That he wanted her.
When Archer kissed her, his lips pressing firmly, passionately against her own until she had no choice but to melt like a candle in his arms, every other thought was banished from her mind. River held not him, her hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her to pull her close, her heart thudding with every passing second.
He tasted of whisky and his lips were soft, a little chapped from the wind. River had never been kissed before. Even on their wedding day, Archer hadn’t kissed her, but now it felt as if he was trying to make up for all the times he had refused her this intimacy.
By the time he pulled back, River was trying to catch her breath.
“Look at me,” he said firmly. “Look atme. The way I am now.”
River could only nod in response. It was as if her words had been stolen along with the air from her lungs.
Archer kissed her again, this time deepening the kiss, his tongue pressing past her lips to flick against hers. Her desire threatened to consume her; River was about to lose herself in her need forhim, to let him do as he pleased with her, but then she stopped herself.
She had to be strong; she couldn’t give in to this base desires, not when she didn’t even know hot to feel about this new version of Archer, who was a complete stranger to her—more so than the man she had married.
“Wait,” she said, pressing a hand on Archer’s chest to push him back. “I…I cannae do this.”
Archer stared at her in surprise, clearly at a loss for words. “What?”
“I cannae do this,” River repeated, more firmly this time. “Please leave.”
For a moment, Archer didn’t move, and River was certain he would try to fight back, to change her mind. But in the end, he only gave a single, firm nod and turned around, walking to the door.
There, he paused briefly, and River had half a mind to call him back, her body screaming for him, her desire so strong that she was surprised to see her mind could keep her body from moving, from flinging itself to him and trying to pull him back. But then Archer left, slamming the door behind him.
And River was left to stand there, alone, left to wonder if she had done the right thing.
10
Three days had passed. Three days since her husband had kissed her for the second time, and River couldn’t take her mind off the entire ordeal. Every day, she spent the majority of her time lost in her own thoughts, in her own little world, in a way she had never done before.
Up until then, she had made sure to keep her days filled with other things, with other people. She had made sure to spend all her time with the children, with Finlay, keeping busy to distract herself from the reality of her marriage and her position as a Lady of the Clan who had nothing of importance to do. But now, it was impossible to keep her thoughts from drifting back to Archer, no matter who she was with, no matter what she was doing.
Look at me,Archer had told her.The way I am now.
He had looked at her too, for what was probably the first time. That gaze, that sharp, piercing gaze had etched itself in her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his. Every timeshe remembered the heat of his lips, she was plunged once again in the depths of this newfound passion she had developed for him
And she didn’t know what to do with it.
“What’s the matter with ye?”
Finlay’s voice startled River out of her thoughts. She turned to look at him where he was leaning against the wall under the eastern awning, bathed in the midday light. He looked younger there, his graying hair shining in golden hues. Even the concern in his features wasn’t enough to age him, though it was palpable.
River hummed; a questioning, noncommittal sound. She didn’t know how to answer that question. Saying it was nothing would be a blatant lie and one that he would easily discover, but telling him the truth certainly wasn’t an option.
“I’m only...considerin’ things,” she said vaguely.
“What things?”
“Things.”
“What things?”
Finlay could be relentless, and in that moment, River understood he would not let it go.
River remained silent. If she gave him no response, he couldn’t claim she was lying to him. Giving him no response, though, didn’t mean that he would simply drop the matter.
Finlay approached River where she sat on a stone bench near a towering Scots pine, green like the emerald she wore around her neck. Arya and Colby were chasing each other nearby, in the gardens, rushing through the rosebushes and the blooming heathers, the fragrance of the buds sticking to their skin. If she was going to open up to him about this, now would be the time, but River didn’t have it in her to tell him the truth. If anything, that would make him worry even more.
