Page 57 of Highland Spy

“My obedience won me nothing. Not the husband and children I wanted, not the respect I worked so hard to obtain, not even their affection. Nothing.” She said the last word through gritted teeth. “I obeyed my brother and got nothing in return but rumors about why no one would wed me.”

The scalding resentment within her singed away all the embarrassment at her rejection she’d once felt. Now only raw, ugly fury took its place. “And after all that humiliation, after all those years of obedience, he spent my dowry and died, leaving me with nothing but debt and the scraps of my good name.”

Connor watched her with eyes so intent, it was as if he could see the soul she’d so passionately bared.

“Ariana.” His voice was soft now, not threateningly so, but velvety, affectionate. It worked into a deep, wounded part of her she’d shoved aside for so long she’d forgotten it existed.

Words caught in her throat, but she forced them out. “I thought it would be different here.”

She turned to go, but he caught her forearm in a firm yet gentle grip.

“It is different.” He turned her to face him and set both hands on her shoulders so she had nowhere to go. Immediately he pulled one hand off, from the side where she’d received the bruise from Sylvi. It had mostly healed already, but it was endearing to know he’d remembered.

He met her gaze. “The rules are to keep ye safe.”

“To protect the investment of your time and training?” It was a petty, childish thing to say, a final bitter note of scorn she wished she could recall once it left her lips.

She looked away, unable to meet the openness of his gaze. Her fury was now spent and the petulance she’d unleashed heated her with shame.

He stepped even closer, so his broad chest filled her vision. His léine lay open at the neck, revealing the muscular flesh beneath and a few scattered black hairs.

Though their proximity should have unsettled her, she found she could not move. Nor could she tear her gaze from the visible lines of his naked flesh, or stave off the ache of her fingers to stroke it.

“Ye couldna be more wrong.” The passion in his tone pulled her attention from his chest to his face.

He gazed into her eyes and she found herself drawn to the myriad flecks of green and black and gold in those hazel depths.

He leaned over her then, as if he might—

Ariana’s breath snagged in her dry throat.

As if he might kiss her.

• • •

Connor held Ariana still by the shoulders, but though her cheeks were still flushed with the effects of her ire, her body was no longer tense.

“Then if you’re not protecting your investment, what are you protecting?” she asked, an edge to her tone.

Her breath was sweet and mingled with her fresh, delicate scent.

He should turn from her now. He should walk away and keep his distance.

Yet he knew he could not.

“Ye,” he said. “I’m protecting ye. I care about ye, lass.”

Her lips parted with her surprise. “You do?”

“Aye. Too damn much.” His voice came out rough and hard. “I care.”

Her breathing came faster, evidenced by the repeated rapid swell of her breasts against the low-cut bodice.

Before he could let his thoughts circle around once more, he cupped the elegant line of her jaw in his palm.

Her eyes widened.

“Are you going to kiss me?” she whispered.