Page 96 of Midnight Conquest

Davina burst through the door. Her gaze immediately locked on Broderick, who stood near the window, his dark eyes narrowing as they met hers. The firelight from the hearth gilded his features, casting shadows that only deepened the predatory intensity in his gaze.

“Uncle,” she said curtly, ignoring the way Broderick’s piercing stare sent a ripple of heat down her spine. “I’d like to speak withBroderick in private.”

“Nay,” Tammus said without looking up, his quill scratching across parchment. “I’ve spent enough time on this nonsense. This is the agreement I had with Finlay, so there’s no need for a fresh draft. I’ll expedite it with the procurator.”

Davina’s jaw tightened. “Expedite it for whom?”

Tammus rolled up the document and slid it into a wooden box. “For Broderick.”

Her mouth fell open, but before she could protest, Tammus continued, “I’m going into the village to get the priest and finalize these documents. You’ll be wed tonight. I don’t care if I keep the vicar up until dawn to get this managed.”

Broderick stayed silent, the corner of his mouth twitching as though he found this whole ordeal amusing, the glint in his eyes a mixture of hunger and satisfaction.

Tammus stood, hefted the box under his arm, and pointed a finger at Davina. “Have the chapel prepared for the nuptials.”

“But—”

“No argument,” he barked. He stormed toward the door, pausing in the doorway to glance over his shoulder. “Nowyou can speak to Broderick.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Davina and Broderick alone.

She spun to face him, hands planted firmly on her hips. “What the bloody hell is this about?”

Broderick didn’t answer right away. Instead, he crossed the room with that maddening dimple in his cheek, peering out the window. She saw the tension in his shoulders, the taut line of his jaw as he watched Tammus disappear toward the gate.

Only when Tammus vanished from sight did Broderick turn back to her. His dark green eyes pinned her in place, keen andunrelenting.

“Why did you scare Finlay away?” she demanded, her voice rising with fury and disbelief. “He was my last chance at marrying a decent man.”

His brow furrowed, lips twisting into a frown. “I’ll try not tae take that personally.”

“You told me marriage didn’t suit you,” she snapped, her frustration spilling over.

“It doesnae,” he said, his voice deep and steady, like rolling thunder beneath his words. “But I’m givin’ ye what ye want.”

Her brows knitted tight in confusion. “What?”

“Ye wanted the estate under a man’s name so ye could run it yerself.” His gaze held hers fast, making her pulse trip beneath her ribs. “I’m volunteering tae do that for ye.”

She stuck a finger in her ear and jiggled it, as if that might clear her senses. “Come again?”

Broderick smirked, a slow curl of his lips that heated her skin and stoked her irritation in equal measure. “Ye heard me.”

Her stomach flipped a tight somersault. She stared at him, her thoughts racing to piece together his meaning. “You frightened Finlay away because…that was our deal?”

He shrugged, the motion maddeningly nonchalant. “Partly. But I also knew yer uncle wasnae goin’ tae let ye put yer estate in his name. So, I decided that since I already knew yer plan, I’d help ye make it happen. Honestly, I dinnae trust anyone else. Not even Finlay.”

Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “This was all about getting your stupid payment?”

His grin deepened, his eyes smoldering into something darker, more dangerous, as he stalked closer. The air between them thickened, heavy as storm clouds on the verge of breaking.Her breath caught when his voice dropped to a near growl, rough and low enough to make her pulse stumble. “Oh, ye’re still goin’ tae pay me, Blossom. We did indeed have a deal.”

His eyes raked over her slowly, lingering shamelessly on the swell of her breasts before meeting her gaze again. Heat licked across her skin, sparking beneath the surface.

“When I’m in town, ye belong tae me. Every inch of ye. I want ye in my bed. And ye dinnae leave it until I’m satisfied. That’s the price of yer freedom.”

Her chest tightened as she took a wary step back, her thigh brushing the edge of the chair. His piercing gaze pinned her in place—possessive, predatory. A shiver coursed through her body, settling hot and insistent in her core. She forced herself to lift her chin, defiance tightening her spine, glaring at him as though she weren’t on the verge of trembling. “And your money?”

“Ten percent,” he said flatly, as though it were trivial. “The rest…well, I’d say I’m claimin’ it in other ways.”

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