“Then I will not marry you.”
“What?” he cried incredulously. “You are bespelled.” His face distorted with rage. “Iwillkill him now!”
Rose caught him at the door, latching onto his arm. “No! Listen to me!”
He turned around, his jaw jutting with fury, and glared down at her.
“He is helping us. He believes someone is using witchcraft to kill my father, and he is trying to undo it.”
“He would know, the black-hearted wizard.”
Rose reined in her temper. “We need his help if my father is to live. I pray you, don’t do this to us. To me.”
He stared mutinously over her head.
“Consider it a—a wedding gift.”
His pale gaze fixed suspiciously on her. “Strathwick’s life means so much to you?”
Aye!But she didn’t dare admit such a thing. “There is nothing more important to me than healing my father.” When he still didn’t answer, she added, “I thought Alan MacDonell was your friend.”
He sighed, some of the tension relaxing from his broad shoulders. “Very well. There will be no blood spilled at Lochlaire. That is all I will promise, aye?”
Rose managed a hesitant smile. “My thanks.”
His gaze moved over her face. “I give you a man’s life. I can think of a more fitting thanks from my betrothed.”
Before Rose could ask him what he considered a more fitting thanks, he grabbed her, clasped her tightly against his chest, and kissed her. Rose clutched at hisshoulders, fighting for air as his tongue thrust into her mouth. His teeth collided with hers with a sharp, uncomfortableclick. Then it was over, and he set her away from him. She resisted the urge to wipe her mouth.
He gave her a self-satisfied grin.
Rose did not know what to say, so she gave him a wan smile. “Let me show you to your chambers.”
After depositing her much calmer betrothed in his chambers, she returned to her own. A sensation of unreality had descended on her. She needed fresh air, but the thought of the battlements made her chest tight and her belly flutter. That the memory of William’s touch and kiss could still affect her so, after how ill he’d used her, after all she’d learned this night, did not bode well for her. She’d gotten entangled with a scoundrel once before. She would not do so again—especially with her betrothed under the same roof.
She leaned against the closed door for several moments, trying to gather her wits about her again. Had William really killed Jamie’s father with witchcraft? It was too horrible to contemplate, and yet it made sense. If he could take sickness away, he could give it to others, too. He did not have to suffer. He chose to.
She pushed away from the door, her heart heavy. Sudden movement startled her. She turned quickly and peered into the gloom. Only the low fire in the fireplace illuminated her chamber. A figure stood in the shadows near her window.
“Who’s there?” she called.
William stepped forward, and her heart surged traitorously, angering her.
“What are you doing in my chambers?” she hissed, quickly latching the door lest someone walk in. “What can you be thinking?”
He crossed the room, bearing down on her relentlessly. “That you must have many questions and I’d rather you hear the answers from me than from someone else.”
Rose resisted the urge to flee; instead she backed away until she was flush against the door. “What care you what I think?” Her voiced dripped with bitterness.
“I care.” He stopped in front of her, staring down at her with such intensity that she could not hold his gaze.
His words inflamed her temper—and her desire. Her heart hammered. Memories of his mouth on hers, his hands beneath her skirt sent a flush over her skin, and shards of lust pierced her belly.
She slid along the wall, away from the door. “Get out.”
He followed, bracing a hand on the wall by her head to halt her escape. “No—we’re not finished, Rose.”
“Wearefinished—you made that clear earlier.” She tried to duck under his arm, but he blocked her with his body.
