Men who beat women were the same types who presently tried to subjugate the MacDonalds and deny the rightful king of Scotland.How could she believe him to be a man like that?Everything he had done in the past fortnight had been to protect her from the Campbells, regardless of whether she was a traitor or not!
Reade’s hand fell from the air to his side. But then, what reason had Blair to trust him? She knew little about him. His family, his mother and sister, aye, but of him? And his knowledge about her might fill his mother’s thimble. He hadn’t told her about Camden, or his raw fear that if she did know anything, the Campbells would kill her for it, unlike the MacDonalds who took her in and made her one of their own.
And because they didn’t know anything about the other, they didn’t trust each other. He didn’t trust her loyalties, and she couldn’t trust him not to harm her.
What a disaster of a marriage.
But that disaster was something that could be rectified.
CHAPTER TEN
And Reade decided rightthen to rectify it. The only way to do that was to open himself to her, no matter how much it rankled him, and hope she did the same.
It also meant putting his rage regarding Camden’s death at the feet of the Campbells and not on Blair.
That would be more difficult than he imagined, or so he thought. But ‘twas the right thing to do. Blair hadn’t been in the woods that fateful day. She’d been suffering her own indignations at the hands of her decrepit husband.
He did not trust himself to speak but lifted the heavy brocade coverlet in invitation to join him in bed. He lifted one eyebrow in question and was mildly surprised when she accepted his silent request. Yet Blair wrapped herself in her plaid and turned her back to him in bed, and he didn’t blame her.
Even though the night hadn’t ended well, they still slept in his large bed together, and that was something. Reade wasn’t sure what, butsomething.
When they woke in the morning, the sunlight caught in her hair and made the strands shimmer like copper. Her thick lashes rested above the delicate freckles scattered across her smooth cheeks, and it was all he could do not to stare at her. Not to stay in bed and hold her. Not to roll her over and sink his pulsing cock deep inside her.
Because even after their fight the night before, his cock still held court and demanded satisfaction. It was growing more difficult to deny his manhood when she was his wife, right there in bed with him!
In fact, his manhood had become more commanding, mind-numbingly so. The reminder of who she was and what she represented grew more and more faint as the demand of his desire coursed through his veins hotter than his own blood.
Now was as good a moment as any to start on his endeavor to open his heart and mind to her more. Her sleeping face was turned toward him, her chin tucked into the plaid. With a gentle movement of his finger, he followed the lines of her face, her hairline, her button-like nose, her full lips that were slightly parted as she breathed.
His finger was tracing the sharp curve of her jaw, when her eyes flew open, bright blue and afraid.
“Your beauty is stunning whilst ye sleep,” he said in a quiet voice to soothe her. Your lashes are so long, they nearly touch the freckles on your cheeks.”
Her pouting lips closed, and she remained quiet as her gaze remained riveted on him. His finger didn’t stop and caressed along her jaw to her chin, then back up to her ear.
“We’ve no’ had a good start. And we keep having missteps. Yet we are married, whether we want it or no’. So I have a proposition for ye.”
