Page 19 of A Bride for the Wicked Highlander (Daring a Highland Laird #2)

A s Maddie’s bliss receded, so did the mist of obsession that had relieved Oscar of his greatest fear. She was pink-cheeked and smiling, glowing with the sort of radiance that could bring empires to their knees.

Yet, all Oscar could feel was dread as he withdrew his fingers, scrunching his eyes shut as she gasped once more.

What were ye thinkin’? She gave ye the perfect excuse to stay away, and ye couldnae help yerself…

She was under his skin and in his veins, lodged inside his head like a grass seed that no amount of plucking could remove now.

He’d done it to himself, knotting the very thought of her into the threads of his being with his own damned hands.

He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her, knowing that if he did, he would be doomed to the madness and the jealousy of his father before him.

There was no woman more beautiful, no woman more intoxicating, no woman more extraordinary than her. She’d just proven that, responding to his touch as if she’d been made for him. How could he not fall into obsession, married to such an otherworldly goddess?

Ye’ve thrown yerself into a pit of spikes here, lad, he chided himself as he stood abruptly, striding around to the back of her chair.

He didn’t bother to untie her, knowing it would take too long and would bring him too close to the temptation of her.

Instead, he reached into his boot, drew his dirk, and sliced straight through the ribbon.

Freeing her without making the mistake of having to crouch behind her, where the sound of her shallow breathing and the scent of her would ensnare him all over again.

“Return to yer chambers,” he said gruffly, turning his back.

He heard the creak of the chair and the rustle of her skirts cascading back down to the floor. A hesitant scuff of a footstep told him that she couldn’t decide whether to approach or retreat.

Retreat, lass. I beg of ye.

“That’s all you have to say to me?” she replied, her voice carrying the echo of her breathless bliss. The sweet turning sour.

“Go to yer chambers,” he repeated more forcefully, sliding his blade into his belt.

Her hand grasped his sleeve. “I’m your wife now, Oscar. I won’t be sent away.” Her voice was soft, but he could tell she was struggling to keep it so. “You can’t... do that to me and order me to leave your side. We’re bound.”

“I willnae ask ye again,” he rasped, his mind conjuring images of them entangled.

But that was the trouble; he couldn’t risk entangling himself any more than he had already done, or he might never be able to extricate himself from his need to possess her.

“And I don’t want you to,” she said, a note of defiance drifting back into her tone.

His hand closed around the hand that held his sleeve, as he whirled around to face her. His other hand shot out to grip her wrist, pulling her away from him, prizing her fingers from the fabric.

He swallowed thickly as he whispered, “When I tell ye to leave, ye leave... for yer own safety.” His breath came in sawing pants. “I might be yer husband, but ye cannae trust me. Never trust me.”

I’ll devour ye, body and soul. I’ll leave nothin’ left but a shell of who ye are now. It’s in me blood; I willnae be able to stop it if I get too close to ye, if I weave meself with the threads of ye.

He wanted to explain, wanted to warn her, but the words wouldn’t come.

All he saw was the radiant pink of her cheeks, the sheen of her perfect skin, the shine of her red hair, the gleaming, golden-green hue of her hazel eyes behind spectacles that stopped her from seeing what he truly was: no good for her.

“You take what you want and then you discard me?” she said, her throat bobbing. “Is that it?”

His hand on her wrist refused to loosen, his arm pulling her toward him instead of away, as if he had no control anymore. “I didnae take what I want,” he growled. “I gave ye what ye want.”

His gaze flitted to her lips, their plump shape swollen by the violence of their earlier kisses. So full and red that just looking was torture, much less remembering.

“How can that be when I didn’t know what you meant to do?” she replied, allowing him to bring her closer. As if she, too, couldn’t stay away. “I don’t know what I want.”

His breath caught in his throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, I’m not one of your carousel of women,” she said, her voice hitching. “I don’t know what I want, because I’ve experienced nothing. So, for you to say that you gave me what I want is a lie. You gave me... a lesson, nothing more.”

He clenched his other hand into a fist, resisting the urge to wrap his arm around her waist, to feel her tight against him. “Please, lass. Just leave. Trust me on this.”

“You just said I should never trust you,” she murmured, gently resting her palm on his chest, right above the spot where his heart threatened to pound out of his chest. “And it’s our wedding day. If I part from you now, what will people say?”

He clenched his jaw. “I dinnae care what people say, but I cannae have ye here with me. And ye should remember the rules ye put in place, instead of breakin’ them as ye please.” He took a breath, removing her hand from his chest. “ Go , or I’ll call for Ryder and have him take ye to yer chambers.”

“You won’t carry me there yourself, slung over your shoulder like I’m in dire need of a scolding?” she said in a silky voice that she had to have learned from him, the soft seduction making his stomach tighten and his loins burn.

He’d tortured himself enough when he slid his fingers into the warm, wet heat of her and heard her cry out in ecstasy, knowing he could never take the reckless risk of plunging himself inside her.

Even now, his manhood ached with a longing that could never be satisfied.

Nor was it something that any other woman could remedy.

There can be nay other women now. She’s poisoned the well.

If he couldn’t have her, he wanted no one.

“I willnae go anywhere with ye,” he replied. “And ye’re tryin’ me patience.”

She met his gaze, frowning as if she were trying to solve him.

“One day, husband , you’ll have to explain to me why a renowned lothario like you can touch me once and be done, when I know you don’t emerge until dawn with your lovers,” she said, the glint of sudden pain in her eyes almost undoing his resolve.

“You’ll have to tell me, in detail, what is so very wrong with me, that you can’t spare me—your wife—a second glance. ”

Instinct took over, smothering the progress he’d made in pushing her away. His hand yanked her forward, his arm sliding slowly around her waist, his chest rising and falling in fevered breaths as he gazed down at her with what must have been an inferno in his eyes.

“Is that what ye think?” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Surely, she could see the turmoil within him.

Surely, the most intelligent woman he’d ever met couldn’t be oblivious to the fact that sending her away was tearing him in two.

Surely, she couldn’t believe there was anything wrong with her, when, if he had released his restraint, he would have kept her in that room not just until dawn, but for a week.

And then, the rest of her life. Years spent behind a locked door because I willnae be able to bear anyone so much as glancin’ at her.

“That’s what you’re showing me,” she replied. “You only did what you did because I danced with Brodie. You were staking your claim, not bringing me such pleasure because you wanted to. At least, that’s how it appears—nothing more than a dog cocking his leg when another dog patters in.”

Oscar forced down the laugh that was trying to bubble to the surface, astounded by the absurdity of her words.

Indeed, for such a clever woman, she was being quite the idiot; he’d never been so aroused, so consumed, so tormented in his life.

Couldn’t she feel what just holding her against him was doing to him?

Couldn’t she feel how much he wanted her?

As for not giving her a second glance, he’d spent most of the celebrations staring at her in one way or another. When she was in the room, he couldn’t see anyone but her and knew the same feeling would extend to when she was absent too.

But he let her go, refusing to repeat the mistake he’d just made.

“On ye go,” he said stiffly. “Rest well, wife.”

Ye’ve a whole life ahead of ye that I willnae ruin.

Maddie backed away, her eyes alight with a fury that he half-expected her to unleash upon him, holding nothing back. Instead, simmering in silence, she turned on her heel and left the Great Hall, still strewn with the remnants of a party that was now over.

She didn’t slam the door but let it close quietly, the shriek of the hinges almost worse than the boom he’d anticipated as it shivered down his spine.

It’s better this way. Aye, it’d be best if ye hated me completely.