Bride of Ice (The Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch #2) - Glynnis Campbell Page 0,76

rustle of the mattress.

Finally, in the wreckage of their passion, Colban broke the silence.

Lifting himself on one arm, he brushed the hair from her brow with the back of his fingers. When she opened her eyes, he was staring down at her with such fondness that she felt her throat close.

“Och, Hallie,” he sighed in regret, “I have a confession. I hate to tell ye, lass. But I fear I cannot marry ye for convenience.”

His words, at odds with his expression, instantly chilled her heart. She froze in shock as a dozen wretched thoughts drifted like snow into her tormented mind.

Was Colban breaking his word? Had he never intended to keep it? Did he not care about peace between their clans? Or was it something else? Had he found her lacking? God’s blood! Did he already have a wife?

Panic squeezed her lungs. God’s eyes, she’d given him her maidenhood.

“What do you mean?” she croaked.

He deflected her worry with a tender look. “I mean what I feel for ye is much more than an ‘understandin’.”

Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Or speak. The curses of hurt and betrayal died on her lips.

He smiled sheepishly. “I fear I’m in love with ye, lass.”

She blinked. He could have knocked her over with a feather.

But in love with her? How could he be in love with her? He hardly knew her.

The idea was preposterous. Wasn’t it?

Of course, she had to admit she felt a certain fondness for him as well. She admired his courage. Respected his loyalty. Appreciated his kindness.

Just the sight of him—standing at the window, hunkering by the fire, brandishing his claymore in battle, reclining in naked splendor in the bath—made her heart pound.

Even now she felt desire and affection for him filling her veins, like one of Isabel’s elixirs of love.

The words gushed out of her before she could stop them. “I fear I love you as well.”

Almost immediately she regretted her carelessness. Confessing her feelings was an irresponsible and unwise thing to do. With those words, the protective icy shell around her heart splintered, leaving her completely vulnerable.

Damn it. She owed her strength to that armor. It was what had always kept her calm. And safe. And separate.

It was also what had kept her alone.

The stark truth of that paralyzed her.

Until this moment, she didn’t realize just how alone she’d felt. And now, as Colban’s soft brown eyes melted her with adoration, she couldn’t imagine life without him.

She was in love with him. For better or worse, their hearts were forever entwined. And soon they would take the vows to prove it.

But for now she would rest, content for the moment to lie in his comforting arms, feeling his breath upon her brow, his chest rising and falling, his flesh melding with hers.

There would be time later to sort out her feelings.

She needed to close her eyes. Just for a wee bit. Just until she could recover from the remarkable adventure she’d just had.

Colban thought he was the luckiest man alive.

The most beautiful woman in all of Scotland had promised her hand in marriage, gifted him with her virginity, and declared her love for him.

The fact that she had fallen into a deep sleep almost instantly afterward wasn’t a reflection on his charm. Rather it was a testament to her comfort, her trust in him.

She could trust him. He was nothing if not loyal. He might not have the trappings of nobility. But he was a champion at heart. She could be confident of his love. Always.

It was with that promise that he too drifted off to slumber.

So at ease was he, dozing with the Valkyrie in his arms, he didn’t rouse again until the room was dark, the fire was cold, and the chill of midnight intruded upon their warm embrace.

His first thought upon waking was for her honor.

He had to get her back to her chamber.

Hallie could divulge the news of their betrothal to her clan in her own time. She didn’t need the help of mischievous wagging tongues.

Careful not to wake her, he rose and dressed quickly. He managed to slip her leine over her head, and she drowsily poked her arms into the sleeves.

Then he grabbed her kirtle and slippers and whisked her up into his arms to carry her. Avoiding the slick patches on the floor, he limped to the door and peered out.

No one was guarding the corridor. So he crept to the door of her chamber and gently pushed inward.

By the dim glow of firelight,

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