Page 115 of The Laird's Masked Passion
“I saw a man lose control because someone threatened tae murder his wife and destroy his people.”
“That daesnae excuse it.”
“Nay,” she agreed. “But neither daes it make ye yer faither.”
His eyes searched hers with an intensity that made her throat tighten.
“Yer faither hurt those weaker than himself because he enjoyed power over them,” she whispered. “Ye spend every hour using yer power tae stand between danger and everyone who belongs tae ye. They are nae the same.”
“Ye cannae ken that.”
“I ken ye carried me from a church while men tried tae kill ye. I ken ye took a blade across yer hand and an arrow through yer shoulder because danger came near me. I ken ye wouldnae touch me when I feared ye, even though every law and every man around us would have called it yer right.”
Colin’s breathing changed beneath her hand.
“Elspeth.”
“I ken ye,” she said softly. “Perhaps nae entirely, but enough.”
His hand rose to her face. He touched her cheek with such care that the tenderness of it hurt.
“Ye shouldnae be kind tae me.”
“Then it is fortunate I rarely dae as I should.”
His thumb moved beneath her eye, catching the tear she had not felt fall. She leaned into his palm. The motion seemed to undo something in him.
Colin bent his forehead to hers. For several breaths, neither spoke. The fire whispered behind them. His breath warmed her lips, and Elspeth felt the frailty of the moment, the way one careless word might return them both to armor.
“Ye told me once,” she whispered, “that when ye took me, I would ask ye.”
Every muscle in his body stilled. “Elspeth…”
“Ye said I… would want it.”
His eyes darkened, but he did not move closer. “Ye are hurt.”
“So are ye.”
“That isnae an argument in favor.”
Despite everything, her mouth curved. “I did warn ye that I had prepared several.”
His hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck.
“Tell me what ye are asking.”
Heat rose through her, but she held his gaze.
“I am asking ye tae make me yer wife in the way that matters.”
She placed her hand over his heart again.
“I am asking because… I want ye.”
He gazed into her eyes for a long moment and then he kissed her. There was no coldness in him then. His mouth claimed hers with a hunger sharpened by fear, relief, and everything he had denied. Yet even in that hunger, he was careful. One arm circled her waist above the wound, drawing her against him without pressing the injured place.
Elspeth kissed him back without confusion this time. She knew what she wanted and that knowledge made her bold.
