who ye are when nay one is watching. Because ye chose Nathan without hesitation. Because ye choose kindness even when it costs ye.”
Ava let out a shaky breath and gripped Nathan tightly. The poor boy looked between them.
“I love ye,” Caden said simply. “Nae as duty demands, but as a man who finally understands that love isnae something to be protected from—it is something to be protected with.”
Ava’s eyes filled with tears. She leaned down and kissed Nathan’s head. “Yay,” she murmured. “Da told a crazy story, indeed.”
Nathan giggled and wrapped his arms around her neck.
Ava stood, hugging him tightly.
Caden stood as well and stared at his family. A sniff sounded from the corner behind them, and he turned to see Finlay watching them.
Finlay raised an eyebrow, as if to say, I told ye so.
Caden gave him a warm smile, but then rolled his eyes. He would have to find a way to thank his brother properly for telling him to pull his head out of his arse.
Nathan yawned widely; the long days had caught up to him at last.
“Tired,” he murmured, snuggling into Ava’s chest. He closed his eyes and drifted off.
Ava pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, before walking over to Finlay and handing him over for the evening.
Caden watched the exchange, finding no jealousy in his heart. There was only happiness that his wife and brother were friends.
As Finlay took the sleeping child into his arms, he winked at Caden, before walking out of the hall.
“May I speak with ye in yer study?” Ava asked.
Inside the study, Ava felt her heart rate quicken. A fire crackled in the grate, and she stood by it to ward off the chill notin the air.
She slowly turned to Caden as he closed the door.
“Did ye really mean what ye said?” she asked warily, not willing to trust her heart.
Caden nodded. “Aye. I meant every word.”
“And if loving me endangers ye?” she pressed. “Or yer position? Or yer people?”
“Then I will face that danger with ye,” Caden declared. “Nae behind yer back. Nae alone.”
The fire popped loudly.
“Ye cannae promise me safety,” she said.
“I promise ye honesty,” he emphasized. “And partnership. And that I will never again make decisions for ye.”
Her shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of her at once.
“I never asked ye to stop being Laird,” she whispered. “I only asked ye to be me husband.”
Caden stepped closer, stopping just short of touching her. “Then let me try again. Properly. If ye will have me.”
Ava swallowed.
For a long moment, neither moved.
The study was quiet but for the low murmur of the fire and the soft creak of settling stone. Shadows stretched across the shelves, gilding the spines of old ledgers and history volumes.
She looked up, her eyes bright with hurt and fury. “If I trust ye again—if I let ye in—will ye decide one day that loving me is too dangerous and pull away?”
“Nay,” he said immediately. “Daenae mistake me fear for a lack of love. I didnae leave ye because I felt nothing. I left because I felt too much.”
“And that’s supposed to comfort me?” She laughed.
Caden stood there, feeling raw, vulnerable, exposed. “It’s the truth.” He swallowed hard. “I want to be honest with ye. Share everythin’ with ye.”
She searched his face, the familiar lines, the strength she had learned to read. “And if it costs ye?”
“Then it costs me,” he said simply. “I daenae want a life that keeps ye safe at the expense of losing ye.”
Something in her broke then—not shattered, but opened.
“Ye’re a right stubborn, bampot, bastard jackarse, coward, ye ken that?” She rolled her eyes.
The corner of his mouth lifted, and his shoulders relaxed. “Aye, lass. And ye are married to me.”
“I didnae ken I was marrying ye.” She huffed a laugh and fisted a hand in his shirt. “I didnae even ken who ye are. And now here I am.”
“Here ye are, Ava.” He smiled down at her. “And ye’re choosing this.”
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. It was not gentle. Weeks of restraint and fear and want collided between them, her mouth demanding, his answering without hesitation.
He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks as though memorizing her. She tasted smoke and salt and something achingly familiar.
Caden broke the kiss to look into her eyes.
“Daenae stop.” She pulled him down by the collar and kissed him passionately.
Their tongues collided and dueled. Their fingers tangled in each other’s hair. She pressed herself up against him, feeling his hardness through his kilt.
“I couldnae if I tried,” he murmured, deepening the kiss.
They moved together toward the wide desk, papers forgotten as Caden lifted her easily and lowered her onto the edge. The firelight caught in her hair as he kissed along her jaw and down her throat, his breath hot against her skin.
“If this isnae what ye want, tell me to stop,” he said against her neck.
She threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him hiss. “Daenae even think about it.”
His answering growl made her toes curl.
He kissed her as though he had been waiting years for this moment. He worshiped her body as if it were a holy relic, sacred and life-giving.
Layers fell away. Their shoes were discarded. Caden undid the laces of her bodice and corset, each touch slow and certain, learned through longing rather than habit.
Ava pressed her forehead against his, breathless. “Ye’re here,” she whispered.
“Aye,” he said. “I’m here, and I will never let ye go. Ye’re mine. Always and forever mine.”
Ava surged forward, kissing him hard—mouth open, demanding, months of frustration poured into the press of her lips against his.
Caden groaned, the sound deep and pained, his hands sliding into her hair as though he might lose her again if he did not hold her tight enough.
“God,” he breathed against her mouth. “I’ve wanted this—wanted ye—every night ye slept under this roof.”
“Then why did ye stay away?” she whispered, her teeth grazing his lower lip.
“Because I didnae trust meself to stop.”
She felt it then—how tightly he held himself in check, how carefully he touched her, as though reverence and desire were at war in his hands.
Caden gently laid her back on the desk. Her skirts pooled around her, the firelight painting her skin gold. He kissed her throat, her collarbone, each touch lingering, reverent, devastatingly intimate.
“Ye’re everything,” he murmured. “Everything I didnae ken I needed.”
Her hands slid beneath his tunic, feeling muscle and warmth and the unmistakable truth of how badly he wanted her.
She smiled, breathless. “Seems ye’ve suffered enough.”
His laugh was a deep and pained sound. “Cruel woman.”
He pushed her skirts to her waist and knelt in front of her. She felt him touch and lick and kiss all the places that had been desperate and hot for weeks.
Release came, shuddering through her for several long moments. Ava tried to catch her breath as the pleasure ebbed.
“Is that all, me Laird?” she teased.
His eyes darkened several shades. “Never,” he growled.
Ava flushed and swallowed, unsure of what came next.
Caden lifted her into his arms, kissing her as he carried her to the rug by the fire. Slowly, he kneeled down, never breaking their kiss. Her hands clutched onto his broad shoulders, not wanting to let go.
He laid her down before him, and her hair fanned around her head like a halo. Her bare skin on the fur rug was a conflicting sensation with the wetness between her legs.
He pinned her hands over her head, thick ropes of muscle framing her face. She pulled his tunic off, exposing the wall of muscles beneath.
“Ye’re beautiful,” he purred, his eyes roving her breasts.
He sucked a nipple into his mouth, making her moan.
They came together in heat and closeness, the world narrowing to breath and touch and the sounds of desire they could no longer contain. The fire crackled, shadows dancing as though the room itself bore witness and celebrated the union of man and wife.
When at last release came, Caden rested his forehead against hers, his hands firm on her waist, as though grounding himself in the feel of her.
“I love ye,” he said, unguarded, bare.
Ava smiled through the lingering tremors. “I love ye,” she murmured.
He kissed her then—not desperate, not hurried, but certain.
And for the first time since she had become Lady MacCabe, Ava felt wholly chosen.