Leona wanted to reach for him. Wanted to tell him that maybe they could figure it out together, that maybe she didn’t need all the answers right now, that maybe this could be enough if they both tried.
But the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, she knew that ‘maybe’ wasn’t good enough. Not for something as permanent as marriage. Not for the rest of her life.
“Then we’re at an impasse,” she said finally.
She walked to the door, her legs still unsteady, her whole body feeling borrowed and strange. Her hand was on the latch when his voice stopped her.
“Leona.”
She didn’t turn around. Couldn’t bear to see whatever expression was on his face.
“I’m nae the enemy,” he said quietly. “I’m tryin'. It’s just… harder than ye think.”
“I ken,” she whispered. “But that doesnae make it hurt any less.”
23
Murdock stood alone in his study, staring at the closed door through which Leona had just left.
His body still thrummed with unspent desire, his hands still remembered the feel of her skin, and his chest ached with the weight of her final words.
But that doesnae make it hurt any less.
He’d hurt her. Again. Despite every intention to protect her, to keep her safe, he’d managed to cause her pain in ways that had nothing to do with physical harm and everything to do with the parts of himself he couldn’t seem to give.
The council meeting could wait. Hamish would understand. But duty called, and Murdock had never been one to shirk his duties, no matter how much he wanted to chase after Leona and make this right.
He fixed his clothes, wiped his face with his hands, and strode out of the study with his jaw clenched tight enough to ache.
The council meeting was as unbearable as he’d expected. Fraser led the discussion, his concerns reasonable but grating. Malcolm argued for stronger defenses. Angus questioned the wisdom of the entire arrangement.
Murdock answered their questions with clipped efficiency, his mind half on strategy and half on dark hair and forest-green eyes.
When they finally dismissed him, the sun had moved considerably across the sky. He returned to his chambers, intending to find Leona, to attempt some conversation that might bridge the chasm between them.
But she wasn’t in the hall. Wasn’t in the courtyard. When he inquired after her, a servant told him that she had requested her meals be brought to her chambers and wished not to be disturbed.
She was avoiding him.
The realization shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.
That night, Murdock lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying every moment in his study. The feel of her coming apart under his hands. The way she’d looked at him with suchdesperate need and such terrible sadness. The quiet devastation in her voice when she’d said his passion wasn’t enough.
Because I want yer heart, too.
He had a heart. It beat in his chest, kept him alive, functioned as it should. But giving it to someone? Letting them hold something so vital, so vulnerable? The very thought made his throat close up with a fear he couldn’t name.
He rolled onto his side, punching his pillow with more force than necessary. Two days until the wedding. Two days to figure out how to give Leona what she needed without becoming the monster he feared he would be. Two days that felt like both too much time and not nearly enough.
The next day passed in a blur of wedding preparations he had no interest in. The staff bustled about with flowers and ribbons and other frivolous things that seemed absurd given the circumstances. They were preparing for war as much as a wedding, but no one seemed to want to acknowledge that particular truth.
Skye was beside herself with excitement, chattering endlessly about the ceremony and the feast and how beautiful Leona would look. Murdock let her talk, finding some comfort in his daughter’s joy even though his chest felt hollow.
He didn’t see Leona at all that day. She remained sequestered in her chambers, and he lacked the courage to force a confrontation. What would he even say? That he was trying? That he wanted to be different but didn’t know how?
Empty words. She deserved more than empty words.
That night was worse than the first. Murdock paced his chambers like a caged animal, his mind churning with thoughts that led nowhere productive.
