“Then tell me I’m wrong.” His eyes were burning. “Tell me ye daenae still believe it or think about it. That ye daenae still hear his voice every time somethin’ good happens to ye, tellin’ ye it willnae last. That ye’re nae standin’ here right now waitin’ for me to prove him right.”
Ava’s throat closed. She couldn’t.
“Aye,” Noah said, quiet and fierce. “That’s what I thought.”
His hands lifted to her shoulders, gently holding her in place. Something in his expression cracked open in a way she had never seen from him before.
“I want ye.” The words slipped out like they had been yanked from some place he hadn’t meant to open. “That’s what I should have said. Nae that ye’re worthy of bein’ cared for. I want ye. I’ve wanted ye since that first night in the cottage, and I’ve been tryin’ to talk meself out of it ever since, and I cannae.”
His grip on her shoulders tightened slightly. “So nae, it isnae in the past. And nae, it doesnae matter, except that someone made ye think ye’re less than what ye are, and I cannae...” His jaw worked. “I cannae stand it.”
He stepped closer, the heat of his body cutting through the night’s chill before he even touched her.
And then his mouth was on hers.
This kiss was different from the first one. That had been rough, driven by frustration and desire. This one was... more. Deeper.
His lips moved against hers with a tenderness that made her chest ache, one hand sliding up to cup her face while the other remained on her shoulder, anchoring her.
Ava gasped against his mouth, and Noah took advantage, deepening the kiss. His tongue swept against hers, and heat flooded through her body like wildfire.
Her hands came up to grip his shirt, holding on as her knees threatened to give out.
“Ye’re nae unwanted.”
A laugh had bubbled up before she could stop it, sharp and disbelieving.
“Prove it,”she snapped, expecting him to back down, to shrug it off with that infuriating half-smirk of his.
But he didn’t.
The wind carried the scent of heather from the moors, along with the faint mineral tang of the nearby river. She took a deep breath, the cool air filling her lungs and steadying her. Noah looked at her, his shadow sharp against the starlight, and she realized just how truly alone they were.
His hands rested on her hips, his fingers splaying wide and possessive as he pulled her close. The hard planes of his chest pressed against her softness, and she gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders—not to push him away, but to steady herself.
His breath was warm against her temple, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he spoke.
“Ye’re nae unwanted, lass,” He repeated. “Nae at all.”
The words sent a shiver down her spine, but it wasn’t the cold. It was the way he said it, low, rough, like a vow.
His hands moved upward, feeling the dip of her waist before slipping under her cloak. The wool was heavy, but his touch was gentle, sweeping over the fabric of her gown to find the laces that tied it.
She should have stopped him. Should have laughed it off, called him a fool, stormed back inside. But her body betrayed her, arching into his touch as his fingers worked the ties loose, slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world.
The gown parted, and the cool night air rushed over her exposed skin. She bit her lip to suppress a gasp, her nipples tightening under the sudden exposure, with the thin shift below offering little cover.
Noah’s breath hitched, his gaze darkening as it dropped, drinking her in.
“Noah—”His name spilled from her lips, half-protest, half-plea. “What are ye doin’?”
She already knew. How she knew. But she needed to hear him say it.
His fingers stilled, the laces half-unraveled, and the gown sagged open to show the swell of her breasts.
“Provin’ it.”His voice was steady, sure, as his hands resumed their work, tugging the fabric wider.
The shift followed, the neckline dipping low enough for the night air to kiss her bare skin, raising goosebumps in its wake.
