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safe, she stole into the quiet corridor, down the stairs and out of the keep. Guards were on duty and the gate was closed. But since she’d had time to explore of the past few days, she’d come across a nondescript door in the back near the garden. It was an entrance hidden from the outside, very clever indeed, covered by climbing ivy.
    She sneaked out the door with none the wiser and made her way to the small beach by the Loch Fyne. ’Twas just as beautiful as the loch near her home. She sat on the beach, twirling her fingers in the sand and staring out at the water sparkling from the stars in the darkened sky.
    A sound caught her attention and she hurried to the shadows, hiding amidst a few boulders. Walking along the shore was a tall figure. She’d recognize his shadowy outline anywhere. It was her husband.
    He was alone.
    He bent down and picked something up. A rock, maybe? He tossed it into the water. Sorcha stood, preparing to approach him, when a glint of metal caught her attention. Narrowing her gaze, she could just barely make out the shape of someone hastening down the beach, sword drawn toward Reed.
    Without thinking, she wrenched a dagger from her hip, rushed forward and threw it. Reed looked up, his eyes locking onto hers as she threw. In that moment, betrayal, pain and fury crossed his features.
    But she hadn’t time to explain, to warn him of the man behind him. Her dagger sank home with a thunk in the man’s chest.
    “What the…” Reed whirled around, taking in the sight of the fallen man at his feet, who had blood darkening the light-colored shirt he wore.
    She scanned the shadows, straining her eyes for any more assailants. Her ears perked, trying to discern the sounds of the lapping water, her heartbeat and if there was anything out of place. They seemed quite alone now.
    Her husband turned back to her, reaching for her and pulling her into his embrace. “I thought…”
    “’Tis all right.” She glanced down into the face of the older clansman who had challenged their marriage upon her arrival. She was sad to have killed him. But not sad to have saved Reed’s life.
    He gripped her shoulders, pulling her attention back to him. “No, it isn’t. When I saw ye throw your dagger, I thought ye aimed to kill me. That the whole marriage was a sham set up by your brother—”
    “I would never.”
    “I know… I canna believe I—”
    She touched his lips. “Dinna say another word. I understand.”
    He shook his head, insistent. “No, ye dinna understand. Until that moment, I was battling my feelings for ye. ’Tis why I have been avoiding ye.”
    Sorcha pressed her lips to his, needing to feel their warmth and strength beneath hers. He lifted her into the air, holding her tight as his mouth devoured hers, hungry, frenzied, his near death making him urgent in his need to consume her, and she likewise.
    When they parted, just a few inches, he spoke more. “I couldna grasp this feeling.” He tapped his fist to his chest. “When I thought ye were going to kill me, the betrayal I felt was the worst pain of my life. Then upon seeing the man fall at my feet, I…” His forehead fell to hers. “If not for ye, I would be dead or very seriously wounded.”
    “Thank the saints I like to walk in the moonlight.”
    “Aye, thank the saints. Thank your brother for putting us together.”
    “I did resent him at first,” she said, a teasing smile curling her lips. “But now I find I thank him too.”
    “I must confess to ye.” He paused, his gaze intense. Tension whipped around them, pulling them closer together. Sorcha’s heart beat at a rapid pace. “I need ye, Sorcha. I want ye here with me always. I…I love ye.”
    Her legs grew weak and she trembled at the force of conviction in his words. His words resonated so deeply, matching the power of her own emotions. She hadn’t wanted to think about it before now. How much she cared for him, how much his confident grin, sturdy walk, the challenges