“Aye,” he uttered, just as calm. “If ye want their blood on yer hands.”
“What?”
He folded his hand behind his back and took a step closer. “I said, ye can dance with other men if ye want their blood on yer hands.”
She laughed because disbelief was easier than fear. “You do not mean that.”
“Do I nae?”
“Yes, Logan. You are not going to kill men I dance with just because you see me as some ornament that no other person is allowed to touch.”
The silence between them was only coated by the tiniest thrum from the world outside his chambers.
He stepped closer, one pace that put his height over her in a way that made shadows dance along his jaw. “Do ye want to test me?”
Silence settled as the fire popped.
Logan lifted his hand and tucked a loose curl behind her ear.
“Don’t.”
“‘Tis a stray curl. Am I nae allowed to touch that as well?”
“You tell me. Do you plan to kill yourself and blame me for your murder as well?”
Logan laughed, a low sound that seemed to echo off the walls surrounding them. “Ye still believe that I am jesting, do ye not?”
“I do not believe. Iknowthat you are jesting.”
“Well, shall we put that to the test? Do ye want to go back to the hall and pick another man to dance with?”
Emma swallowed, words dying in her throat. Perhaps it was his voice or even the words themselves, but he had cut through her anger.
“Answer the question,wife.”
She could not look away from his mouth. The word had settled into her since the vows, and hearing it now made something steady and warm rise in her chest. “I…”
He leaned closer. “Ye what?”
“I do not,” she said, and heard the truth of it.
She did not want to test him. Not like this.
She stepped back to recover ground. “I am tired. I want to go to my room.”
“It is our wedding night.”
“I would not be tired if you were not leaving tomorrow.” The line landed before she could weigh it.
“This again,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I thought we settled it already.”
“If bysettledyou mean you spoke and I heard what came out of your mouth, then yes, we settled it.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are ye trying to control me? Is that what this is?”
The accusation stung because it touched a place she guarded. Her fight wavered as she held her breath, then let it go when he did not press the point.
“I am not trying to?—”
