Eva met his gaze and replied, “I never thought it would be. I will obey only when I agree with what I’m being asked to do. Ifthat is nae enough for ye,” she said plainly, “then ye should look elsewhere for a bride.”
Connor felt heat surge through him, anger and admiration tangling until he could no longer tell them apart. He paced a step away and then back again, jaw tight as he argued.
“A laird cannae have a wife who challenges him at every turn.”
Eva countered, “I willnae become a shadow to soothe a man’s pride.”
The air between them crackled, thick with challenge and something far more dangerous…fiery lust.
Their voices rose and fell, clashing like steel, each refusing to give ground.
Connor accused her, “Ye are a lass built of stubbornness.”
“And ye're mistakin’ authority for strength,” she said.
He had never known a woman to look at him so, unafraid and unbowed. The realization stirred something deep and feral within him. The more she stood her ground, the more his pulse thundered.
Desire curled hot and insistent in his gut, threading itself through his fury. He had taken many women in his life, but nonehad ever dared him like this. It unsettled him, and it drew him to her all the same.
He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her as his voice dropped to a low growl. “Ye test me patience, and tempt fate with every defiant word, lass.”
Eva did not retreat, though her breath hitched and her eyes darkened.
“I willnae be bullied into submission.”
“I’ll make ye submit, lass.”
Connor seized her, one hand firm at her waist, the other cradling her jaw as he pulled her against him. His mouth crashed down on hers, rough and claiming, driven by a hunger he no longer cared to restrain. The kiss was fierce, demanding, and it stole the breath from her lungs.
Eva gasped against him. His lips moved over hers with bruising insistence, tasting, testing. He meant to prove a point.
I am yer Laird and ye will obey.
Connor felt her soften despite herself, felt the way her body fit against his like it had always belonged there. The knowledge fed the fire raging through him.
He deepened the kiss, pouring every unspoken want into it. Desire roared through him, sharp and urgent, making his blood sing. He wanted her defiance and her fire, wanted the woman who dared to stand before him and say no. The wanting was nearly unbearable.
Her hands came up, first to his chest, then fisting in his shirt as if she could not decide whether to push him away or pull him closer. Connor groaned low in his throat, the sound torn from him before he could stop it. He kissed her harder, slower, savoring the way she responded. Every breath she took seemed to echo inside him.
He was keenly aware of her warmth, her scent, the way she trembled beneath his touch. It drove him mad with need, with the urge to claim and be claimed in return. His restraint thinned to a fragile thread.
Eva broke the kiss only long enough to draw breath, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.
In a shaken voice, she said, “Ye cannae win me this way.”
Connor rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard, his hands still at her waist.
“I’ve never wanted a woman more.”
The truth of it startled him with its force. He had intended to frighten her into yielding, yet all he had done was prove howdeeply she affected him. The thought unsettled him as much as it thrilled him. He realized, dimly, that this was no simple battle of wills.
His lips brushed her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, softer now but no less charged. The kiss had awakened something neither of them could ignore. Connor felt the moment teeter, poised on the edge of something irreversible. It was clear that stopping would take far more strength than continuing.
Connor caught her face in his hands, his breath uneven, and said low, “Ye’ve nay notion what ye do to me, lass.”
Eva’s voice wavered as she answered, “Daenae look at me like that, Connor, or I’ll forget how to stand.”
He huffed a rough laugh against her lips and murmured, “I’d rather ye forgot, if I’m honest.”
