“Aiden?” she called softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
He grunted in response, letting her know he was still awake.
“I’m cold,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “We should at least share the blanket… and if you won’t get into the bed, I’ll come down to the floor with you.”
There was a pause, and she could almost feel him weighing her words. Finally, he sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. “Ye’re a stubborn lass, are ye nae?” he muttered as he stood up from the floor.
Katie’s heart fluttered as she heard the rustle of blankets and the creak of the bed as Aiden climbed in beside her. The mattress dipped under his weight, and she immediately felt the warmth radiating from his body. It was a stark contrast to the cold that had been biting at her moments ago. She hadn’t realized just how cold she was until his warmth began to seep into her.
Lying so close to him, under the same blanket, was something she had never experienced before. She could feel the heat of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying.
Katie had never been this close to a man before, and the sensation was entirely new to her. Her thoughts wandered to her friends, wondering if they had felt this same mix of emotions—this heady combination of fear, excitement, and something else she couldn’t quite name.
The minutes ticked by as the silence between them grew heavier. She wondered if Aiden had fallen asleep, for his breathing was slow and even, but she couldn’t stop herself from whispering, “Are you asleep?”
“Nay,” came his gruff reply, startling her slightly.
Katie hesitated, biting her lip before she gathered the courage to ask, “Why don’t you want a wife?”
There was a beat of silence, and she thought he might ignore her question altogether. But then he spoke, his voice low and hard. “That’s none of yer business.”
She turned to face him, feeling a pang of disappointment at his curt response. “I’ve always dreamed of marrying,” she confessed softly, “but I don’t want someone who just wants me for my dowry.”
Her words seemed to strike a nerve. Aiden suddenly pushed the blanket aside and got out of bed, crossing the room in long, agitated strides. He stood by the window, his back to her, his hands tightly gripping the windowsill. The tension in his posture was unmistakable.
Katie hesitated for a moment before she slid out of bed and followed him. She reached out tentatively, placing a hand on his arm. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice gentle but laced with concern.
Aiden turned to face her, and before she could react, he pulled her close, his grip firm but not painful. His eyes burned with an intensity that took her breath away.
“Regardless of whether ‘tis real or fake,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, “I willnae have me betrothed talkin’ about other men. Is that clear?”
The words sent a shiver down her spine, not of fear, but of something far more primal. The possessiveness in his tone and the raw emotion in his gaze were so intense that she found herself unable to look away.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Aiden’s gaze softened slightly, but the tension between them was still thick and charged. His eyes dropped to her lips, and she witnessed the moment when his resolve began to crack. Without thinking, she tilted her head up, her lips parting ever so slightly in invitation.
It was all the encouragement he needed.
With a low, guttural sound, Aiden closed the distance between them, his lips crashing down on hers with a fierceness that stole her breath away. The kiss was heated, desperate, and full of a need that neither of them fully understood. Katie felt herself melting against him, her hands clutching at his shirt as though she might drown if she let go.
His arms went around her waist, gripping her backside fiercely, making her gasp against his lips. Then she felt his tongue gently teasing her, parting her lips until it plunged into her mouth, desperately tasting her. He smelled of burning wood and pine, and the feel of his facial hair only stirred her passion for him. Her hands explored the collar of his shirt as their tongues fought for supremacy, feeling the warmth of his neck and the downy hairs there.
As they kissed, his hands slid up the curves of her body. He pulled away abruptly and began kissing her exposed neck, his tongue darting across her flesh. She whimpered as his hands caressed the swell of her breasts. He was all she could feel, all she could sense, and it made her desperate for more.
He continued to fan the flames of her desire, flicking his tongue over her collar before capturing her lips yet again. The world around them ceased to exist. There was only the two of them, lost in the intensity of the moment, in the fire that had been building from the embers between them since the moment they met.
Just as abruptly as it started, their fervent passion subsided, and his warmth disappeared, his hands releasing her. It was cold now, and she could sense that he was suddenly cross. His soft, bright eyes had turned hard, and his posture mirrored his testiness.
“Get some sleep,” he ordered, turning away from her.
“I… I’m sorry…”
“Stop temptin’ me, and ye’ll have nothin’ to be sorry for,” he snapped at her, shaking his head and turning away. “Get some sleep.”
Before she could respond, before she could defend herself and point out that he had initiated their kiss, he disappeared. The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind him and took the warmth and passion they had shared with it.
How can he be so contrary? So heartless? He knows I’m a stranger here, yet he treats me no better than a servant. What did I expect? What could I expect? He is a man of action, yet as immovable as stone and as bitter as salt. Why did I want him so desperately?
