Page 46 of Midnight Conquest

“You do come on very strong,” she admitted, her voice quiet, hesitant. “But in truth…the night we spent together in Aberdeen is the only reason I’m even considering your…amorousterms for this agreement.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his features, quickly chased by something darker, more primal. His voice dropped, laced with heat. “Aye, well…I plan tae make sure that’s the sweetest part o’ the deal.”

Heat crept into her cheeks, and she looked away quickly.Saints!What was it about this man that set her blood on fire? She couldn’t let herself get caught up in his seduction and make herself vulnerable. Davina pushed out of his arms and started up the path.

Broderick sighed. “See? Ye’re doin’ it again.”

Her steps faltered, and she spun to face him, her hands landing on her hips. “I’m not tryin’ to—”

“Davina.” He closed the distance and reached for her hands, his grip firm but not overbearing. The rough edge of his roguish grin softened into something gentler, kinder. “Ye’re safe with me. Yer thoughts, yer secrets…all of it. I swear it.”

Her lips pressed together, uncertainty flickering in her chest. She wanted to believe him. Against all reason, she wanted to trust him. But the weight of her past made it hard to let go. The secret she’d been keeping from everyone, even Rosselyn, was abarrier she couldn’t afford to lower—not yet. For her daughter’s sake.

Still, something about the way he looked at her—the quiet conviction in his voice, the steadiness in his touch—softened the tension in her shoulders. Maybe she could open up…a little. Just enough to let him hear surface thoughts. Not enough to dive deep.

“Close yer eyes,” he said, his voice a slow pour of honey, rich and coaxing. “Take a deep breath. I’ll show ye how to open up to me.”

She hesitated, but the quiet patience in his expression steadied her nerves. With a reluctant sigh, she closed her eyes and drew in a long, calming breath.

“Good,” he murmured, his tone a velvet caress. “Now, imagine a white bubble of light spreadin’ out from yer heart, enclosin’ just the two of us.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she followed his strange instructions, picturing a glowing bubble in her mind. It grew slowly, expanding to surround them.

“That’s it, lass. Just relax. Imagine it’s our own private sanctuary, where nothin’ can touch us. Only ye and I can hear yer thoughts.”

The tension in her chest eased. The warmth of that imagined light pulsed gently in her mind, casting the shadows of fear just far enough away to let something else in—something new.

“Now,” he continued, “think of somethin’ ye want to say to me, as if ye were speakin’ to me with yer thoughts.”

Her lips parted slightly, doubt creeping in. “What do I say?”

“Whatever ye like,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Ye could even ask that but think it instead of sayin’ it.”

She nodded faintly, the words forming in her mind.“Likethis?”

A soft chuckle rumbled through him.“Aye, like that. See? ’Tis simple.”

Her lips twitched into a faint smile.“Thank you,”she thought, her voice tentative in her own mind.

“Ye’re welcome, Blossom,”came his reply, the words warm and teasing. The pet name was so intimate, especially in her mind, it sent a flicker of heat through her chest. This time, she didn’t pull away.

Broderick’s grin turned roguish again.“I’m glad I could give ye the escape ye craved that night in Aberdeen.”His voice inside her head was laced with mischief.“And ye’ll have more of that once we’ve accomplished yer goal.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she hooked her arm through Broderick’s and urged him up the road toward the castle. She let herself sink into the quiet rhythm of their steps as they practiced exchanging thoughts and enjoyed the newfound ease of their private communication. For the first time in a long time, she felt something unexpected—hope.

Chapter Eight

The study door loomed ahead, its dark wood polished to a dull sheen. Davina’s steps slowed, her shoulders rigid. Broderick reached for her wrist just as her hand rose to knock. Her pulse thrummed beneath his fingers, quick and uneven, a quiet temptation.

“Wait,” he whispered, keeping it between them. “We need a sign.”

Her brow furrowed, and she glanced up at him. “For what?”

“In case ye shut me out.”

“I won’t,” she said, her tone defensive.

His lips curved into a faint smile. “I admire yer confidence, but it’s best if we’re prepared. Ye’re prone to…well, shuttin’ me out.”

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