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I shuffle closer until my knees nudge his trousers. His hand comes to my waist, yanking me closer.

Fionn Harrington has never waited for anything in his life. He buys it, takes it, or builds enough power that it has no choice but to come to him.

I push my fingers into his hair.

It’s shorter at the sides, softer on top, and a little damp. “You enjoyed chasing me, didn't ya?”

“I liked knowing you’d forgotten how to hate me.”

I brush my fingers over the thread-like scar on his cheekbone. “Who did this to ya?”

“Graves.” The name comes out rough. “The only man ever allowed to hit me and survive.”

“I’m sorry.”

I start to lower my hand, but he catches my wrist and keeps my palm against his cheek.

“You’ve nothing to apologize for.” His grip tightens. “My father pulled the trigger.”

I run the pads of my fingers down the curve of his neck until I reach his shirt collar, undo the first button and smooth the starched cotton.

When I look up at him again, his pupils have blown wide, and his eyes lock onto mine.

In the silence, I open another button, then rest my lips over the beating pulse in his neck.

“You’re nervous,” I tease. “Having a Tallon with your ring on her finger would do that to a man.”

“I don’t do nervous.”

“Your thumping heart says otherwise.”

“My heart has been unreliable since I met you.”

“Oh yeah?” I draw my lower lip between my teeth and take my time to unbutton his shirt, one button at a time. “So, ya really are in love with me,” I whisper.

His eyes hold mine. “I am.”

“And wanting to marry me isn’t a plot to get full control of the shipping routes?” My voice comes out surprisingly soft, even though I’m terrified that what I’m saying could be true. “I mean, you were prepared to marry Eilish for power.”

“And I declined that alliance because no other woman has sunk her nails into me like you have.” He smiles. “Metaphorically speaking, of course,”

I lean closer until my forehead rests against his. “Then say it. I want to hear the words… Not just hold a deed and wear a pretty ring.”

His breath warms my lips.

The lightness leaves his expression, and the man beneath it looks back at me without charm or calculation.

“I love you,” he says, kneeling on the floor with my heart in his hands. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect this, us…you.”

I thought hearing him say it would bring relief. Instead, it cracks open something inside me that’s been sealed shut since the first night in the barn.

Dragging his shirt off his shoulders, I smooth my hands over his inked skin, taking my time to appreciate his muscles.

I smile to myself and gently run my nails down his pecs, only to be rewarded by his skin coming alive with goosebumps and faint scratch marks.

“I love ya too,” I whisper.

His eyes close for a beat when the shirt lands on the floor beside us. When he opens them again, the intensity in his stare catapults a shiver across my scalp.