The intensity in her eyes relaxed slightly, and she seemed to breathe for the first time since he’d entered the prison cell.
“I am relieved,” she said. “I realize, of course, that you had every right to fight him to the death after what he did to you. So if your answer had been different, I could not have blamed you. But I am pleased. Thank you for sparing him. I am…” She paused and her gaze dropped to the floor.
“You are what, lass?”
Say it, dammit! Say again that you were innocent in all of this! That you never stopped caring for me. And look me in the eye when you say it!
But she continued to look at the floor. “I am grateful.”
“Grateful?” He moved closer to her as his blood began to simmer. “Is that all? Do you have nothing else to say? You gave me poisoned wine, and I’m lucky to be alive. I should be beating you to a pulp right now. It’s what most husbands would do in my position.” He hesitated a moment, then began to pace back and forth in front of her. “You said in the bailey that you didn’t know it was poisoned, and that they were using you. Is that true? And if you tell me it is, how can I ever know for sure?”
At last she looked up and regarded him with eyes as wide as saucers. All the color had drained out of her face. Her lips were parted. Her chest was heaving.
“You’ll just have to trust me,” she plainly said.
“Trustyou?” He was finding it difficult to think straight. His emotions were rising up like an ocean tide and he wanted to hit something. Or walk out and never come back.
“Aye.” She shrugged, as if to suggest there was no other answer.
“You think it’s that simple?”
“Aye. You follow your heart, Angus. I know you never believed you had one when you first came here, but I know that you do. I may not want my brother dead, but my loyalty lies withyou.It always has. I knew nothing of this plot. It was my mother who orchestrated it, and she kept me in the dark the entire time. And Lord knows, it was easy for her to do. I was so infatuated with you, my head was in the clouds.”
“As was mine,” he said. “And I paid dearly for it.”
They stared at each other until he couldn’t take it any longer. He was filled with such rage and frustration over the confusing mix of emotions flooding through him. On one hand, he wished he’d never met this woman—for she had knocked him onto his back. He had lost the steely edge of himself that made him an effective warrior. He had been set up and caught off guard by his enemies, and lost his castle as a result.
On the other hand, he was desperate to know if he could simply trust Gwendolen, with no hard proof, just her word. He certainly wanted to, and he thought he’d be able to recognize the truth—or perhaps the deceit—in her eyes, but it was not that simple, and he was afraid to trust his heart.
All he knew was what he yearned for—which was to hold her in his arms and claim her again. To force everything to bend to his will.
That was the kind of man he was, he supposed. He took what he wanted by force. He always had. It was how he had won her in the first place, wasn’t it?
Wasn’t it?
Unable to think anymore, he closed the distance between them and pressed his mouth to hers in a fierce kiss that roused his body and lit a fire in his loins. He wanted to bed her now, to possess and conquer her, and yet there was still a part of him that ached and pined for what they’d had before, when politics and deception had had no part in it, when everything had been tender and joyful.
“Oh, Angus,” she sighed. “Do you believe me now? Do you believe that I played no part in this?”
No, he wasn’t ready to believe it. Not yet. But in this sweltering instant, all he cared about was holding her. He had been away from her too long, and he needed her now. For some reason, he needed this, and only this.
He pushed her up against the wall and cupped her breast in his hand while he kissed her hungrily. She slid a hand down over his tartan and lifted his kilt, then massaged his privates with her warm, roving hands.
“Make love to me,” she whispered, as she kissed his throat and chest.
Of course, he wanted to, but he wasn’t thinking with his head or his heart. He was completely, mindlessly seduced by desire, and was secretly hoping that sex would give him the answer he required.
Then all at once, his hands were cupping her shoulders and he was taking a disconcerted step back. “Nay,” he said.
“Why not?” She looked stricken.
“Because I still don’t know for sure, lass, and this won’t help.”
A rush of anger skirted across her face. Or maybe it was disappointment.
“If it’s solid, irrefutable proof that you need,” she said, “you may have it soon enough.”
“How?”
