“With you?” He laughed coldly. “With a woman who has betrayed me? You’re no’ a stupid lass, Margot. You’ve no misjudged a bloody thing,” he said against her neck, and deftly removed the goblet from her hand and put it aside on a table as he continued his mouth’s exploration of her nape. “As much as it amuses me to hear it, I donna believe you’ve thought of me at all, except perhaps to wonder when your next purse would arrive from Scotland.” He slid his hand around to her breast and roughly squeezed it. “Is that no’ so?”

Margot’s lips parted with the sharp intake of her breath. His rough handling of her was causing the heat in her to rise and bloom in her skin. “That is not so,” she said, trying futilely not to sound as breathless as she felt in his arms.

Arran grabbed her waist and twirled her around to face him. “Donna lie to me,” he said, and clasped her head in his enormous hands and kissed her. It was a hard kiss, one full of frustration. He kissed her in a way he had never kissed her before, his tongue tangling hotly with hers, his teeth grazing her lips.

Margot tumbled off some interior ledge. She wasn’t prepared for this, would have said it impossible—but his rough wooing was invoking a fiery response in her. She panicked and pushed hard against his chest. She had to control this between them. She had to keep her wits about her. “Unhand me,” she said roughly.

That did nothing to stop him; in fact, his eyes fired with the challenge. “You’re still my wife. That you canna change. Thank your stars I’ve no’ locked you away just yet.”

Her heart leaped painfully. That would be the utter end of her, to be sent back here, only to be locked away. Margot tried to walk out of his arms, but Arran pushed her up against the wall. When she freed herself, he grabbed both her hands and lifted them over her head, pinning them to the wall with one hand. He held her there, his gaze greedily scraping over her, studying her, as if reacquainting himself with every inch of her body.

She hated how quickly his stark gaze aroused her. It was so virile, so full of lust. This man was a far cry from the one who had so tenderly initiated her into lovemaking. “You’re a beast,” she breathed.