Page 148 of The Laird's Masked Passion

His lips parted.

Elspeth continued before he could offer some careful cruelty disguised as protection. “I love the man who frightens half the Highlands and lets children climb upon him when he thinks nay one sees. I love the man who remembers widows, guards every road, and carries furniture because I asked fer a chest tae be moved.”

“Furniture,” he repeated faintly.

“Aye. Dinnae interrupt. This is already dreadful.”

Something almost human moved across his face. Elspeth’s eyes filled despite every effort.

“I love ye when ye are kind. I love ye when ye are impossible. I even love ye when ye hide behind duty because ye are too frightened tae say that anything matters.”

Colin’s expression closed. She had struck the wound.

Good. Let him feel one.

“But I willnae remain beside a man who wants me body and fears everything else I might give him,” she said. “I willnae spend me life begging tae be more than useful.”

She turned toward the door. Colin caught her wrist.

“Dinnae leave.” The command came rough and immediate.

Elspeth looked down at his hand. “Ye dinnae get tae order me tae stay.”

His grip loosened at once. But he did not release her.

“Please.”

She looked at him. Colin MacKenzie did not plead. The word seemed torn from somewhere pride had guarded badly.

“I love ye,” he confessed.

Elspeth forgot how to breathe. Colin’s face was hard, but there was nothing cold in it now. Whatever restraint he once possessed had cracked, leaving the fear beneath it exposed and furious.

“I love ye,” he repeated, as though the admission offended every principle by which he survived. “That is why I have tried tae keep distance between us. Because everyone I have loved has been taken, ruined, or used against me.” The words came low. “Me maither died beneath me faither’s cruelty. MenI trusted learned what I valued and placed blades against it. Every weakness became an invitation. Every affection became something another man might threaten.”

His expression broke, only enough for her to see the boy he had been, standing helpless before a cruelty he could not stop. Colin released her wrist only to cup her face between both hands.

“Elspeth.”

She ought to have remained angry. Shewasangry. But his thumbs trembled against her cheeks, and Colin MacKenzie was a man whose hands did not tremble before swords, death, or kings.

“God help me, I love ye more than I have sense enough tae endure.”

Her tears spilled. “That may be the first entirely convincing thing ye have said.”

His mouth found hers. The kiss was not gentle. It held too much anger for gentleness, too much fear, too many words delayed until both of them had begun to bleed beneath the silence. Elspeth caught his coat and pulled him closer. Colin kissed her as though the room were burning around them and neither intended to escape. His hand slid into her hair. Her back struck the edge of the table, sending council papers shifting to the floor. Neither looked down.

She bit his lower lip. He made a rough sound and drew her against him.

“Ye are still an insufferable tyrant,” she breathed against his mouth.

“Aye.”

“And I am still angry.”

“So am I.”

“At me?”