The Ghost by Greyson, Maeve (best motivational books to read .txt) 📕

“Grand words from a man who just hours ago claimed to know nothing of parenting!”

“He wishes to be my son. Wants to come to Tor Ruadh and see how life with a family can be.” With the force of a charging beast, he backed her up a step. “But he canna bear the thought of a day without ye, and as far as I am concerned, he doesna have to.” He shoved his face close to hers. “Why, in the name of all that’s holy, would ye refuse to come with us to the keep?”

“Because I’d be a burden,” she shot back. “All would pity him for being tethered to an impoverished woman of no name, and I am sure they would assume no moral standards. They would gossip about how I cared for the both of us for as long as I did without a man at my side.” She fisted both hands, tempted to strike him. “I willna put Keigan through that.”

“Ye are a healer,” Magnus retorted. “And it’s also none of their damned affair how ye kept him fed.”

“So, ye want yer son associated with a woman yer clan might brand as a whore, or maybe even a witch?”

Before she realized what he meant to do, he grabbed hold of her shoulders. Holding her tight, he spoke through clenched teeth. “My mother was executed for being a witch.” He paused, the muscles in his square jaw rippling. “Gretna Cameron, Evander’s mother, came close to being burnt at the stake for the same reason. Alexander has ordained that if any in Clan MacCoinnich accuses another of such, they damned sure better be able to prove it. True, factual evidence. Not the charades of a well-paid witch pricker.” Nostrils flaring, his jaw flexed again. “And I willna grace yer other insult with a response. Folk always gossip. Their foolishness isna worth yer time or worry.”

She could tell he wanted to shake her hard enough to snap her neck but held himself in check. Devil take him. The fool man couldn’t even be accused of being abusive. Where in heaven’s name had her sister found this oddity when it came to men? Managing to yank free of his hold, she shoved away and put an arm’s length of space between them.

His nearness bothered her. Not because she couldn’t stand him, but because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t despise him either. No wonder Keigan already loved the irritating beast. Kindred souls attracted each other like bees to heather. She waved him away as though he were a midge. “Ye should be proud of yerself. Won him outright, ye have, and all will be just as ye wished. Dinna fash yerself, he will be fine with visiting me now and then. Ye’ll see. He’ll adjust. Bairns always do.”

“I will see nothing.” He closed the distance between them again and took hold of her. Locking his fingers in her hair, he tipped her face up to his and tightened his other arm around her waist. “I willna take him from ye, nor will I leave ye alone and unprotected. It wouldna be right, and I willna burden my conscience with such a deplorable act.”

By heavens, if he was determined to churn her emotions into a storm, she would do the same to him. A futile shove to push herself free again only made his embrace tighten. “What am I to ye other than an annoyance?” she goaded, doing her best to vex him even more so he might release her.

“Ye speak the truth about that,” he agreed in a low, dangerous tone that sent a breathtaking tingle through her, a tingle no man had ever triggered before. “Ye’re a damned annoyance for certain.” Teeth bared, he held fast for a moment longer, then his grip flexed in her hair. “But ye are the woman my son needs and…” His words trailed off as the space between them disappeared.

“And what?” she dared, digging her fingernails into the iron of his muscular arms as she squirmed to be freed.

“And ye are the woman I need, too, damn ye.” Another growl escaped him, then he kissed her with such an intensity it shook her.

The action frightened her to the core. Not because she feared him. Nay, far from it. The only thing she feared was that he would let her go—and that feeling frightened her even more. Tossing both caution and fear to the wind, she clutched him tighter. Their delicious war raged, fire against inescapable fire. She reeled with its heat.

After an entirely improper amount of time, her good sense finally surfaced and freed her of his spell. For that’s surely what it had to have been. Some sort of powerful witchery. Had to be. She had gotten her fill of men while working at Wickhaven. The stench of them. Their greedy pawing while she served them food and drink. All the men she had ever known, including her father, had treated their dogs better than they treated their women. She shoved at Magnus again, and this time he released her. Edging backward, one slow step at a time, she battled herself just as fiercely as she was prepared to battle him. Her ridiculous wants and needs would only lead to folly. “How dare ye! I will thank ye to never take such liberties again. Ye have no right.”

“Ye will be coming to Tor Ruadh,” he said softly, but somehow the quiet edict rumbled loud as thunder.

“Are ye asking or telling?”

He stared at her so long, she thought she would lose control and throw herself back into his arms, revealing all the loneliness and yearning to be cared for that he had uncovered within her.

“I asked ye before,” he said. “Now, I’m telling ye.”

“What if I dinna wish it?” she provoked. “What if I refuse?”

“Dinna challenge me on something ye have no hope of winning, lass.” He took a step toward her.