Is it because I cannae sleep?
Evander stared at her for a long moment. Then he pushed up on his elbow, leaning over her. His eyes glittered in the moonlight. She could smell petrichor and the clean scent of sweat. His breath, sweet with minty—had he been chewing mint before bed?—tickled her cheek.
“Go to sleep,” he said quietly, his voice deeper than before.
Aye, a fine idea, if I could manage it.
“Why daenae ye answer me question?” she heard herself say.
He narrowed his eyes. “Ye want me to tell ye whether lasses get down on their knees for me? Well, ye would be surprised how often that happened. Before I met ye, of course.”
That last comment made her flinch.
“Oh, so I ruined yer life, is that it? I scared away all the women queuing up for yer company, did I nae?”
A muscle jumped in her jaw. “Ye are getting on me last nerve.”
“Daenae avoid the question.”
“Fine. Then I will say nay, ye didnaeruinme life. Ye saved me clan, just as ye saved yer own. That’s good enough for me.”
She folded her arms across her chest and tried not to think about the blood pounding in her ears and pulsing in other places in her body.
“Is that right? So good that ye couldnae even kiss yer bride on yer wedding day?”
The silence crackled. Outside, the moon sailed behind a cloud, cutting off the beam of light. Shadows slid over his face, obscuring her view of his eyes.
“Ye certainly seem to be fixated on this kiss,” he murmured, his voice raspy.
“I am nae?—”
“Ye have mentioned it often. So what is it then, lass? Ye want me to kiss ye?”
A flush bloomed in her cheeks. He wouldn’t be able to see her red face in the darkness, of course—or so she hoped—but she could certainly feel it. She swallowed thickly.
“N-Nay, of course nae!”
“Ye daenae sound very sure,” he breathed.
The bed creaked under his weight as he leaned forward. In the darkness, it was difficult to judge distances, so Skye gave a strangled yelp of surprise when she found his face only inches away from hers, the tips of their noses almost brushing.
“I think ye want our wedding-day kiss,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.
All of the moisture in her mouth disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She swallowed dryly and reached forward.
She meant to push him away, of course, to tell him that this was not appropriate and that even though they were wed, they weren’t wed inthatway.
Instead, her fingertips grazed his warm shoulders, his skin firm under the thin shirt he wore. Her palm flattened over the centre of his chest. His heart hammered under her touch, heat blooming. The ache in the pit of her stomach intensified.
Then the moon came out from behind the clouds, filling the room with a comparatively light glow.
“What is it ye want, lass?” Evander asked, his voice tight and carefully neutral.
Skye blinked, her breath stuttering in her throat. She pushed weakly at him, and he moved back. Hechoseto move back, however. She knew that. It wasn’t her pathetic push that had opened up space between them. He hadgivenher that space.
Before she knew what she was doing, she was scrambling, clawing her way out of the bed. The tangled sheets knotted around her limbs, tugging her back, but she stumbled free anyway, her feet slapping on the cold floorboards.
With a muffledwhoosh, the candle flared into light, and she turned to see Evander clambering off the bed, his face impassive.
