Entrusted to a Highlander (Highland Promise Trilogy 2)

“He is not fighting Brynjar. I FORBID IT!” Purity commanded, having entered the Great Hall without being heard, but then she was barefoot and dressed only in a linen nightdress that barely reached her ankles. “I will not lose a husband that I’m barely wed to. I forbid it! I absolutely forbid it, husband!”

“I’ll leave you to this,” Royden said with a chuckle and hurried out of the room and to his bedchamber.

“This is something you have no say in, wife,” Arran said, tempering his response since anger still stirred in him.

Purity stood directly in front of the table, her hands planted on her hips. “I most certainly do. I am your wife and I won’t leave you to die from foolishness.”

“Foolishness?” he snapped sharply. “It is foolish to want to make the man taste the same suffering he took such pleasure in forcing on others. Brynjar would gorge himself on food and drink as he watched men being tortured, and he’d laugh at their screams.” He quickly bit his tongue, keeping himself from saying more. He didn’t want to leave images in his wife’s head that most certainly would leave her with nightmares.

Purity cringed at his words and shook her head. “That is beyond horrible and I thank God you escaped him, and I can understand your need for revenge. But I beg you, Arran, not to take any unnecessary chance with this evil man. If you should be captured again, it would force me to plead with the devil himself for your release.”

Arran’s dark eyes flared with fury as he vaulted over the table so fast that Purity stumbled back startled. She winced when his hand clamped around her arm, but he was so intent on his anger that he didn’t take notice.

“Listen well, wife. NEVER. EVER will you make yourself known to Brynjar. He takes whatever woman he wants and gets his pleasure from causing her pain—the more pain, the more pleasure for him. I have seen a woman take her own life, tired of suffering at his hands. He cannot be reasoned with since he sees no reason but his own. You will stay far away from him.”

“Then promise me you will do the same,” she said softly.

Arran noticed the slight cringe to her brow and around her eyes and realized his grip on her arm was far too tight and pulled his hand away. “I cannot promise you that, but I will have your word on it.”

“I cannot, for I would tempt hell itself to see you safe.”

He ran his hand over his head in frustration and anger, then pointed his finger at her. “If I find myself in hell it’s because I deserve it and I forbid you from coming after me.”

“You can forbid all you want. I will do as I please just as you do,” Purity challenged.

“I do what must be done,” he argued.

Her chin shot up defiantly. “As do I.”

“I liked you better when you were meek and compliant,” he spat.

“I didn’t, and that’s what matters. Never again will I be silent and obedient. I will always voice how I feel to you whether you like it or not. That includes letting you know when I feel you’re wrong and letting you know time and again that I love you.”

Arran reached out, his hands gripping either side of her face as he came to stand so close to her their bodies brushed. “I fear your stubborn bravery and also admire it.”

Purity smiled. “I need it to be wed to you.”

Purity was certain she’d caught it even though it was in a blink of an eye that she did. The corners of his mouth had turned up in a smile that tried to surface, disappearing before it had the chance to fully blossom. It was a start and it also let her know that inside him still lurked the old Arran who smiled often, and she couldn’t be happier.

“Come to bed,” she urged.

He rested his brow to hers. “There is too much anger stirring in me right now.”

She placed her hand gently on his arm. “All I ask is that you lie beside me, nothing more.”

The problem was he wanted more, so much more.

“After hearing this news, I need you there beside me, husband.”

He scowled as he questioned, “So that you know where I am?”

“So that I can rest safe at least for one night. Will you deny me one night?” she asked softly.

His response was to scoop her up in his arms and carry her upstairs.

He wouldn’t deny her one night, but he would deny himself from satisfying the ache in his loins. His anger was too close to the surface to make love to his wife. The unexpected thought had him almost stumbling on the stairs, but he caught himself.

Make love.