Wager with a Warrior - Emma Prince Page 0,52
to life, slammed into him like a punch to the chest.
Involuntarily, his eyes swept lower, devouring the sight of her. She wore only a robe belted over a chemise, the thin white linen peeking out beneath the heavier ruby-red brocade.
Though all was quiet, her gaze darted nervously down the hallway.
“May I come in?”
Gregor blinked. “Aye.” He stepped aside, and she hastily moved into the chamber. As he swung the door closed behind her, he tried to take hold of his scrambled wits.
“What are ye doing here?”
She looked up at him, one corner of her mouth hitching in a hesitant smile.
“Isnae it obvious?”
Nay. He couldn’t believe…wouldn’t let himself hope…
“Birdie.” He forced the words that must be said through gritted teeth. “We cannae.”
Her brows pinched at his terse refusal. “I am no’ a fool. I ken this willnae change things come dawn. But this is what I want.”
“Ye cannae mean that. Ye cannae understand what this will do.”
“I’m no’ a bairn, Gregor. I ken verra well what I am doing.”
“And what of the consequences? What of the alliance, and Cormack?”
“Cormack will be Laird of the Gunns one day,” she replied. “He kens—mayhap even better than I—that what we are doing with this marriage alliance is far bigger than either of us. Even if I dinnae come to him a virgin, he will accept me, and this treaty, for the good of his clan. Just as I will.”
Gregor grunted. Reluctantly, he admitted to himself that she had a point. If the Gunn lad was foolish enough to kick up a fuss, he would be a great idiot indeed—and a man to whom Birdie should never be saddled. If he denied her, she was better off without him, alliance be damned.
“I willnae publicly shame him or flaunt what I’ve done,” she continued. “I will be a dutiful and loyal wife once we are wed. But tonight, I am still free.”
She took a step closer to him, and his skin nigh vibrated in response. Somehow, he managed to remain rooted, his hands balled at his sides, but damn if he wasn’t a single heartbeat from hauling her into his arms and claiming everything she offered.
“I will devote the rest of my life to my duty come the morrow,” she murmured, her gaze tracing over his bare chest. “But right now, in this moment, I wish to choose my own happiness. Put myself first for once. Do ye remember when ye asked me in this verra chamber who looks after me?”
He could only offer a nod, so enthralled was he by her nearness.
“Well, this is me, looking after myself.”
Her hand rose slowly between them. She placed it on his wildly beating heart.
“Tonight, I want ye. I choose ye, and only ye, Gregor MacLeod.”
God help me.
Even as he felt the last of his willpower unraveling, he grasped for one final thread. It was his single remaining chance to save them both from crossing a line they couldn’t retread.
“Let me go, Birdie. I cannae be yer hero. I cannae be yer gallant knight, riding in to save ye from this mess.”
Her gaze was unwavering, holding him captive in a spiral of bottomless green.
“I dinnae need ye to save me. Just love me, if only for tonight.”
And just like that, the last of his control seared to dust.
In one step, he crushed her to him, lifting her clear off her feet.
“I already do.”
Then he was kissing her, and naught else mattered.
Chapter Nineteen
The air rushed from Birdie’s lungs as Gregor swept her off her feet. Even before the breath had left her, his mouth covered hers in a desperate kiss.
He didn’t waste a single step. Instead, he moved straight to the bed with her in his arms.
Aye. This was what she wanted. Gregor, unfettered. To share this with him, and afterward to tuck it away in the most private corner of her heart, to be treasured forever. Even if the rest of her days were unhappy, she would have this one night.
When they reached the bed, he lowered her down, but she would not release the hold she had around his bare shoulders. The feel of his heated skin beneath her hands was like a spell, possessing her, making her crave more.
She’d been so stunned when he’d answered her knock shirtless that she’d nearly gone to pudding and lost her nerve. But there was no turning back now—and no desire to.
Gently, he extracted himself from her hold and straightened. He gazed down at her, his dark eyes opaque in the