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“Perhaps it’s time ye did.”

She made a violent gesture with one hand, as though she tried to disperse all his arguments. “I don’t understand why on earth you want to marry me.”

His gaze didn’t shift from her. “Yes, you do. I told you.”

“That you want me. It’s not enough.”

“Aye, well, ye could be right at that.” He drew himself up to his full impressive height and spoke with a resonant certainty that vibrated in her bones. “Is it enough if I love you? Because by heaven, I do, Marina. I love ye, and I want you to be my wife.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Fergus watched Marina jerk back as if he’d struck her instead of telling her that he loved her. The terror returned to her eyes.

She was so heartbreakingly afraid of relying on anyone but herself. He understood why she felt that way. He even understood how it had helped her become the proud, independent woman she was today.

But her resolve to forge her own path stood in the way of ultimate happiness. For him—and for her. Somehow he must convince her that they were stronger together than they could ever be apart, but right now that seemed impossible.

It hurt like hell that she was so determined not to have him. He’d expected an argument, given he was dealing with Marina, but he’d also imagined she’d relent, given time, because she wante

d to stay with him as much as he wanted her to stay. For God’s sake, after they made love in the hollow, she’d been crying about leaving him.

But so far, all his persuasion had proven most unpersuasive. Nor had his confession of love produced any softening. That hurt, too.

“You…you can’t love me,” she stammered, raising one shaking hand to her throat and retreating a couple of paces across the grass.

“I can.” He paused, knowing he was about to take a risk so much greater than confessing his feelings. “And I believe you love me.”

She went so white that her eyes turned into huge black pools in her ashen face. “I never said so.”

Interesting she didn’t deny it. Interesting and revealing. “Actions speak louder than words.”

“You’re reading too much into desire.”

He shook his head. “No, I dinna think so. Or are ye going to tell me I’m wrong?”

He watched her consider lying. Then it was as if she were a marionette and someone cut her strings. In some obscure way, she collapsed in on herself. “You devil, Mackinnon.”

Fergus didn’t smile, although he wanted to. “So you do love me?”

“How could I do otherwise?” She made a defeated gesture. “I was in love with you when I agreed to become your mistress. I must have been, or else I’d never have said yes.”

Her admission fell on his troubled soul like rain on parched ground, and he drew his first full breath in what felt like an hour. “Is it such a huge step from mistress to wife?”

Those fathomless eyes studied him, then she shook her head. “No, you won’t win against me, just because I’m stupid enough to love you.”

Impatience had him growling and running his hand through his hair. “Can’t you see that if you say yes, we both win?”

She subjected him to more of that ruthless stare, then her shoulders slumped and she turned away to gaze across the empty hills. “I can’t accept a man’s dominion, Mackinnon.”

“Even though you love me?” God almighty, despite everything, had he lost her? Was all their passion to end in a parting? How could he bear it?

The weight of sorrow in her voice crushed him like a rock fall. “Most of all because I love you. It’s too easy for you to gain the advantage over me.”

“Not so far,” he said sourly.

That made her face him. Her eyes had turned dull as he’d never imagined they could. He always thought of Marina as a creature of fire, but the woman who regarded him now looked as if every ounce of life and vigor had been sapped from her.

“I’m sorry, Fergus. I can see I’m making you unhappy, and I hate that.”


Tags: Anna Campbell The Lairds Most Likely Historical