“I didnae plan for us to have our second night so soon,” he grumbled. “But ye gave me nae choice.”
This man and his cursed plans! Everythin’ is a plan with him!
At least River seemed to have ruined whatever his plan was. That gave her some satisfaction, knowing that she could sabotage the plans that he so carefully made about the two of them.
“What was yer plan, then?” River asked as she sat on the couch, watching him stand there.
“Why did ye nae come to the Great Hall today?” Archer asked her instead of answering.
It was her turn to frown, confusion bubbling up inside her. “What do ye mean? I didnae ken I was invited.”
“Ye need to be invited to come to the Great Hall?”
Was that a trick question, River wondered? She had thought Archer’s invitation to the Great Hall had been a one-time thing, something that was just the result of her sending away the twomaids. She didn’t know she was expected to appear there every day.
“Aye,” she decided in the end. “Of course I need an invitation.”
For the first time since entering the room, Archer turned to face her. “Why would ye think that?”
River couldn’t help the scoff that escaped her. She shook her head and raised her gaze to the ceiling, high above her head.
“Seriously?” she asked in disbelief. “Well, ye may nae remember this, but ye never wanted me opinion or me input in anythin’. Ye didnae want me to be involved in things ye could take care of by yerself. Ye were perfectly clear about that on our weddin’ night.”
Archer remained silent for so long that River began to think he had left the room without her noticing. When she looked at him, though, she found him there, standing in the exact same spot and staring at the floor.
He seemed angry—angrier than River had seen him in the past.
“That wasnae very wise of me,” he said through gritted teeth.
Och...he isnae angry with me. He’s angry with himself.
It took River a few moments to realize this, but once she did, it was like a new side of Archer was suddenly illuminated beforeher. He didn’t blame her; he blamed himself, or rather the man he had once been—before the attack, before the memory loss, before he changed into someone so unrecognizable.
But that didn’t mean he could simply accuse her as he pleased!
“Nay,” River said through gritted teeth. “It wasnae. Ye always accuse me of things I daenae do!”
Suddenly, that raging look was directed at her, and for a brief moment, River found herself flinching back, despite her own fury.
“Always?” asked Archer. “Seriously?”
“Ye doubt it?” River asked. “How can ye doubt it when ye daenae remember anythin’?”
“It’s nae as if I do it on purpose!” Archer roared, and River saw the old Archer in him, the man she had married, emerging into the light. “Do ye think this is easy for me? Do ye think I enjoy rememberin’ almost naethin’ from me life?”
River didn’t have a response to that, but she did have her own piece to say. “Do ye think I enjoy bein’ the target of all yer frustrations? I’d much rather we didnae talk, just like we didnae talk before yer accident! Ye keep changin’ yer mind and ye expect me to ken what we’re thinkin’ without tellin’ me any of it! I cannae read yer mind, Archer…I daenae ken what ye want if ye willnae tell me.”
“I daenae ken what I want!” Archer snapped. River could see a small vein in his forehead jump to the beat of his heart, his anger so strong it was like a living thing between them. “Everyone is tellin’ me how I should act, what I should think…everyone wants me to be the man I used to be but I’m nae that man anymore. And I daenae ken who I am.”
In two steps, Archer approached her and took her face in his, hands holding her lightly. He was so close that River could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, the way the shades of brown danced under the candlelight. He was so close that she could almost feel the brush of his lips against hers as she stared up at him, a phantom touch that existed only in her imagination.
The heat in his gaze was more than mere anger. River recognized it for what it was—desire, pure and unadulterated, a craving so deep it frightened her.
“I think it’s time that ye forget about that man,” he said in a low, dangerous voice, barely a whisper. “I’m nae him.”
River didn’t know whether that was true. He was different, that much was obvious, but was he truly an entirely different man from the one she had known? River often saw signs of the Archer she had married in the Archer standing before her now, and so she doubted he was truly a different man. Besides, who was to say he would never remember his true self?
But in that moment, it was easy to forget all about that, to lose herself in the way he looked at her—with such unbridled hunger, with such need that it threatened to consume her whole, muchlike a raging fire. River wanted nothing more than to surrender herself to this, to him, to let him convince her, if only for a moment, that he had truly changed.
