“I dinnae ken when it started,” he admitted. His voice was dangerously honest, unshielded. “Or how. But it’s a fact now. Yer happiness matters tae me… too much.”
Elsie’s heart fluttered wildly, painfully.
“Halvard,” she breathed. His name left her lips like a confession.
He moved before she could blink, closing the distance, one hand cupping the back of her neck, his thumb brushing the curve of her jaw. His touch was warm, grounding, yet it sent shivers racing down her spine.
“Elsie,” he murmured, so close she felt his breath on her lips, “ye’re gettin’ under me skin.”
“Is that so terrible?” she whispered.
He shook his head once, slow and aching. “It’s the only thing that’s felt right in a long time.”
Elsie’s fingers curled into the fabric of his tunic. Halvard’s heartbeat thudded under her palm, once strong and steady, but now racing.
And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t frantic like before, not born of fear or relief. This kiss was deliberate, deep, a claiming and a surrender all at once. His mouth moved against hers with hunger held barely in check, with a tenderness he probably didn’t even know he was capable of.
Elsie melted into him, every pulse in her body sparking to life. His other hand slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She gasped softly at the feel of him—solid, warm, unmistakably wanting.
“Elsie,” he rasped against her lips, “tell me tae stop.”
“I won’t.”
He groaned, low and tortured, undone. In a single fluid motion, Halvard swept her off her feet, lifting her effortlessly into his arms, and Elsie let out a breathless gasp, her hands flying to his shoulders.
“Halvard!” she shrieked, startled by the sudden movement, by the speed with which she found herself dangling in the air.
“Hush,” he said, his eyes dark with heat and something deeper. “I’m takin’ ye somewhere more private.”
Any protests she had died on her tongue before she could express them. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than for Halvard to take her to their chambers, giving her an outlet for the need that had coursed through her ever since he kissed her.
Ever since he had revealed just how much he cared for her.
Halvard carried her through the dim halls, and every inch closer to their bedchamber tightened the coil of desire winding insideher. The moment he crossed the threshold, he closed the door behind them with his foot, and Elsie forgot how to draw breath into her lungs.
The fire in the hearth glowed low, casting warm shadows across the room—the same room where they had pretended to be married, where they had shared hesitant smiles, stolen glances, had had arguments and had made stubborn confessions.
But now, none of this was pretense.
Halvard set her down gently, as though thinking that if he wasn’t careful, he might crush her with the intensity burning through them both. He cupped her face again, his forehead resting against hers. When he spoke, his voice shook.
“Elsie… are ye sure?”
She nodded without hesitation. “Yes.”
“Even kennin’ what this means?”
“I don’t care,” she said. “I want you.”
His breath came out in a ragged sigh. Then he kissed her again—deeper, needier, passion coiling between them like fire drawn to flame, and Elsie surrendered to it, trusting him to give her what she needed the most.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Elsie could still feel Halvard’s confession lingering in the air between them—the fact that he had spared the boy, the way his voice shook when he admitted how deeply he felt for her.
And how desperately he wanted her.
