Chapter 10 #2
His eyes blazed, just for a moment. Stepping forward, Evander seized her wrist, pulling her toward him. He was careful not to squeeze too hard, but at the same time, there’d be no wriggling out of his grip. She didn’t try, but perhaps that was due to her shock at being manhandled.
Leaning down, he came almost nose to nose with her.
“Think what ye will of me,” he whispered, “but I’ll make one thing clear, here and now. I would never force me attention on an unwilling person.”
She blinked slowly, like a cat. Was it a challenge? He couldn’t tell, but she stayed quiet, so he continued.
“Some men believe it is their right to take what they want. By force, if need be. I’ve ken men who believe their wives are their own property, and that any woman they meet has a price, and an affordable one at that. I am nae such a man.
“But I will say now—and I expect ye to believe me—that I never forced any intimacy on ye, nor did I nag for it like a petulant child. I’d be grateful if ye would trust me on this.”
She stared back at him for a full second, then cleared her throat and lifted her chin.
“Right,” she said, her voice catching just a little. “I see.”
“Besides, yer defiance is hardly alluring,” he added.
It would have been wiser to stay silent and let the moment pass. Too late now.
“Me defiance?” she gasped, her eyes widening. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means what I said. It means…” He leaned in further, feeling the warm rush of her breath ghost across his face. “… that I ache to tame ye.”
Her pupils dilated. He was close enough to breathe in the lavender and roses in her hair. He could count the colors in her eyes and every eyelash. His belly quivered, his chest tightening as if he were diving underwater.
“As if ye could,” she breathed. “Tame me? Never.”
He grinned, letting his mouth inch wider and wider. Her eyes dropped to his lips, tracing the curve with her eyes. In turn, he let himself look at her lips.
A mistake, of course.
They were pink and soft. He remembered in a juddering rush how intensely he’d imagined kissing those lips before. Had he ever come close?
Nae as close as this.
“Oh, lass,” he whispered, shaking his head. “Ye would be surprised at how easy it would be to make ye beg for me.”
Her breathing quickened. He could hear the shudder of air coming from her, sharp breaths sliding out in a jumble. He could see her chest rise and fall, her skin a pink blur beneath her nightdress. The garment was too large on her, the neckline loose.
He could hook a finger under the collar and gently slide it sideways, easing the neckline off her shoulder.
He imagined it: the slow reveal of warm skin, the tickling gasp of her breath against his cheek.
In the same scene, he imagined himself seizing the collar in both hands, applying his strength and tearing the material enough to let the whole garment fall apart, dropping away from her as if she were shedding a second skin.
“Is that the only reason?”
He blinked, jolted out of his sensuous reverie. “What?”
She was still staring at him, her eyes pensive. “Is that the only reason we didnae lie together, or kiss, or even spend much time together? Is it because ye believed I didnae want ye?”
His imaginings vanished, the heat cooling in his chest as if he’d jumped into an ice-cold pool.
“Well, nay,” he said, before he could think twice about his answer.
As expected, she spoke again, asking the obvious question.
“What were the other reasons?”
He wavered, wondering if now was a good time to end the conversation. Back home at the keep, he would end uncomfortable conversations with persistent partners by simply walking away and relying on his long, brisk stride to leave them behind.
Here, there wasn’t really anywhere to stride to.
I cannae lie to her. I never could.
He sighed, meeting her gaze. “I daenae want children.”
She flinched, frowning as if she might have misheard.
Well, of course, she would be surprised. Everybody wanted children. Women wanted babies, and men wanted sons to carry on their legacy. Old folks needed children to take care of them when they were old, and lairds needed heirs.
Even if one did not have particularly strong feelings about children, that hardly mattered. Children followed a marriage as a matter of course. Nobody said that they didn’t want children.
“What, nae ever?” she managed. “But ye are Laird Bryden. Ye must have an heir.”
“Ye sound like me councilmen,” he muttered darkly.
“Aye, but—”
“Enough. Enough questions, lass. Concentrate on remembering who ye are before ye pry into me life, eh? Focus on yer past before worrying about mine.”
She pressed her lips into a thin, mulish line and said nothing.
He planted his fists on his hips, narrowing his gaze at her. When she stayed quiet, he spoke again.
“Now, if ye are done probing into what is none of yer business, I suggest ye get some sleep. We’ll be up at dawn to travel on, and ye will be tired. Ye must rest, and so must I. We have a long road ahead of us. Good night to ye, lass. I’ll wake ye when it’s time to rise.”
He turned his back, intending to slip out of the door and take his place stretched out before it, but then she spoke, taking a half-step after him. He could hear her bare foot slap on the floor.
“Wait!”
Evander froze, his back still turned. There was a pleading, hopeful note in her voice, just the tiniest hint of a crack there. He closed his eyes, tightening his fists.
“Must ye tempt me every single moment, lass?” he breathed, hopefully not loud enough for her to hear.
Her silence hinted that she might have heard anyway.
At last, he turned, somewhat hesitantly.
She stared at him, her face unreadable. “I… I daenae want to be alone,” she stammered.
Have I ever heard her speak in such a plaintive way? Nay, I think nae.
“I will only be outside,” he responded.
She closed her eyes. “Even so, I cannae sleep alone. And believe me, this embarrasses me as much as it does ye.”
He thought about refusing. A quiet demurral and a pointed exit would deter her, he was sure of it. She wouldn’t cry or whine; he knew that.
Instead, he let out a long, jerky sigh. “I’m only flesh and blood, lass. I wish ye would stop testing me.”
He turned slowly and found her looking at him, her fingers twisted together. His chest ached. Her eyes, wide and dark in the gloom, flashed up at him, unblinking. As if she were seeing straight through him and into his head. Worse, into his heart, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.
“Please?” she whispered.
That undid him.
He wanted to lunge forward and wrap her up in his arms. He wanted to hold her, squeeze her, press her against him. Instead, he gave a small smile and a nod.
“If that is what ye want,” he said.
She nodded, smiling in unabashed relief. Without another word, she turned on her heel and hurried over to the bed, scrambling inside. He followed, his heart thumping. She slipped under the covers and hesitated, clutching the edge of a fur.
“I daenae intend to get into bed with ye,” he said pointedly. “I’ll lie on top of the blankets.”
“Oh. Aye, of course.”
She turned away, probably so that he could not see her blush, but he could imagine it anyway.
The ropes creaked under his weight. He clambered awkwardly onto the bed, sinking into the straw mattress. He preferred a harder bed, and sometimes slept better on the ground than he did on the finest feather beds.
Somehow, I daenae feel like I will be sleeping much tonight.
He rolled onto his back, the pillow dipping under his head, and stared up at the ceiling.
Skye shifted beside him, clearing her throat.
“Are ye comfortable?” she asked.
He rolled his eyes. “Are ye going to tuck me in?”
She huffed, obviously annoyed at his tone. “Fine. Goodnight, then.”
She scrambled to turn over, her back facing him.
With a long sigh, Evander propped himself up on his elbow and leaned over to blow out the candle.
It’s going to be a long night.