Page 64 of The Highlander’s Iron Hold

Against her will, Morag found herself melting into him, her hands fisting in his shirt as she kissed him back with equal fervor. Each Gaelic word fell from his lips like a caress, weakening her defenses even as her mind screamed at her to resist.

"A stór," he whispered, breaking the kiss only to trail his lips along her jaw—my treasure. The tender words made her gasp, her head falling back to give him better access to her throat.

Her body remembered his touch, craved it despite her mind's protests. The familiar taste of him, the way he held her like she was precious even in his anger, made her knees weak and her resolve crumble.

"Mo rún," Colin breathed against her ear—my secret, my beloved—and Morag felt herself trembling in his arms, caught between wanting to push him away and never letting him go.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Colin rested his forehead against hers. His eyes were dark with passion and something deeper, more desperate.

"Tell me ye feel naething," he said roughly, his voice thick with emotion. "Tell me what's between us is just gold and contracts, mo chridhe."

The endearment, spoken with such raw vulnerability, nearly broke her resolve entirely. For a heartbeat, she wavered, remembering how those same words had sounded in the darkness of their tent, whispered against her skin with such tender reverence.

Morag stared into his dark eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability there, the desperate need for her to believe him. For a moment, she wavered, remembering the tenderness in his touch, the way he'd whispered her name like a prayer.

But then reality crashed back over her like cold water. She took a step back.

"Me body may betray me feelings fer ye," she said quietly, her voice steady despite the tears threatening to fall. "But it daesnae take away the fact that ye were using me all along. I ken what an arranged marriage means, I came here with me eyes wide open. But what I cannae accept is the kindness, the passion, the way ye made me feel cherished—all the lying ye did just tae get me intae yer bed so ye could claim yer prize."

She took two more steps back, breaking his hold on her, and Colin's arms fell to his sides like he'd been struck.

"Morag… " But Colin's voice was a cold whisper.

"No," she said firmly, though her voice cracked slightly. "I need tae get away from ye. I need tae think."

But even as Morag turned to leave, another realization hit her like a blow to the chest. She spun back around, her face pale with understanding, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"Wait," she said, her voice deadly quiet. She stood with her back straight despite the tears still falling, her chin lifted in defiant pride. "The first night. Did ye make it seem like we'd... did ye tell everyone the marriage was consummated?"

Colin's face went ashen, the color draining from his cheeks as if she'd struck him. His hands fell limply to his sides. "Morag, stop this, Mo chridhe."

"Dinnae ye dare call me that! It was faked from the weddin’ night," she continued, her voice growing stronger with her fury. Her eyes blazed with hurt and betrayal as she took a step closer to him. "That’s why ye rushed the weddin’ and insisted I move tae yer chambers. Ye lied about what had happened between us. Because ye needed them tae think the marriage was real so ye could get yer precious gold delivered."

"I didnae lie about it, but aye, everyone assumed it and I never said anything tae the contrary," Colin said quietly, his shoulders sagging with defeat, his usual commanding posture crumbling under the weight of his guilt. "I did. But it wasn't just about the gold, Morag. I was trying tae protect ye from the expectations, from the pressure put on any new clan lady. I didnae want tae force ye intae daeing something ye werenae ready fer."

She staggered back a step, her hand pressed to her chest as if his words had physically wounded her. "How long?" she whispered; her voice barely audible. "How long have ye been planning this? Even what we did. At the tent, so everyone would ken fer themselves, so there would be nay doubt. It was all just part of yer plan."

Colin ran both hands through his hair, his movements agitated and desperate. "It started that way, aye. I won't lie tae ye anymore. But Morag, I’m telling ye that everythin’ changed."

Morag wrapped her arms around herself as if trying to hold the pieces of her heart together. "Ye must be so proud of yerself. The stubborn Highland lass finally succumbed tae the great Iron Laird's charms."

"Morag, ye clearly are not prepared tae believe anythin’ I say." Colin stepped toward her, his hand reaching out before dropping when she flinched away. His dark eyes were wild with desperation, his usual control completely shattered. "But believe this. Morag, I dae care about ye. Whatever this started as, I care fer ye now. More than I ever thought I’d care fer anyone."

"Care?" Morag's laugh was harsh and broken, the sound echoing off the stone walls around them. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but her stance remained proud and unyielding. "Ye dinnae even ken what it means tae care about someone. Ye are honest tae the people ye care about, Colin. It is buildin’ and protectin’ trust. It is nae manipulatin’ someone intae yer bed so ye can collect yer bride price."

"I was protecting ye from the ugliness of political marriage! Even if ye kenned from the start that it was all about and alliance between clans," Colin said desperately, his voice rising with emotion. His hands gestured helplessly between them. "If ye'd kent about the dowry terms, ye would have questioned every touch, every kiss. Ye would have wondered if it was real or just duty, and I couldnae bear the thought of ye looking at me with suspicion instead of trust."

"Like I'm wondering now?" Morag's voice cracked, her composure finally beginning to fracture. "At least then I would have had a choice. At least then I could have gone intae yer arms with me eyes open instead of like some naive fool who thought she was falling in love."

The word hung between them like a sword. Colin's eyes widened, hope flickering there like a dying flame, his whole body going rigid with desperate attention.

"But that's over now," she said firmly, dashing that hope with brutal efficiency. Her voice grew stronger, colder, as she rebuilt her defenses. "I'll never again wonder if yer touch is real or calculated. I'll never again have tae question whether yer words are genuine or just what ye think I want tae hear."

"Morag. Dinnae let us end this conversation like this. Give me a chance tae prove that what's between us is real, and that I can be the husband ye deserve."

"There's naething tae prove," she said, trying to push past him, her small hands ineffective against his solid chest. "Ye've shown me exactly who ye are."

Morag swallowed, willing her heart to stay strong. "I need tae get away from ye," Morag said, her voice breaking completely as she turned. Her skirts swirled around her ankles as she moved with determined steps. "I need tae get away from all of this."