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)
“Prove it then,” he offered coldly.
Okay. “At your office, I sat on your lap, and we spoke about–”
“I found the bug under my desk. Next.”
Come on! Seriously? “In the privacy of our bedroom–”
“I found the bug in the light fixture. Next.”
Sweet goodness. Sorcha really had planned for everything. “Nothing I say is going to convince you of the truth, is it?”
“No. So let’s try this again.” He shoved the words past clenched teeth. “And do not lie to me. You won’t like what happens.”
Trepidation blistered my nape, but I didn’t back down. “I’m your wife. The one you vowed to love and protect. The woman you marked. But I’m not Isobel. I’m Elizabeth Darcy, exactly as I tried to tell you. An American special ed teacher. Innocent of all wrongdoing. Well, most wrongdoing. I’m also extremely disappointed in you. How can you not see the truth?”
His knees squeezed mine. “The answer is so obvious I shouldn’t have to state it. Since you’re pretending not to understand, I’ll explain. Tavish sent you on a suicide mission. Convince me of a soul switch, so I kill you as well as my wife. What else would ensure my eternal misery?”
Argh! Like Sorcha, Callen had an answer for everything. “There’s a way to settle this. Kiss me,” I grated. “I doubt Sorcha can fake being me. Or rather, fake being me while I faked being Isobel. Whatever. Just kiss me. If you dare.”
A muscle ticked beneath his eye. “Kiss you, so I betray my wife and dishonor my vows, becoming someone I despise?”
He’d told me something similar when he denied having a mistress. I’d gotten my first glimpse of berserker honor that day. Yes, I admired him for it. No, I wouldn’t back down. “Kissing me isn’t a betrayal of her, you stubborn man, but kissing her will be a betrayal of me.”
He scowled with anger so sharp I felt the cut soul deep.
Let’s try this a new way. “Why didn’t you kill me in or even out of a rage already? I thought you didn’t converse with wolves and their minions.”
The muscle beneath his eye ticked harder. “Exceptions are sometimes made.”
“Yes, but why make this one?” My pulse leapt. Sorcha had accused me of not seeing the big picture. Was I possibly…
I almost didn’t dare think it, but new hope swelled in my chest anyway. Was I, Elizabeth Darcy, Callen Bruce’s fated all along? He’d sensed the bond with Isobel, yes, feeling as if he floated on a sea of calm, but maybe he’d only felt that way because I would one day take her place. What if the mate bond ignited for me?
Blood raced through my veins, and my fingers stroked the spot on my hand he’d sliced with a blade. Only, the mark was on Isobel’s body, which Sorcha currently possessed. Proving myself would be more difficult than I’d realized. But no matter.
I squared my shoulders in determination. Oh, he may be a berserker with unfathomable strength and wild rage, but he hadn’t seen a Darcy woman determined to win her man.
“I bet I’m alive because part of you suspects something is off,” I purred, letting my love for him flow through me unchecked. “If she’s your fated, let her prove it. Let yourself go full berserk around her. See what happens. See if she soothes you or if you need me.”
His eyes slitted, his top and bottom lashes nearly interweaving “You still hope I’ll kill her.”
“If she’s who you say she is, that shouldn’t be a worry for either of you.”
He gripped the arms of the chair, his knuckles bleaching of color, and slid his gaze over me. His irises heated. Boiled. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe.
Then he growled, “You were all but plucked from the fantasies of my beast.”
Aches erupted throughout my body. “You desire me.” Badly. The knowledge went straight to my head. Instantly drunk on the most delicious power, I grinned.
“Desire won’t stop me from killing you once I’ve used you to draw out Tavish,” he vowed softly.
The old adage was right. Truth really did make you free because his words bothered me not a bit. My grin widened. “You’re not going to kill or use me. I bet Sorcha-masquerading-in-Isobel’s-body has begged you to kill me, but here you sit, flirting with me instead.”
“Why wouldn’t she want you dead? You tried to kill her.”
“You can’t harm me, husband. I’m your firebrand.” And he was my dream guy.
“Enough!” he boomed, standing. The chair skidded behind him, crashing into the wall. Wood shards shot in every direction. He was panting, his hands fisted.
To my astonishment, fear remained at bay. But anger didn’t. I narrowed my eyes. “Is the temper tantrum really necessary? Or can you act like a civilized adult for a few more moments and finish this interrogation?”
“I suggest you stop talking.” He flicked the tip of his tongue against an incisor. “For the time being, you are safe.” He leaned forward and removed my shackle with a yank. “You will stay here until I decide how to handle you.”