“Ye think scars are naught but marks on the flesh? These tell tales ye’re nae ready to hear.”
Her chin tilted up, stubbornness sparking in her brown eyes. “Then teach me, Laird McCallum. I’ll nae live in a house where secrets are kept from me.”
“Ye dinnae ken what yer defiance does to me.” That was the final crack in his control. With a growl deep in his throat, Declan’s hand shot out, gripping her waist and pulling her against him.
His lips crashed onto hers in a bruising kiss that stole her breath, fierce and unrelenting. For a moment, Isabelle stiffened, shocked by the force of it, but then her hands found his chest, and the world fell away.
The warmth of him consumed her senses, the scent of pine and smoke, the strength of his arms, the sound of his heartbeat thrumming against her palms. Her anger melted into something dangerous and thrilling, her body responding before her mind could catch up.
Her lips parted beneath his, and the kiss deepened, wild and desperate, as though both fought to win even here.
The taste of him, fierce and masculine, left her dizzy, trembling between outrage and desire.
When he finally tore his mouth from hers, they both stood panting, eyes locked in stunned silence.
Declan’s gaze dropped to her lips, reddened from his kiss, and a muscle jumped in his jaw.
“Dinna tempt me again, lass,” he rasped, voice thick with restraint. “Next time, I’ll nae stop so easy.”
Isabelle blinked, her voice barely above a whisper. “And why nae? Ye’re me husband, are ye nae?”
Declan’s eyes darkened like storm clouds rolling over the moor. “Aye, that I am,” he said, voice low and rough, “but I’m still a man, Isabelle. And there’s only so much a man can bear before he loses all sense.”
She lifted her chin, emboldened. “Then perhaps ye shouldna’ have kissed me so if ye cannae handle it.”
A faint smirk ghosted across his lips, humorless and dangerous. “Ye speak bold for a lass who trembled at the mere thought of being in this bedchamber.”
Isabelle’s heart leapt, but she stood her ground. “Maybe I trembled, aye, but that doesnae mean I’ll hide from ye forever.” She paused, her tone softening slightly. “Perhaps I’ve found a bit of courage since then.”
Declan arched a brow. “Courage or foolishness? Yesterday ye said ye werenae ready to consummate the marriage.”
Isabelle’s blush deepened, but she met his gaze squarely. “I’m still not ready,” she said honestly. “But that doesnae mean ye cannae kiss me.”
A dark growl rumbled from his chest, his eyes narrowing. “Ye think I can stop there, lass?” he murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper. “If I kiss ye again, it’ll lead to much more. Ye’d best mind what ye ask for.”
Her breath hitched, the heat in her stomach turning to something near panic. “Declan…” she began, her voice trembling slightly.
He looked down at her, every muscle tight with control. “I’ll warn ye only once,” he said hoarsely. “Ye keep teasing me like this, and I’ll nae be able to stop. I’m nae a saint, Isabelle.”
The words broke through her daze, and she stumbled back a step, her face burning as the realization of what had just passed between them hit her. “I, I didnae mean to, ” she stammered, clutching her nightshift.
Declan ran a hand through his hair, his breath still uneven. “Aye, I ken ye didna,” he said, his tone softer now. “But ye drive a hard line, lass. Fire and stubbornness—ye’ll be the death of me yet.”
Isabelle lowered her gaze, cheeks flushed crimson. “I dinna ken what came over me,” she whispered, her voice almost lost in the quiet of the chamber.
Declan lingered a moment longer, watching her with an expression she couldn’t read.
Is it part frustration, part longing?
He moved away from her and stood by the window, fastening the belt around his waist with sharp, efficient movements.
His tone was edged with something between amusement and disbelief. “I’d thought ye’d hate the very notion of me touchin’ ye,” he muttered, casting her a sidelong glance.
Isabelle blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness. “I dinna ken what ye mean,” she said softly, her fingers nervously twisting in her lap. “Ye make it sound as though I should hate ye.”
Declan gave a low scoff, pulling on his shirt. “Aye, and ye should. I near forced ye into this marriage, lass. Ye had no choice in the matter, and I’m nae blind to it.”
She tilted her head, her expression calm though her heart thudded at his words.
