Page 51 of The Highlander’s Iron Hold

CHAPTER TWELVE

That night, Colin found himself finishing his duties earlier than usual, his mind already turning toward the bedchamber and what awaited him there. The memory of the previous night lingered in his thoughts—the taste of Morag's lips, the way she'd felt in his arms, the trust she'd shown him when she'd shared his makeshift bed on the floor.

Ten days. The agreement was fer ten days, but after last night...

After the previous night, everything had changed. The way she'd kissed him back, the way she'd curled against his chest as they slept, had awakened something in him that went far deeper than their original arrangement. But even as anticipation quickened his pulse, guilt gnawed at him.

He knew the terms of the marriage contract—knew that the full dowry would only be delivered once the union was truly consummated. Every step closer to Morag's bed was a step closer to securing his clan's financial survival, and the knowledge sat like lead in his stomach.

Am I daeing this fer the clan or fer meself?

The question had been tormenting him since he'd woken with her in his arms.

Dae I want her in me bed because I need the gold, or because I'm half-mad with wantin’ her?

The truth was messier than he cared to admit. Yes, his clan needed the resources that marriage would bring. But after the night before—after holding her while she slept, after feeling her trust and vulnerability—the political necessity felt increasingly hollow compared to his genuine desire for her.

She deserves better than a husband who might be usin’ her but God help me, I want her.

Colin entered their bedchamber with deliberate calm, though his heart was beating faster than it should. The room felt different now, charged with the memory of their shared intimacy. He began his usual evening routine—removing his belt, setting aside his weapons—but instead of moving toward the corner where his bedroll waited, he remained near the bed.

Morag was at the washbasin, her hair loose around her shoulders as she prepared for sleep. Colin tried not to stare at the way the candlelight caught the golden strands, tried not to remember how soft that hair had felt in between his fingers the night before. When she glanced at him over her shoulder, there was a new awareness in her eyes, a flush to her cheeks that spoke of shared memories.

Ye're thinkin’ about last night too. I see how it affectin’ ye.

The realization sent heat coursing through his veins.

"What are ye daein’?" Morag whispered, as she noticed he wasn't preparing his usual sleeping arrangement. But there was something else there too—anticipation, perhaps, or hope.

"Getting’ ready tae sleep," Colin replied evenly, sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his boots. "In our bed."

"Colin… " she said softly, uncertainty flickering across her features.

Colin looked at her sharply. "Dae ye want me tae go back tae the floor?"

"Nay," she said quickly, then blushed at her own eagerness. "I mean... it's been ten days. We made a deal."

"Aye, we did." Colin stood slowly, crossing the small space between them. "But this isn't about the deal anymore, is it, Morag?"

The question hung between them, loaded with the weight of everything that had shifted between them. The night before had changed something fundamental in their relationship, and they both knew it.

"Nay," she whispered. "It's nae about the deal."

And once we're truly man and wife, the MacDuff gold will follow. The clan will be saved.

But looking at Morag's face, soft with memory and anticipation, Colin found himself hoping, knowing, that money wasn't his primary motivation anymore. That the way his pulse quickened when she was near, the way she'd trusted him with her vulnerability last night, meant more than any political alliance.

"Tell me these ten days have meant something," Colin said quietly, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. The words came from someplace deeper than political calculation, someplace that desperately needed to know her feelings were real. "Tell me last night meant somethin’ tae ye."

Please dinnae let this just be duty. Please let what I feel fer her be real.

Morag's eyes met his directly this time, no longer skittering away. "Last night meant so much tae me," she said simply, and the honesty in her voice made his chest tighten with emotion.

Colin smiled slowly, relief flooding through him. Whatever else this marriage might be, whatever political necessities had brought them together, there was something genuine growing between them. Something that had nothing to do with dowries or clan alliances.

"Then come here," he said softly, extending his hand to her.

When Morag moved toward him, there was no hesitation, no nervous energy. She placed her hand in his with quiet confidence, and when he drew her close, she went willingly into his arms.