Page 90 of The Highlander’s Iron Hold

"They're just scratches," he said dismissively, but his breath hissed when she touched a particularly nasty gash along his ribs.

"Scratches don't bleed this much." Morag dipped a clean cloth in the warm water and began washing away the blood and grime. "How many men did ye fight tae reach me?"

"I didnae count."

"Colin."

He sighed, some of his legendary control cracking under her steady gaze. "A dozen, maybe more. I stopped keepin' track after the first few."

Morag's heart clenched as she imagined him fighting his way through Fraser's camp, outnumbered and alone, driven by nothing but desperate love. She worked in silence for several minutes, cleaning each wound with gentle care.

"And another four plus Fraser. Hold still, this one's deep," she said, examining the cut on his ribs. "It needs proper binding."

As she wrapped clean linen around his torso, her hands moving with surprising skill, Colin found himself watching her face. She was completely focused on her task, her brow furrowed with concentration, her touch infinitely gentle despite the gravity of his injuries.

"Where did ye learn tae tend wounds like this?" he asked.

"Me maither. She said a Highland woman never kens when she might need such skills." Morag's fingers traced carefully around a bruise on his shoulder. "Though I never imagined I'd be using them on me husband after he'd destroyed an army."

"I didnae destroy an army. I just killed their leader."

"And nearly died daeing it." Morag's voice caught slightly. "Colin, what if ye hadn't made it? What if Fraser had killed ye? I would have—" She stopped, unable to finish the thought.

"But I did make it," Colin said gently, catching her hands in his. "We both did. We're here, we're alive, we're together."

"Aye, but at what cost?" Morag's composure finally cracked, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Ye could have been killed because I was too proud and stubborn tae listen tae reason. Because I rode off like a spoiled child instead of staying safe like ye asked."

"Morag—"

"Nay, let me say this." She pulled her hands free and continued her ministrations, though her vision was blurred with tears. "I was wrong. About everything. About the dowry, about yer motives, about what our marriage meant. I let me hurt pride nearly destroy the best thing that ever happened tae me."

When she finished bandaging his wounds, he caught her face gently in his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Listen tae me, me love," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Ye were right tae be angry. I should have told ye about the dowry terms from the beginning. I should have trusted ye with the truth instead of trying tae protect ye from it."

"But ye were trying tae spare me feelings⁠—"

"I was being a coward," Colin interrupted firmly. "I was afraid that if ye kent the full extent of what I'd promised yer faither, ye'd think I married ye just fer the gold. And initially..." His voice cracked slightly. "… it was true."

Morag's eyes widened at his admission. "Colin..."

"I need ye tae understand something," he continued, his hands still framing her face. "When I first agreed tae the marriage, aye, it was about the alliance and the dowry. Me clan was desperate, and I was willing tae dae whatever it took tae save them. But the moment I saw ye—stubborn and fierce and beautiful—everything changed."

"Ye dinnae have tae say that⁠—"

"I dae" Colin's voice was firm, though she could see the vulnerability in his dark eyes. "Because I love ye, Morag Armstrong. Nae Lady MacDuff, nae a political prize, nae a means tae an end. Ye. The woman who argues with me, who challenges me, who throws dirks at me enemies and rides intae danger tae save me. I love ye more than me clan, more than me lands, more than me own life."

The simple words hit Morag with devastating force. She could see the truth of them written in every line of his face, hear it in the way his voice shook with emotion.

"I love ye too," she whispered, her own voice breaking. "I tried tae convince meself it was just attraction, just gratitude, but it's so much more than that. Ye're everything I never knew I wanted—strong enough tae protect me, but gentle enough tae let me be meself. Honorable enough tae risk everything fer what's right."

Colin pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. "Can ye fergive me? Fer the deception, fer nae trusting ye with the truth, fer being too proud tae admit I was falling in love with me own wife?"

"Only if ye can forgive me fer being too stubborn tae see what was right in front of me," Morag replied, her hands coming up to cover his. "Fer nearly destroying us both because I was afraid tae trust me own heart."

"There's naething tae forgive," Colin said firmly. "We're both learning how tae dae this—how tae be married, how tae love each other, how tae build something real together."

Morag felt something fundamental settle into place between them—not just desire or attraction, but deep, abiding love built on understanding and acceptance. They'd both made mistakes, both let fear and pride get in the way of what they could have together. But they'd also fought for each other when it mattered most.