She straightened her back, her gaze challenging. “You won’t find any mistakes.”
He turned back to look at her. “Sure of yourself?”
“Very.”
He met her gaze. All of a sudden something else occurred to him. Nay, she wouldn’t have … would she? “What else have you been reading?” He took hold of her arm. “Have you been reading my correspondence? Myprivatecorrespondence?”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze, but the dark stain on her cheeks deepened.
He swore, the effort to control his temper forgotten. He quickly thought back over the past few weeks. He’d received only two secret missives from MacDonald, which he’d kept in his sporran briefly before burning. He thought he’d been careful, but he hadn’t anticipated that his wife could read.
Fear ate at him. When he thought of the danger she could be in if she unsuspectingly saw something she shouldn’t …
How was he supposed to keep her safe if she kept nosing into matters that did not concern her? She’d crossed the line. “Damn it, Christina, I told you to stay out of it.”
Crushed, Christina felt the hot prickle of tears burn in her eyes. This wasn’t at all as she’d planned. He was supposed to be grateful—maybe even impressed and proud—not furious with her.
Just like her father.
He wasn’t like her father. He was fair. He would welcome help no matter the source. Wouldn’t he?
I don’t need you, he might as well have said.
His perfectly chiseled face was as hard and unyielding as granite. “I don’t understand why you are so angry,” she said. “I thought you’d be pleased.”
White lines appeared around his mouth. “Pleased to have you reading my personal correspondence?”
She cursed her fair coloring and inability to control the heat from rising to her cheeks. There was no excuse. But couldn’t he see that she just wanted to be part of his life? “I only wanted to learn more about you. I wanted to know what you do all day. Why you are always so busy. Why you are always gone.” She gazed up at him, seeing the hard set of his jaw. It was the wrong thing to say—a reminder of what she’d seen at the broch. But she wasn’t the only one to blame. “If you would ever tell me anything, I might not be forced to use other means to find out.”
“God’s wounds, Christina! This is not some kind of childish game—it’s dangerous. I’m doing this to protect you.”
Her eyes flared with anger and humiliation. “Then stop treating me like a child and tell me what is going on.” She grabbed his arm, looking up at him pleadingly. They were standing close. Close enough for her to reach up and touch him. To hold his rough cheek in her hand and feel the hard tic of his jaw under her thumb. “Tell me what you are trying to protect me from.”
They stared at each other in the candlelight, she reaching out, he retreating. A dance it seemed they were doomed to repeat time and time again.
Except this time he hesitated. For a moment she actually thought he might tell her. She could see it in his eyes.
But the force of his iron will was too strong, and he carefully detached his arm from her hold. She could feel the tension radiate from him in the hard flex of his shoulders, feel as he fought the natural attraction of their bodies and held himself stiffly away from her. “Stay out of it, Christina. No more ledgers, no more letters, no more following me, no more questions.”
She wanted to cry out with frustration. “Why do you have to be like this?”
He looked genuinely confused. “Like what?”
“Evasive. Recalcitrant. Never telling me anything. Why can’t you confide in me? Would it kill you to share your thoughts with me?”
His gaze hardened. “Nay, but it might kill others.”
The accusation stung. “I would never do anything to betray you. I hoped you’d know by now that you can trust me.”
“That’s not the way it works, Christina. This is real life, not some bard’s tale. Do you honestly think that after two months I should confide everything—even things that put other people’s lives in danger—simply because you are my wife? Even if I wanted to, it’s my duty as chief to keep my own counsel.”
He made her sound ridiculous—naïve. But not all of it was his duty. “Are you sure that isn’t just an excuse? Surely, not everything is of life-or-death importance to the clan.” She leaned against him, her breasts pressing to his chest. His dark, masculine scent washed over her. She remembered the rich, spicy taste of him, the silky, warm press of his mouth on hers. The deep, erotic sweep of his tongue. “What harm could come from—”
“Enough,” he said gruffly, holding her away from him. “You are my wife. You will obey me in this. I do not need to explain my reasons. Nor will you bend me to your will with your body.” His eyes darkened. “As enticing as it might be.”
Christina lurched back as if scalded. Was she doing that? She covered her mouth with her hand, shame washing over her. She was, albeit unknowingly. “I didn’t realize …”
He seemed to believe her. He heaved a heavy sigh. “I came to tell you that I’m leaving.”
