Ada could feel everything—the heat of his bare chest through her gown, the strength in his arms, the way he trembled slightly when she made a small sound in the back of her throat.
He wanted her. She could feel it in the tension of his body, in the way his hand tightened in her hair, in the way he kissed her like he'd been starving for it.
Magnus pulled back. His breathing was uneven, his eyes dark. "Ada."
"Why did ye stop?"
"Because if I dinnae stop now, I willnae be able tae stop at all." His voice was rough. "And I promised ye I wouldnae push."
"But ye want tae." It wasn't a question.
"God, aye. I want tae." Magnus's hand cupped her face. "But wantin' and daein' are two different things."
He stepped back, putting distance between them. Creating space, she didn't want.
"I need tae get dressed," he said. "And ye need tae go see Mairi before she thinks ye've forgotten about her."
"Magnus."
"Please, Ada. Just, give me a moment."
Ada nodded slowly. She could see the conflict on his face—desire warring with something else. Control, maybe. Or fear.
She left the chamber, closing the door softly behind her.
And tried very hard not to think about the fact that Magnus had kissed her like he was drowning and she was air.
But had still pulled away.
Still created distance.
Still seemed to think that wanting her was somehow wrong.
Magnus stood alone in the chamber, his hands braced against the table, his whole body shaking.
He'd kissed her. Had pulled her against him and kissed her like he'd been dying to do since the moment she'd walked down that aisle in her wedding gown.
And she'd kissed him back. Had melted into him, had made those soft sounds that drove him mad, had touched him like she wanted more.
But he couldn't give her more.
Because this was all wrong.
He shouldn't trust her. Shouldn't believe her story about the festival, about her father, about being desperate and alone. Freydis had told him convincing lies too. Had made him believe she loved him. Had played him for a fool.
What if Ada was doing the same thing?
What if this—her kindness to his people, her willingness to share his bed, her soft words about trust—what if it was all calculated? What if she was just better at lying than Freydis had been?
Magnus's hands clenched into fists.
But even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't true.
Ada wasn't Freydis. Wasn't manipulative or cruel or dishonest. She was exactly what she appeared to be—a woman trying tosurvive, trying to make the best of a situation neither of them had chosen.
And he was falling for her. Was already more than halfway gone, if he was honest with himself.
That terrified him more than any battle ever had.
