Page 88 of The Splendor of Fire
He threw back the tiny trickle of whisky Isobel dripped in his cup and made an unsatisfied growl. “That was barely enough to wet my tongue.”
Running his fingers through his hair, he laid into her. “You trust me to throw you through the air, to catch you as you tumble. Why do you not want me to rescue you? Don’t all women need a man to protect them?”
She rolled her eyes at the comment.You don’t want to just protect me. You want to control me. You want me to be a perfect lady. To be quiet, sweet, decent, and submissive. You want me to depend on you.
Incredulity drenched his expression. “Those aren’t my commands, those are God’s.”
For a wife.You aren’t my husband, Léo. Get it through your head.
“Believe me, I know you’re not my wife.” His pointed tone found its mark like an arrow to a bullseye.
She rolled her eyes, mouth flattening.No, I am notThéa.I know you mourn for her. But you cannot make me into her to patch your broken heart. I’m me. I’m opinionated.
“I’ll say.”
I like to fly through the air, I like danger, I like feeling that I’m the one protecting others. I don’t want limits. I don’t want to be vulnerable. I don’t want to be swept away, I want to be strong enough to make my own way.
His jaw tightened. “Will we never stop this fighting? I thought we had something in Cràdh. But perhaps I was wrong. Maybe I don’t know you.”
She shrugged.No one knows me. They put words in my mouth, thoughts in my head, and tell me who they want me to be. I will never be Cara MacLean, content at home to weave and be lady of a clan. I will never be submissive Théa MacKinnon. I’m a warrior. I’m the one who decides to take the risk. I’m the one flying through the air.
Voice toned with the soft current of his native tongue, Léo dropped into a gentle purr. “Yes, you fly through the air, and I love that you do. But don’t you see that I am the one between you and the ground? My instincts are always watching for your safety and for any obstacle that gets in your way. I’m not trying to keep you from flying, I’m trying to keep you from falling. And I will never, ever let you hit the ground.”
The chains around her heart gave a tremendous rattle, but fear locked them tight.
Yet you’re also the man who kisses and regrets it, who asks for me to give my heart and crushes it when he receives it. And you and Ardis?—
“Let’s be clear on that right now, I have never?—”
I don’t care to hear it, Léo. You were taking her to your bed this night.
“I wasn’t! Will you listen? I was jealous!”
She puzzled.Jealous? Of what?
He growled with frustration, his words coming out in a mixture of French and Gaelic. “Of you and Niall. Of his hands on you…Ses baisers sur tes lèvres.I couldn’t stand it. I wanted…Je te voulais pour moi.”
Her mind picked out words she knew among his French but still couldn’t make sense of it.My lips?What do you mean—me for you?
Bursting to his feet, the chair behind him crashed to the floor as he leaned over her, his eyes full of fire, his words raw. “His lips onyou, his hands on you... I can’t stand it. I want you for myself, Moira.Iwant to be the one who kisses and touches you, no one else. I told Niall I wanted a woman because I wanted to hurt you as you’re hurting me. I’ve never spent more than five minutes alone with Ardis. She lied and said that we stayed together all night, and I’ve allowed it to continue so that I don’t go back to prison for something I didn’t do.”
You just kissed her.
He bellowed at her.“Tu es tellement frustrant!She kissed me. She. Kissed. ME. You’re the one pursuing Niall.”
She shot to her feet and stared back into his eyes, his nostrils flaring.I’ve only kissed Niall to help you. To. Help. YOU!
They stared at each other, deadlocked in anger.
Eyes intense, the crease above his eyebrow deepened as he stared her down. “Was I wrong?”
You’re wrong about a lot of things.
A punctuated sound of exasperation filled his throat and he tightened his fist, bringing it to his mouth. He closed his eyes, drew a breath, and spoke through his clenched teeth. “Was I wrong that there was something between us? Or is what I feel only one-sided? Is this passion I feel for you a folly?” He drew her into his hands, his face agonized. “Tell me, Moira. Tell me that you feel the same way. That you only want me. To hold you, to touch you, to kiss you, and to take you as my own. For over a year I’ve wanted nothing more than to take you away, to love you and care for you as you have for me.”
Cornered and afraid, heaviness thickened the hot air and she shed the plaid, waving her hands over her neck. Ignoring him, she snatched up the dishes, thrusting the uneaten cakes back in their basket, plunging the bowls and cups in soapy water and washing them, letting her annoyance out with the scrub brush.
He followed her, still full of fire. “Are you rage cleaning?”
