way out if you only wanted a marriage because I was the heir to the former laird.â Her blue eyes revealed a tenderness he had not spied from her even when he had cradled her body to his. âI knew that I could not sit idly by as you broke my heart that way.â
The raw honesty of that confession touched him. The words marked the first hint that their future might hold a far greater treasure than heâd imagined.
âYou credit me with enough power to break such a staunch heart?â He smoothed her tousled hair away from her face, and wondered if a woman like Isolda could ever be tamed.
Somehow, he suspected he would grieve if her bold spirit was ever dampened.
Her gaze tracked his. Cagey. Careful.
And he realized he went about this all wrong.
âWait.â He began again, hoping he understood now how to appeal to a woman whoâd stood strong in the face of so much hardship and heartbreak. âI will tell you instead that you, Isolda of Iness, have enough power to break my heart. Indeed, you fairly crushed it to naught when I heard your scream echo through the courtyard. I thought Iâd lost you forever.â
âPerhaps you felt that way because you see me as a key to legitimizing your claim to Iness.â She lifted the same argument that she had since he had first revealed his identity, and he debated how to smash it for good.
âWould you trust my intentions if I forsake Iness?â
She went as still as the stones all around them. He could swear he heard her heart beat over the gurgle of the rushing water.
âWhat?â She blinked.
âI would regret the loss of what I won by the sword. But our king will remain grateful to have a Scots keep back in Scots hands. Malcolm would surely trade some other holding with me if I presented a reasonable exchange. Until then, I have Glenmore as my birthright.â
He had no trouble making that vow if it meant keeping her. She was worth far more to him than the holding.
Isolda fought off the chill of the cave as she tried to absorb what Cormac said.
It sounded like he would be willing to give up Iness just to demonstrate that he wanted herâno matter her political importance. Could he really mean that? She recognized she was tired and overwhelmed from an endless ordeal, but there could hardly be any other way to interpret his words.
Perhaps a man who would do such an unconventional thing as forsake a hard-won keep would not mind her less-than-conventional ways.
âYou would do that for me?â A soft prickling began in her heart, like the sensation of pins and needles in a limb when it awakens after going numb.
âAye.â He ripped off a small patch of his tunic, tearing the fabric so that he held a small square of it. This he dipped in water and wrung out before applying the cold cloth to her cheek. âI have found a woman who can survive a harsh northern winter with no maid and no retainers to help her. Imagine what that kind of woman could accomplish with a household at her command. Imagine what you could do to improve the lives of the villagers who have lost loved ones to war and possessions to raids.â
She tipped her head to one side as he cleaned her cut. His gentle touch reminded her of his lovemaking and so many other touches.
âI do not want to marry for the sake of a good work partnership,â she pressed, although by now, she was beginning to guess Cormac of Glenmore saw the potential for much more than a political alliance here.
Pleasure radiated from his touch on her cheek to her temple. Her shoulder. Her breasts.
Her heart.
âThen marry for love,â he suggested simply.
Her pulse spiked wildly. Real hope filled her mind with visions she had not dared to allow herself.
âYou are a warrior. A conqueror.â She did not say it as an accusation, but as an observation. âWhat do you know of love?â
He tipped her chin straight to look at him head-on.
âI