“Brooke!” Landon’s voice cuts through my panic. I look toward the sound of his voice.

“You’re awake now. It’s all right. You were dreaming, Beagchaithnini sneachta.” His voice is a soft blanket around my skin.

I nod my head in his direction then turn toward my end stand, reaching for my glasses. My blurry world turns clear as the lenses took their place. Landon switches his lamp on and sits quietly beside me. We seem to sit there forever, him quietly assessing me to see if I was all right.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” I croaked out.

“It’s fine.”

I nod my head.

“You were having a nightmare.” It is not a question but a statement I did not know how to respond to.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Landon asks after a beat.

I shake my head and get up from the bed, slipping on my silk floor-length robe. I head down to the kitchen to fix myself some tea in hopes it will help calm my racing heart.

Landon comes down and leans against the counter across from me. He does not bother to put a shirt on, and my eyes drift to his impressive chest and abs. He says nothing, and in an effort to ignore how uncomfortable he was making me, I stare at my tea, watching it darken the longer the tea brewed. But no matter how hard I try I could not ignore the inquisitive eyes I felt boring into me.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Staring at me.”

He smirked. “Why? You’re my wife. It’s part of my husbandly duties to admire your beauty.”

I roll my eyes, but tears prickle my eyes at his insincere words. He doesn’t think of me as beautiful. He thinks of me as his inconvenient, conniving, spoiled wife that was forced on him.

“Don’t belittle me.”

“I wasn’t belittling you; I truly was admiring my wife, as is my right.”

I snort.

“I was, Brooke. And do you know what I see when I look at you?”

I shake my head. Part of me wanted to cover my ears like a child and refuse to know, and another part longed to hear what he had to say. Does he think I am beautiful? I shake my head at the ludicrous thought.

“I see your stormy eyes that hold a wealth of secrets veiled in a sheen of deception. You play the role of a docile and timid wife, but we both know there’s more to you than that, isn’t there?”

“As my husband, shouldn’t you know everything about me?”

“I can only know what you show me, Beagchaithnini sneachta.”

“Maybe I would be more inclined to show you if you treated me with a modicum of respect.”

“How can I respect someone who sold themselves in marriage?” His eyebrow quirked up and a snarky grin stretched across his face.

“What kind of man purchases a wife?” I sneer back.

A shadow goes across Landon’s face just then as anger set in his jaw. His voice goes low as he growled out his next sentence.