Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Finally I settled on, “Why isn’t your daughter here with you?”
He wasted no time considering his response. “I don’t want her around you.”
Ouch. I wasn’t Isobel, but the insult seared straight to bone. Especially since helping children was my life’s mission.
Better go a different route with my next question. “Why is the signet ring so special to you?”
In a blink, he ceased twisting the ring, as if I’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t. His expression grew blanker, a feat I hadn’t known was possible. “It belonged to my mother. The only thing of hers I own.”
Belonged. Past tense. She’d died? How special the ring must be to him. He probably thought of his mother every time he handled it, the way I so often remembered my father.
Chest aching, I reached for my necklace. My fingers closed around air, and I swallowed a mewl. What I wouldn’t give for the coin’s return.
Mr. Callen Bruce and I had more in common than we’d realized.
New topic. “The day after our wedding, I almost voiced that which should not be mentioned.” Soul switching. I bit my bottom lip. What are you doing? Stop! But I didn’t stop. Great risk, great reward. I sought information, and this was my chance to get it. “You inferred I would be executed if I wasn’t really Isobel Campbell.”
“Bruce,” he grated.
“Right. Isobel Bruce.”
“I didn’t hear a question.”
“Speaking hypothetically, why execute me, but not the real Isobel Campbell-Bruce?”
“Who says I wouldn’t execute you both?”
I double blinked. “Would you? For all you know, I’m an innocent woman trapped in the body of a vicious redhead with admittedly brilliant taste in dogs.”
He traced a fingertip along the edge of a coffee mug, his attention glued to me. “Soul switching is a dark art long abandoned, forever forbidden, and best forgotten. Those who participated, whether by will or force, became tainted and had to be eliminated.”
Finally! Facts! But… “You’d really kill an innocent as well as your long-awaited mate?”
He smiled at me for the first time, stealing my breath. Never had I beheld such a cold display of anticipation. “Yes, but you’d die, regardless. The first occasion I lost control of my temper, you would fail to calm me, and I’d strike, unaware of my actions.”
Yikes! He was so sexy right now. Er, scary. Very, very scary. No wonder Isobel had traded lives with an American and not a fellow Scot. The farther away, the better.
“Well,” I muttered and gulped. “Thank goodness I’m Isobel, able to soothe your inner beastie.” If I were home, and me, this was the point I would run for the hills and never look back.
“Yes. Thank goodness. From the beginning, I made it clear. To enjoy the perks of being wed to me, you must deal with the hassle. That hasn’t changed.”
“Aha! So you admit being with you is a hassle.” I focused on teasing him rather than the terror he’d attempted to plant in my heart with his words.
His nostrils flared.
Whatever happened, I must keep him calm. “What is it you want?” I asked.
“To have never met you,” he offered easily.
Ouch. Another stinger. I slunk down in my chair as he held up two fingers. A signal of some sort. A woman rushed over to give him a glass of whiskey before she returned to the shadows, fading into the background.
Hard liquor at breakfast? Isobel wasn’t the only one wreaking havoc in this man’s life.
He sipped the beverage and stared at me, his expression darkening. “You bewitched my brother,” he told me softly, fiercely, “but you will not bewitch me.”
As if I didn’t know that. “What makes you think I didn’t truly love him?”
“That’s easy.” He drained his glass, ice cube clinking. “You have no heart.”
Okay, enough with the insults. “At least I’ve changed for the better since the wedding. Can you say the same?” Red alert! Antagonizing!
Buzz strode into the room, bringing a distraction and a boatload of aggression. “A messenger sent by Tavish waits at the gate,” he announced.
Tavish? Who was Tavish? The words nearly rolled off my tongue. With the threat of execution regarding my true identity ringing in my head, I swallowed the question. Did Isobel know Tavish?
Callen reacted as if a bomb had been discovered in the castle. Red flickered in his irises. This time, I wasn’t flabbergasted or frightened, just concerned for his wellbeing. What did that say about me?
He tossed his napkin on the table and sprang to his feet. “Escort Isobel to her room.” Icy rage underscored his tone. “Remain at her door. Do not leave for any reason.”
I was to be locked in like a child? “What’s going on?”
Buzz approached me and reached out, offering his hand. I brushed it aside and stood.
“Leave, Isobel,” Callen demanded, inserting a clip in a gun.
My nerves sang. Where had he gotten those parts so quickly, without moving away from the table?