“Ye’re mad,” Ava whispered, but she didn’t step back. Didn’t look away. “Completely mad.”
“Tell me who hurt ye.” It wasn’t a request. It was a command, spoken in the voice of a laird who expected to be obeyed.
“Nay.”
“Tell me.”
“Nay!” Ava’s voice rose, her chest heaving. “Ye have nay right to demand that! Ye have nay right to any of it! I’m nae yers to command, nae yers to protect, nae yers at all!”
“Ye’re wrong.”
Noah stepped closer.
The tension between them crackled with something dangerous, something that made his pulse pound in his ears. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest and how her pupils dilated as she looked up at him.
Ava’s breath hitched—a sharp, audible intake that made him freeze.
Noah’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
He should step back. Should put distance between them before he did something they’d both regret. This woman had been hurt before, had run from someone who’d used their strength against her, and here he was, towering over her, using his size to?—
“I... I daenae understand.”
“I’ll make ye understand,” Noah growled, his voice dropping to something rough and raw.
His hand came up slowly, giving her time to pull away, to refuse, and cupped her jaw. Her skin was soft and warm beneath his calloused palm.
“I’ll make ye see that ye’re mine now. Mine to protect. Mine to defend. Mine.”
Ava’s eyes fluttered shut for just a heartbeat, and when they opened again, they burned with an intensity that matched the fire in his own blood.
“Then prove it,” she whispered.
Noah claimed her mouth.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t the sweet, careful kiss of courtship. It was rough, demanding, and possessive, with his mouth capturing hers with an intensity that even surprised him.
His other hand came up to tangle in her hair, pulling her closer, angling her head so he could deepen the kiss.
And Ava—fierce, stubborn, impossible Ava—kissed him back.
Her hands clenched in his shirt, not to push him away but to pull him closer, holding on as if he were the only steady thing in a world that had tilted sideways.
She made a sound, need or surrender, he couldn’t tell, and opened for him when his tongue traced the seam of her lips.
This was madness. He knew it was madness. But he couldn’t stop.
Ava was his. His to protect, his to keep safe, his to?—
What? What am I doin’?
With tremendous effort, Noah pulled back, breaking the kiss. They were both breathing hard, Ava’s face flushed, and her eyes glazed with shock.
“That...” she started, her voice shaking. “That was...”
“A mistake,” Noah finished, though the words tasted like lies. He released her, stepping back and trying to ignore how empty his hands felt. “I shouldnae have done that.”
“Nay,” Ava agreed faintly. “Ye shouldnae have.”
