“What didye mean by what ye said last night?”
He arched a brow,a faint curve of humor touching his mouth. “I said much the night before, lass,” he replied. “Can ye be more direct?”
Heat flooded her cheeks,and she swallowed. “Ye said… ‘Trust me lass. If I thought ye could handle it, I would show ye exactly how much I want ye.’” Her voice wavered, but she held his gaze.
Jaxon’s expression shifted,the humor fading into something earnest and darkly intent.
“Aye,”he said quietly. “It’s obvious I want ye, Gracie, but I ken ye’re nae ready. So, I will give ye time to get used to the idea.”
She scoffed,though her heart fluttered. “I have never heard of a man keepin’ back because his wife isnae ready.” Her eyes searched his, half daring him to contradict her.
He lifted one brow.“Ye have now.” His voice was calm, certain, as though it were the simplest truth in the world.
“And how wouldye prove such a thing?” she asked, surprised by her own boldness. The words left her before she could take them back.
A slow,dangerous smile touched his lips. “I’ll prove it,” he said, “Ye asked for this, lass.”
He climbedon top of her, pinning her wrists to the bed. She released a small gasp.
He leanedin and kissed her, and the world seemed to tilt beneath her. His mouth was warm and firm, unyielding yet careful, as though he balanced restraint with desire in every breath. Gracie moaned softly. Jaxon deepened the kiss just enough to make her heart stutter. His hand slid down her arm to her waist through the blanket, not roaming, only anchoring her there, as if to remind her she was his.
The kiss lingered,slow and deliberate, carrying heat that spread through her chest and down her spine. She felt his breath mingle with hers, felt the quiet power in the way he held himself back even as he drew her closer. Her world narrowed to the beat of her heart and the steady presence of him. When he finally lifted his head, her lips tingled, and she found herself chasing the space he left behind.
Jaxon restedhis forehead against hers, breathing slowly. “There,” he murmured. “That is me wantin’ ye, and stoppin’ all the same.”
She opened her eyes,dazed, still caught in the warmth of it. “Ye stopped,” she whispered, as though the idea itself were strange.
“Aye,”he said, voice low and steady. “Because I keep me promises, Gracie. I will nae touch ye more before ye are ready, no matter how much I desire ye.”
Her heart swelledwith something new, something tender and unsettling all at once. She had expected hunger, perhaps command, but not this careful strength. The realization made her chest ache.
Jaxon straightened,stepping back just enough to give her space, though his gaze never left her. “I will wait,” he said simply. “Nae because I must, but because I choose to.”
Gracie lay there,lips still warm, watching him with wide eyes. Desire still stirred within her, but now it was braided with trust and wonder. She realized that in holding himself back, he had given her something far more powerful than touch.
Gracie watched him walk out,the door closing with a soft thud. She remained seated, fingers pressed to her lips as if the warmth of him still lingered there. Her heart beat in uneven rhythm, and she could not tell whether it was fear or longing that made her breath come shallow. Never in her life had a man stirred her so, and the truth of it left her shaken.
She had believed herself plain,a lass meant for quiet corners and modest dreams, yet he had looked at her as though she were something rare. The kiss had not taken from her, and still it hadgiven her more than she knew how to hold. She felt awakened in ways she did not understand, as though a door within her had opened to a room filled with light and heat. The confusion of it made her press her palm to her breast, steadying herself against a tide she had never known existed.
Her thoughts returnedto his restraint, to the strength in the way he had chosen to stop. Men were meant to claim, her mother had said, meant to lead without hesitation, yet Jaxon had shown her another kind of power. In holding himself back, he had given her space to breathe, to choose, and that choice felt more intimate than any bold act could have been. It frightened her that she wanted to step toward him even as she clung to the safety of distance.
Gracie rosefrom the bed and crossed to the window, gazing out at the waking courtyard below. The castle moved on as it always had, yet she felt changed, as though she carried a secret fire beneath her skin. She realized that desire did not make her weak, nor did it steal her gentleness, but rather asked her to grow. And as the morning light touched her face, she wondered.
How willI ken when I'm ready for the marriage bed?
11
“Today’s the day I will be the only Gallagher in the castle. Me nerves are distressed,” Gracie said to herself as she walked from her bedchamber through the castle.
Moments later,she entered the dining room to find Andrew and Margaret already seated at a long oak table laid with a hearty Scottish breakfast. Bowls of warm porridge steamed beside platters of smoked haddock, fresh eggs, and thick slices of bread with butter melting into their pores. Oatcakes glistened with honey, and small dishes of berries added color to the gray stone chamber, while strong tea filled the air with comfort. It was a meal meant to fortify the body for long journeys, and the sight of it made her throat tighten.
Margaret reachedfor Gracie’s hand at once and held it between her palms.
“I hate leavin’ye here, me only bairn,” her mother said, voice trembling despite her attempt at calm. “Though the Laird seems honorable, a maither’s heart cannae help but worry.”
Gracie squeezedher fingers in return, trying to be brave for them both.
“I am a wee bit nervous, aye,”Gracie admitted softly, meeting her mother’s eyes. “But I am determined to be a good wife, and a good Lady to these folk.” She lifted her chin, drawing strength from the words as she spoke them. “Ye raised me to be kind and steady, and I will try to honor that here.”
