Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“This way, lass,” Connor said.
Connor led Eva up the narrow wooden stairs, the boards creaking beneath their steps as the sounds of the tavern faded below. The room they entered was small but warm, with stone walls, a low-beamed ceiling, and a wide hearth where a fire already burned.
A heavy oak bed sat against the far wall, draped in thick wool blankets, and a small table with two chairs stood near the window. Tallow candles cast a soft glow, filling the chamber with the scent of smoke and beeswax.
He shut the door behind them, the latch clicking with a final sound that made the space feel suddenly intimate. Connor glanced about the room, satisfied, loosening his cloak and setting it aside.
“It’s a fine room. I have stayed here many a night,” he said simply, his deep voice calm but carrying a quiet authority.
He watched as Eva lingered near the door and could tell she was nervous and unsure of what to do.
A knock sounded, firm but polite, and Connor crossed the room to open the door. The innkeeper entered with a wooden tray bearing a bottle of amber whiskey, two chipped cups, and a pitcher of water beaded with moisture.
“Thank ye, Targon,” Connor said, handing the man a coin, and the innkeeper bowed before leaving them alone once more.
Connor set the tray on the table and poured a modest measure of whiskey into one cup. He turned and handed it to Eva, his fingers brushing hers briefly as she accepted it.
“For the chill,” he said, his mouth curving slightly, eyes dark and watchful.
She nodded, murmuring, “thank ye,” her cheeks already warm as she lifted the cup to her lips.
He poured himself a drink as well and leaned back against the table, studying her over the rim of his cup. The fire popped softly, and rain drummed against the window, sealing them into their quiet refuge.
Connor took a slow sip, savoring both the whiskey and the moment. He had faced battlefields without fear, yet the woman standing before him stirred something far more dangerous…desire.
Seeing her shift on her feet, Connor drew chairs closer to the hearth and gestured, his voice low but firm.
“Sit, Eva,” he said, watching her carefully as she obeyed. “We need to speak plain about this marriage, and we need to set the date.”
She folded her hands in her lap and met his gaze, saying quietly, “Aye, I’m ready to talk.”
He leaned back and crossed his arms. “It’s best we have the weddin’ soon,” Connor said. “The longer we wait, the more folk will meddle.”
Eva nodded but answered, “Soon is fine, but I’ll nae marry until me mam and me brother are fully healed, so they may attend.”
He studied her for a moment before saying, “Then we’ll wed next weekend. If that gives them time enough?”
Eva exhaled softly, relief flickering across her face. “That’s all I ask,” she said. “I only care that me family’s well looked after.”
Connor replied without hesitation, “That’ll nae be an issue, lass, they’ll want for nothin’ under me name.” She swallowed and said, “Then I’ve nay more demands of ye.”
Connor’s expression shifted, becoming more severe. “I do,” he said.
Eva stiffened slightly and asked, “What terms do ye have?”
He stood up and answered, “First, ye’re nae to expect love from me. This is merely an arrangement.”
She nodded slowly, replying, “I can live with that.”
“Second,” he continued, “ye’ll perform yer duties as me wife and, when the time’s right, ye’ll give me an heir.”
Eva inclined her head and said, “That’s only sensible.”
Connor held her gaze and added, “Third, ye’ll obey me without question.”
The words fell heavy, and silence lingered between them.
Eva’s brows knit together as she shook her head. “Nay,” she said simply.
Connor’s eyes narrowed as he asked, “Nay?”
She straightened and replied, “The first term’s fine, and the second I understand, but I’ll nae obey ye like I’ve nay mind of me own.”
His jaw tightened, and he said sharply, “I’m the Laird, Eva, and when I say obey, ye obey. Every member of me clan does.”
She rose to her feet. “I’ll nae be ruled like a child,” Eva said. “I’ll stand beside ye as yer wife, but I’ll nae be silenced.”
Connor stepped closer, his voice edged with steel. “Ye’re testin’ me already,” he warned.
Eva lifted her chin, her voice steady despite the tension. “I’ve survived worse than a sharp tongue and a title,” she said.
Connor scoffed softly and replied, “Stubbornness can be a strength or a curse.”
“Then I’ll pray it serves us both,” she answered.
The fire crackled between them, filling the space their words could not.
Connor looked at her long and hard before saying, “This marriage willnae be easy.”
Eva met his gaze and replied, “I never thought it would be. I will obey only when I agree with what I’m being asked to do. If that is nae enough for ye,” she said plainly, “then ye should look elsewhere for a bride.”
Connor felt heat surge through him, anger and admiration tangling until he could no longer tell them apart. He paced a step away and then back again, jaw tight as he argued.
“A laird cannae have a wife who challenges him at every turn.”
Eva countered, “I willnae become a shadow to soothe a man’s pride.”
The air between them crackled, thick with challenge and something far more dangerous…fiery lust.
Their voices rose and fell, clashing like steel, each refusing to give ground.
Connor accused her, “Ye are a lass built of stubbornness.”
“And ye're mistakin’ authority for strength,” she said.
He had never known a woman to look at him so, unafraid and unbowed. The realization stirred something deep and feral within him. The more she stood her ground, the more his pulse thundered.
Desire curled hot and insistent in his gut, threading itself through his fury. He had taken many women in his life, but none had ever dared him like this. It unsettled him, and it drew him to her all the same.
He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her as his voice dropped to a low growl. “Ye test me patience, and tempt fate with every defiant word, lass.”
Eva did not retreat, though her breath hitched and her eyes darkened.
“I willnae be bullied into submission.”
“I’ll make ye submit, lass.”
Connor seized her, one hand firm at her waist, the other cradling her jaw as he pulled her against him. His mouth crashed down on hers, rough and claiming, driven by a hunger he no longer cared to restrain. The kiss was fierce, demanding, and it stole the breath from her lungs.
Eva gasped against him. His lips moved over hers with bruising insistence, tasting, testing. He meant to prove a point.
I am yer Laird and ye will obey.
Connor felt her soften despite herself, felt the way her body fit against his like it had always belonged there. The knowledge fed the fire raging through him.
He deepened the kiss, pouring every unspoken want into it. Desire roared through him, sharp and urgent, making his blood sing. He wanted her defiance and her fire, wanted the woman who dared to stand before him and say no. The wanting was nearly unbearable.
Her hands came up, first to his chest, then fisting in his shirt as if she could not decide whether to push him away or pull him closer.
Connor groaned low in his throat, the sound torn from him before he could stop it.
He kissed her harder, slower, savoring the way she responded.
Every breath she took seemed to echo inside him.
He was keenly aware of her warmth, her scent, the way she trembled beneath his touch. It drove him mad with need, with the urge to claim and be claimed in return. His restraint thinned to a fragile thread.
Eva broke the kiss only long enough to draw breath, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.
In a shaken voice, she said, “Ye cannae win me this way.”
Connor rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard, his hands still at her waist.
“I’ve never wanted a woman more.”
The truth of it startled him with its force. He had intended to frighten her into yielding, yet all he had done was prove how deeply she affected him. The thought unsettled him as much as it thrilled him. He realized, dimly, that this was no simple battle of wills.
His lips brushed her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, softer now but no less charged.
The kiss had awakened something neither of them could ignore.
Connor felt the moment teeter, poised on the edge of something irreversible.
It was clear that stopping would take far more strength than continuing.
Connor caught her face in his hands, his breath uneven, and said low, “Ye’ve nay notion what ye do to me, lass.”
Eva’s voice wavered as she answered, “Daenae look at me like that, Connor, or I’ll forget how to stand.”
He huffed a rough laugh against her lips and murmured, “I’d rather ye forgot, if I’m honest.”
She drew in a sharp breath when he leaned closer, the space between them humming. “I daenae ken what is happenin’ to me.”
“Say the word, and I’ll stop,” he said, though his thumbs traced the line of her jaw.
Eva swallowed and whispered, “If ye stop now, I’ll curse ye for it.”
Connor groaned softly, brushing his mouth to hers, and said, “That’s a dangerous thing to tell a man like me.”
She answered him with a kiss that stole the rest of his restraint.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes dark, and said, “Look at me, Eva.”
She did, breathless.
He continued, “Ye set me blood alight, do ye ken that?”
Her cheeks flushed as she replied, “Ye arenae the only one feelin’ it.”
“The way ye challenge me,” he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth.
“Aye,” she said softly, “and ye like it more than ye’ll ever admit.”
He chuckled, lips trailing to her cheek, and said, “I’ve faced blades and battles, but ye’re the one who undoes me.”
She laughed under her breath, then stilled when he kissed her again.
“I should step back,” he whispered.
“Then do it,” Eva dared, though her hands curled in his sleeves.
He shook his head, voice rough, and answered, “I cannae, nae when ye’re lookin’ at me like that.”
Her smile was small and triumphant. “I willnae be ordered around,” she said quietly.
“And I willnae have a wife who bends till she breaks,” he replied.
She searched his face and asked, “Do ye mean that?”
“Aye,” he said, then added, “God help me, I do.”
He kissed her again, slower now, and whispered, “Ye feel right here in me arms.”
“Connor,” she breathed his name and said, “Then stop fightin’ me.”
Connor groaned, hands firm at her waist, and replied, “I’m tryin’ to be better than me temper.”
“Then let me stand with ye, nae under ye,” she said.
He drew back, forcing space between them, and said, “I will nae take ye before our weddin’ night. But there are other ways of pleasin’ me betrothed.”
Eva met his gaze and answered, “I’m nae afraid. Show me.”
Connor exhaled, voice husky, and said, “Ye should be sure, first.”
She smiled faintly and said, “I am.”
He rested his brow to hers once more and murmured, “This is only the first of what’s to come.”
“Aye,” she agreed, steady and sure, “and I am curious.”
Connor nodded, desire still thrumming, and said, “Careful of what ye ask for.”