Page 39 of Beguiled By the Highlander
This marriage was meant to be. And once Isolde was over the shock of discovering who he was, he was certain she would see it that way, too. All he needed to do was be patient.
“Didn’t ye always say my memories would return when I least expected them to?”
“That was before I knew ye had come to Eigg under false pretenses.”
She was determined to believe the worst of him, and despite his vow to be patient, it grated. “Why would I use such subterfuge? We’re pledged to wed regardless. I’d never try and win yer favor through such low tactics.”
“We arenotbetrothed.” Her denial quivered in the fraught air between them. “An understanding is not the same as a binding contract.”
He sucked in a breath between his teeth before he said something he’d regret. He knew this was a shock for her. Hell, recovering his memories in one fell blow had shaken him, too.
But she was being damned unreasonable, and blaming him for things he’d had no hand in.
“Ten years ago, Lady Helga herself visited Dunstrunage Castle to negotiate this alliance. And ye know that’s true, since ye found that out the other night. And let me tell ye this.” Caution hovered. He should really keep his mouth shut, but her stubbornness irked. “I wasn’t happy at having my future dictated to me. But it was more than an understanding, Isolde. It’s a binding contract. Lady Helga made sure of it.”
She licked her lips, a nervous gesture, and he instantly regretted his harsh words. But then she straightened her spine and shook her head, as if that might help clear her mind.
“Aye. I cannot deny that. And I’m still... I still cannot quite fathom my grandmother’s actions. But now we’ve met,don’t ye see? We can make our own choices, Njor—William.” She swallowed as if the unfamiliar name unnerved her, and despite everything, a warm glow ignited deep inside at hearing her speak his God-given name. “If we’re both against this marriage, they cannot force us.”
He raked his gaze over her. She clutched her shawl about her and gave the impression of an aloof noblewoman with ice in her veins.
But he knew better. Unbidden, the vision of her in his bed last night invaded his mind, of how her glorious hair had spread across the pillows and how she’d gasped in pleasure as he’d all but made her his.
His body responded to the vivid recollection. So violently, a groan lodged in his throat. A damning thought thudded in his mind. If he’d known last night they were betrothed, would he have stopped when he had?
Stealthily, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but it made no difference. He was as hard as a damn rock, and the fact she appeared so adamant in wanting to terminate their betrothal added fuel to the fire scorching his blood.
He stepped closer to her, and she backed up against the door of the armory. His grin felt feral as he braced his fists on the door, either side of her face, entrapping her. They didn’t touch, but they didn’t need to. The flame that had sparked between them from the first time he’d looked into her eyes smoldered as hot as ever.
And then he spoke. “Who says I’m against this marriage?”
*
Isolde’s grip onher shawl tightened as Njord—William, how would she ever remember to call him that?—loomed ominouslyover her, imprisoning her.
Why had she been so foolish as to trap herself against the door? Now, instead of stalking off with a shred of dignity intact, the warmth from his body, which had nothing to do with the lantern he grasped in one fist, swirled around her like a sensual caress and she was once again falling under his mesmeric gaze.
No. She would not be fooled again by his honeyed words and—
Her tangled thoughts collided as his words finally penetrated. “Ye still want to go through with this marriage? Despite knowing how I feel about it?”
Lord help her. Howdidshe feel about it? Part of her wanted to grab her claymore and challenge him. To show him she was not simply a prize that could be taken without her consent.
Except she had already fought him, the Campbell she’d despised for the last ten years, and he hadn’t laughed at her or refused her challenge.
No. He’d bested her.
It hadn’t upset her that Njord’s skill had defeated her. But it burned like the pit of hell to know William Campbell’s had.
And as for the other part of her...no. There was no other part. She couldn’t trust anything that had happened between them this last week. It had all been a façade, nothing but a mockery, and she refused to torture herself by even thinking of it.
“Aye.” His voice dropped to a sensual rumble, and she tried, in vain, to ignore the desire that rippled through her at the sound. “Why wouldn’t I? Ye’re a beautiful woman, Isolde. And I’m committed to making ye mine.”
Heat flooded her face as disjointed echoes from the previous night flashed through her mind. Shame burned through her at all the things she’d whispered to him in the darkness.
Had he been silently laughing at her gullibility?
Something deep inside her breast shriveled at the notion.
