The Chief (Highland Guard #1)(89)

They stared at each other in the candlelight, she reaching out, he retreating. A dance it seemed they were doomed to repeat time and time again.

Except this time he hesitated. For a moment she actually thought he might tell her. She could see it in his eyes.

But the force of his iron will was too strong, and he carefully detached his arm from her hold. She could feel the tension radiate from him in the hard flex of his shoulders, feel as he fought the natural attraction of their bodies and held himself stiffly away from her. “Stay out of it, Christina. No more ledgers, no more letters, no more following me, no more questions.”

She wanted to cry out with frustration. “Why do you have to be like this?”

He looked genuinely confused. “Like what?”

“Evasive. Recalcitrant. Never telling me anything. Why can’t you confide in me? Would it kill you to share your thoughts with me?”

His gaze hardened. “Nay, but it might kill others.”

The accusation stung. “I would never do anything to betray you. I hoped you’d know by now that you can trust me.”

“That’s not the way it works, Christina. This is real life, not some bard’s tale. Do you honestly think that after two months I should confide everything—even things that put other people’s lives in danger—simply because you are my wife? Even if I wanted to, it’s my duty as chief to keep my own counsel.”

He made her sound ridiculous—naïve. But not all of it was his duty. “Are you sure that isn’t just an excuse? Surely, not everything is of life-or-death importance to the clan.” She leaned against him, her br**sts pressing to his chest. His dark, masculine scent washed over her. She remembered the rich, spicy taste of him, the silky, warm press of his mouth on hers. The deep, erotic sweep of his tongue. “What harm could come from—”

“Enough,” he said gruffly, holding her away from him. “You are my wife. You will obey me in this. I do not need to explain my reasons. Nor will you bend me to your will with your body.” His eyes darkened. “As enticing as it might be.”

Christina lurched back as if scalded. Was she doing that? She covered her mouth with her hand, shame washing over her. She was, albeit unknowingly. “I didn’t realize …”

He seemed to believe her. He heaved a heavy sigh. “I came to tell you that I’m leaving.”

She gasped. “Leaving? But you’ve only just returned.”

“I’ll be back by Yule.”

Disappointment wrenched inside her. “But that’s two weeks.” It would feel like forever. “Where—” She stopped herself, looking into his shuttered gaze. Don’t bother, she thought, knowing he wouldn’t tell her anyway. Instead she said, “But your brother, he’s just arrived. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were twins.”

“I didn’t think it would matter.” His mouth hardened. “Besides, Torquil is leaving tomorrow.”

Her eyes widened. “But why?”

He gave her a hard look, his eyes unreadable. “I sent him away.”

“Whatever for?”

It was clear he didn’t wish to explain. “For abducting his bride and almost causing a war.”

“But they are in love. Anyone can see that. If you’d only meet Meg—”

“I did. Their feelings make no difference.”

“No difference?” What was wrong with him? This was his brother. His twin brother. How could his happiness not matter? “How can you be so cold and unfeeling?”

He is cold.

Nay. She refused to believe she had imagined what she’d felt before. He might seem like a hard, ruthless warlord on the outside, but there was more to him than that. He was capable of love; she just had to show him how to open his heart.

Her accusation was not without effect. His jaw clenched and the tic pulsed ominously. “Because I have to be. Hundreds of people are counting on me to protect them—to make decisions for the good of the clan. What my brother did could have caused a war that would have killed tens—perhaps dozens—of my people. If that is ‘cold,’ so be it.”

Christina twisted her hands, feeling horrible. She’d never thought of it like that. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. Her surprise had turned into a disaster. “Please, I’m sorry. I was only trying to help. I promise I won’t interfere anymore. But don’t leave like this.” A tear escaped the corner of her eye. “Can’t you just stay the night?”

The intensity of his gaze took her aback. He was waging some kind of battle, though she didn’t know what. “I can’t,” he said fiercely.

No explanation. No tenderness. Nothing. She gave him a long, searching look, seeking any sign of weakness. It was futile. She dropped her gaze to the floor, misery washing over her. “I see. Until you return, then.”

God keep you safe.

He took a step toward the door, and then spun around with a crude oath she’d heard from him once before. Before she realized what was happening, he had her in his arms, pressed against the steely shield of his chest, his mouth covering hers in a hard, demanding kiss. A kiss that made her heart pound and stomach flip. A kiss that left her breathless.

A kiss that was over much too soon.

With a groan that was more of a growl, he wrenched away. Their eyes met, and for a moment she caught a glimpse of the tenderness she’d been desperate to see. Then, without another word, he was gone.