Her heart seemed to flutter in her chest and she lost all common sense every time he called her my love. He sounded so sincere and it was far too intoxicating to ignore. Besides, she had promised him a reward.

Poor excuse, Willow, poor excuse. You just want to be in his arms.

Her admonishing thoughts couldn’t have been more right, and she eagerly went into his arms.

A chill still lingered in him, seeping into her as soon as she pressed her body against his, but his hands were warm when they came to rest at her back as he hugged her tight against him.

She was home.

A crazy thought, and yet, it felt right. She was at home in his arms. He held her with strength and confidence, and with a possessiveness that let one know he’d never let her go. Which was fine with her, since she was right where she wanted to be.

Their eyes held briefly, “I’ll have that kiss now.”

“And I’ll gladly give it to you,” she whispered and brought her lips to rest on his.

Slatter assumed that she changed her mind when her lips made no move to actually kiss him. When suddenly, as if released from a trance, her lips delivered a stunning kiss that had him quickly responding.

It was as if something had broken free in her. That she threw caution to the wind without a second thought. That she kissed him with a passion that was new to her. That she kissed without doubt or reserve.

He ran his hand down along the curve of her back, craving that small touch of intimacy, warning himself not to go any farther, reminding himself it wasn’t the time nor the place. But there was an ache in him he didn’t know he had and it grew every time he touched his wife. It could be the simple way her fingers wrapped around his hand when he took hold of hers, as if she welcomed him home. Or the way she fit so perfectly in his arms. Or how he had never truly tasted passion until he had kissed her.

Aye, there was an ache in him. An ache for a woman he could never have.

He ended their kiss with a tender tug of her bottom lip, fighting with himself to let go of her.

“I’m not the right man for you, leannan,” he whispered.

The kiss had stolen her breath and though she didn’t want to admit, had tried to ignore it, deny it, she feared he had stolen her heart.

“Isn’t that for me to decide,” she found herself saying.

“Trust me when I tell you that I’m no good for you.” he stepped away from her.

“You can’t tell me you’re not a good man, not after I’ve seen you suffer along with your grandmother or how I’ve seen the fear of losing her spark in your eyes.”

He turned a deep scowl on her. “I’ve asked for your trust when it was most important. It’s more important now than ever that you trust me on this. You would regret remaining my wife.”