For one brief moment, neither spoke. Then he gave that smirk again, with a dryness that might have been composure or self-defense.
“It is bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”
Ava leaned back against the door. “It might be even worse luck if he doesnae speak to her and she decides to run away.”
His eyebrows arched, and at that very moment, the air felt smaller and hotter.
Ava was suddenly mortifyingly aware of herself in the gown meant for him and the bright red heat in her cheeks. She had just stormed into his private chamber on the morning of their wedding like a woman half mad.
None of these facts made her retreat.
“I ken I shouldnae have come like this,” she allowed. “But ye have avoided me all week, and I am done letting ye hide as though that changes what ye are asking of me.”
His expression lost its trace of wryness. “Ava.”
“Nay.” She stepped closer before her courage could desert her. “Ye daenae get to look grave and expect that to silence me. From where I stand, yer silence has meant only one thing—that ye mean to take me into marriage while giving as little of yerself as possible.”
He watched her without interrupting, and that somehow made the words come harder and cleaner.
“Ye call it a marriage ofconvenience,” she continued, “but ye cannae call it that if it is convenient to only one of us.”
She saw from his stillness that her words had landed hard. She could see how they struck him, especially in the faint twitch of his mouth and the fact that for once he did not answer with some cold, practical sentence as he always had.
At last, he took a step closer, his gaze steady. “I may nae satisfy all of yer conditions, but I will meet most of them, if ye promise to honor mine as well.”
The relief that washed over her was so sudden, it nearly weakened her knees. It showed in her face before she could master it, because something in his tone had changed.
“All right.” A little breath of laughter escaped her before she could stop it. “That seems fair enough. Though after we have had our first bairn, I may nae need anyone else to keep me company. Ye must understand, me father spoiled his daughters.”
A smirk touched his mouth, real enough to startle her. “And ye want me to worship ye as well?”
A red hue crept up her face. Surely, he did not mean… He couldn’t possibly mean?—
“What, ye are suddenly at a loss for words?” He took another step closer, the distance between them too thin for a portrait to slide through.
Ava tried to smile and mask her nervousness, but it didn’t work. “Well, maybe nae worship me exactly…”
The falter at the end betrayed her. She heard it, and she knew he did as well. Something flickered across his face, and he closed the space between them.
All at once, the room felt too small to hold the two of them properly. Ava forgot whatever she had meant to say next.
His hand came up, slow enough that she could have moved away, and settled on the side of her neck. The touch was light, but the shock of his gesture shot through her like heat.
He leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed her lips.
“Ye daenae like being worshipped?” he asked.
“I daenae… think I…” she stuttered.
“I think that ye would find the opposite equally enjoyable, me Lady.”
Ava stared at him. Every thought she had brought into the room seemed to scatter at once. His hand was warm, and his body was near enough that she could feelhimagainst her. Her own breath had grown shallow.
“The opposite of worship?” She hated how breathless she sounded. “Do ye mean being ordered about?”
His thumb shifted once against her skin. “Ye would be surprised how…excitingit could be.”
The words settled low in her belly, and so did the look in his eyes.
