"The burden?" he snapped, interrupting her and flinging a glare at her. "I ken it." He rose to his feet and stared into the fire as if he could no longer tolerate the sight of her.
Tears pricked her eyes. "I'm sorry I've hurt and angered you. I ken you will never forgive me—I don't deserve your forgiveness, in truth—but I wanted you to know that I regret everything. I wanted to see you, to apologize in person and let you know my vision has returned."
"And now that it has, all has changed, aye?"
She frowned, not knowing how to answer that surly question. Of course, everything had changed. She could now be an able and suitable wife for him—if his clan approved of her—but he did not seem inclined to want to hear the truth. Would it only provoke him further?
"Now you wish to accept my proposal of marriage?" he clarified, his incensed gaze pinning her to the spot.
Even though her feelings were crushed and fear consumed her, because he could easily reject her now, she drew on some inner strength and nodded. "Aye."
He blew out a breath and turned angrily aside. "God forbid, but what if you lose your sight again?"
She froze and closed her eyes, imagining the horror and disappointment of such a thing. She did not want to go back into that dark world.
"You would leave me," Colin rasped, and the raw pain in his voice shredded her soul. He turned away to pour another dram of whisky.
Would she do what he said? Nay, she couldn't. Now that she had experienced what it was like to live without him in her life—though it had only been a fortnight—she did not ever want to be without him again.
"Nay, I would never leave." She took two steps toward him, but forced herself to stop. She wanted to grab onto him and make him feel the love she held for him.
After downing the whisky, he set the glass on the side table and studied her with a critical eye. "How can you be so sure? What would be different from before?"
"Because I realize now… how much I love you."
"You said that before, while refusing to marry me. Love was not enough for you."
"'Twas not that."
"What then?"
His sharp words cut to the bone, and she felt again as if she were lost in the dark, for she could not see her way out of these entangled emotions. "I was daft before, back at Bearach, and I ken I deserve your hatred."
"I don't hate you, Kristina," he growled, sounding very much like he did.
She closed her eyes, and the tears she'd been holding back tumbled down her cheeks.
Without warning, he dragged her to him and kissed her. She gasped in shock as the passion exploded. Joy and arousal spread through her like wildfire in a dry forest, and she locked her arms around his neck. He would forgive her; he had to. She didn't want to exist without him, without his consuming kisses, without his possessive embrace.
Colin could not get enough of Kristina's delectable mouth. Damnation, how he'd missed her since he'd left Bearach. His heart hammered with excitement, for she fired up his soul as no other woman ever had.
"I could never hate you," he whispered against her lips. Nay, indeed, he loved her. Wanted her. Needed her. But when he thought about the possibility of her leaving him if her blindness returned… he would not be able to endure it. If she left him, she would take his heart and soul with her. If she had rejected him once so easily, regardless of the reason, she could do it again.
He pressed his forehead against hers. "I don't know if I can trust you."
She nodded. "I deserve that," she whispered. Her blue eyes—focused, aware, and filled with tears—cut into his soul. "But I want you to know, Colin… I love you and I always will." She turned and fled the room.
"Kristina," he said, but she was already gone. The tears streaming down her cheeks had gutted him. Did she truly love him, or was she only besotted in a very fleeting way? Why had love not been enough reason for her to marry him before, but now it was?
His heart ached with the love he felt for her. But if he believed her, if he trusted her, and she pulled the rug from beneath his feet again, he did not know how he could survive it.
Something deep inside his soul urged him to go after her, but an equally strong feeling froze his feet to the spot. He knew what it was—fear. He was not proud that he was afraid a woman would crush his spirit again.
He stepped out into the corridor, yearning to go to her door and knock. If he did, that would be the same as saying he wanted to marry her. Unable to do that as of yet, he halted.
'Twas true he craved her with every thread that wove through his soul, but he was pulled strongly in two directions. Bypassing her door, he headed toward his own room, the one he'd used since he was a lad.
As he neared the laird's chamber, it seemed as if someone was watching him. He halted and frowned, wondering if 'twas his da, paying him a visit in spirit. He shook his head at the daft thought, then continued on his way.
