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She shook her head like she could fling away the chaos of his presence. “I don’t have time for this.” She clutched her cloak tighter around her throat and marched on.“Make haste, girl! Uncle Tammus could be interrogating the household right now about where my damn husband is.”

A surge of heat flooded Broderick’s chest—protective and unexpected. “Wait. Davina.” His stride closed the gap between them, and he reached out to gently tug her elbow. “Does yer husband still mistreat ye?”

She jerked her arm free, her spine stiffening. A flush colored her cheeks, this time from something tangled between shame and anger. “The brief encounter we had does not give you the right to ask such inappropriate questions, sir.”

Her eyes darted to the woods, as if the shadows themselves might overhear. She stepped closer, voice a low hiss. “Notthat it is any business of yours, but my husband died in the Battle of Flodden.”

She straightened and strode away again.

Aye, that war had left no shortage of grief in its wake. He followed, thoughts darkening. “I’ll be honest wi’ ye. I’m nay sorry for yer loss.”

“Nor am I.”

The confession was a surprise—barbed, bare, and true. He respected it.

He caught up again and leaned close with conspiracy. “So, if he’s dead,” he whispered, “why are ye afraid yer uncle will interrogate yer household about where he is?”

Her breath caught, her sapphire eyes snapping back to his. Panic flickered across her face before she masked it, her mental walls slamming into place. Impressive. She was better atguarding her thoughts than most, but not enough to keep him from catching glimpses of her fear.

Then she threw her hands up and rolled her eyes heavenward. “Bloody hell, I forgot how skilled you are at reading minds. For your information, I was forced to marry again. Surely, you know that no woman can live without the capable and overbearing presence of a man telling her what to do.”

“Aye, well, I can think o’ worse things than bein’ tied tae a bonnie lass like yerself.”

Davina scoffed and brushed past him with a toss of her cloak. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must hasten to get home.”

“Where is he then?” Broderick asked, staying put and crossing his arms. “Yer husband. Is he gone often?” He suppressed a grin as she stormed back to get in his face.

Her sapphire eyes blazed with fury. “Thatis none of your business.” She turned and pushed on without him, then returned in a flurry. “If youmustknow, aye. He’s a very busy man.” She nodded firmly, as if that settled the matter, and whirled away from him.

Before she took another step, he snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her back against him.

She gasped.

Their eyes met—sapphire and emerald—and the space between them vanished.

A low growl rolled from Broderick’s chest as her soft curves molded to him, the swell of her breasts pressed warm against his chest. His hand lifted, brushing a strand of cinnamon hair from her face, fingers lingering along her cheek. She trembled at his touch, her lips parting, her heartbeat thundering in his ears.

He drank in her scent—rose oil, warm skin, the sweet musk of desire blooming beneath it.

“Then mayhap ye need someone tae warm yer bed on those cold, lonely nights,” he murmured, voice thick and molten.

But a sudden flash—vivid and unwelcome—intruded.

A ruddy-faced man. Davina’s memory.

Broderick stiffened as the image burned through his senses, and she struggled in his arms.

“Christ’s blood, don’t you men ever use copper bed warmers?” She shoved out of his embrace, and with a growl of frustration, she turned and stormed up the road.

“Copper… What?” Broderick blinked, momentarily stunned. Then his gaze dropped to her retreating form. The sway of her hips—infuriating and intoxicating. Seducing this woman was proving far more difficult than expected. But he’d be damned if he let her walk away now.

With a burst of immortal speed, he darted forward and swept her into his arms once more.

This time, he let his compulsion unfurl gently—like a mist creeping through the cracks. A subtle pressure brushed her mind, inviting rather than overpowering.

She gasped, tension flaring in her muscles. Her lashes fluttered, lips parting slightly as her fingers curled against his chest.

For a heartbeat, he had her.