AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I never lied.”
“You stole me away.”
“You came willingly.”
“You fed my dad’s addiction. You knew he’d gamble the money away and be unable to repay you.”
“He already had the addiction. He was already in debt. I paid his other debts off.”
“Still.”
“I saved him from the scum that would have taken much more than your hand in marriage from him.”
“Why? Why me?”
“You’re sweet. You’re good. You’re…right.”
The right smell. The right taste. The right kind of effortless beauty.
Kindness. Sweetness. Radiance.
The right girl.
“You’re the woman a man chooses for his wife.” I lift my hand to my beard but stop myself, shoving it back in my pocket. “To have his babies. A good girl like you, you wouldnae give a man like me the time of day.”
“You’re right,” she says. “With good reason.”
That hurts. Badly. Bands tighten around my chest.
I ache with need, thinking of her sitting at the Hobgoblin, that flush on her face as I teased her, tugging on the end of her braids. Wee Fi is all grown up.
“I wanted you from the moment you denied me that dance.” I reach out to touch her face, and she lets me. “Sweet. Innocent. Beautiful.”
She seems to soften a bit, leaning my way as she crosses her arms over her chest.
I’ve worked so hard to see her point of view. Why can she not try to see mine?
She’s being so unreasonable—thank God Freya never told her about the contract…
“Fiona.” I take her face in my hands, “Please. Try to understand.”
For a moment, she’s silent. Thinking. Then, she shakes her head, taking my hand from her face. “I cannae understand something like that.”
“Why not?”
“If you don’t understand…” Anger glints in her gaze. “You’re a monster.”
Icy tendrils of pain creep through my chest, leaving a chill in my bones. “A monster?”
But she’s not finished with me yet. “You tell me why, Callum Burnes. Tell me why a simple island girl such as myself would not want to be with a man like you.”
I stare at her openly. “I dunno.”
Tears glisten in her eyes, threatening to fall. She gives them an angry swipe. “Try—for just a wee moment—to put yourself in my shoes.”
I try to do as she says. I think of her meager home. Her lonely life. Days spent working her fingers to the bone. Nights spent alone in a cold bed.
Still, I don’t understand. My anger begins to creep up. “Haven’t I given you everything?”
