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.
