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“Of course. Another betrayal, just when I thought ye were different.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Well, what did you expect?” she said. “You married me and promised me freedom. And yet you treat me like a prisoner. Because I am a prisoner to you, aren’t I? Nothing but an enemy you feel obliged to be courteous to. You question my every step. If you treated me like an equal, like your real wife—”

She was flushed and bright-eyed, and her mouth was as red as late-autumn raspberries. Her hair was disheveled, her dress askew—he let his eyes travel over the curves of her breasts, down to her thin waist and round hips.

What was wrong with him? He still lusted after the woman who’d just betrayed his trust.

He must have lost his mind the minute he’d seen her in those barracks.

He suddenly became aware of the large bed, and the furs that lay on it, and the warmth of the fireplace. The image of her lying naked on those furs, the sensation of skin gliding against skin as he covered her body with his own, the taste of her mouth, her voice calling his name with pleasure.

Not anger. Not disappointment. Not hurt.

But pleasure—and affection.

Craig shook his head and walked towards the fireplace. He turned his back to her and put his hand on the stone, watching the flames dancing, trying to burn those images from his head.

“Ye fooled me,” he said. “What else did ye lie about, Amy?”

“I lie because I’m afraid of what you will do to me. I lie because I’m afraid you’ll never let me go. I lie because… Do you think I don’t want to tell you everything? But you’re not exactly the most compassionate person, either. Had you made sure I had nothing to be afraid of…”

He turned to her. “But ye should be afraid, Amy. Not of me. But of what will happen with yer family. We’re at war. And ye’re on the other side of it.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled. “What if I’m not?”

“What are ye talking about?”

“What if I don’t want to be your enemy?”

He frowned. “Then ye’d have to prove it.”

She shook her head. “It’s really hard to prove anything when you’re constantly like a hedgehog, all bristled up and ready to prick with your quills. You command me all the time. I’m not allowed to leave the castle, and even within its walls, I can’t go where I want. You don’t miss a chance to point out I’m your enemy.”

Hot blood hit his skin. “But how can I stop treating ye like an enemy when ye do shite like that?” He gestured at the door. “Just when I’d started trusting ye, ye tricked my men and tried to sneak out of the castle!”

She shook her head. “Well, that’s a chicken and an egg situation, don’t you think?”

“A what?”

“The eternal question of who was first, the egg or the chicken. You can’t trust me because I’m a MacDoguall, so you treat me like a prisoner. I try to run away because you treat me like a prisoner.”

Was he again losing his mind, or was there a grain of truth in her words?

“What do ye suggest?” he asked.

“I suggest we start anew. How about, we stop for a moment. We do something nice. Forget what our names are and just spend time together, as…”

She stopped, opening and closing her mouth, apparently unable to find the words.

“As husband and wife?” Craig suggested.

His eyes darted to the bed. That was how a husband and wife spent time together without remembering their names. She followed his gaze, and her cheeks blazed brighter than the rising sun.

“That’s not what I mean!” she cried.

“But I must tell ye, lass,” he said, his voice raspy, and approached her. “If ye want that, I am happy to oblige. I told ye from the beginning.”