“Out here, love is a dangerous thing.”
Hope meets his stare. “So is loneliness.”

“You don’t trust easily,” she tells him.
“Trust gets people killed,” Remy answers.
“Or saved,” she shoots back.

“You don’t believe this can work,” she said.

He shook his head. “Not for a man with my past.”

“Then perhaps you’ve never been given a reason to try.”

“This cabin wasn’t meant for Christmas,” he mutters.

She touches his hand. “Maybe it just needed the right hearts to fill it.”

“What happens when your heart forgets this is pretend?” she asked.

“Then we’re both in more trouble than I bargained for,” he muttered.

“I’m not scared of you,” she whispered.

“That’s the problem,” he said. “You should be.”

But his voice was too soft to believe it.

“I don’t do feelings,” he muttered.

“I noticed,” she replied. “But I’m staying anyway.”

“Why’d you come all this way?” he asked.

“Because I’d rather risk the unknown than stay unloved,” she said.

“You keep looking at me like I’m a problem,” she said.

“You are,” he muttered.

“Then maybe I’m the kind of problem you need,” she said, chin raised.

“I came here for peace,” she replied.

“You won’t find it in me,” he warned.

“Maybe not,” she whispered, “but I might find it with you.”

“I don’t want to fall for you,” she admitted.

“Then stop looking at me like you already did,” he said.

“You don’t even want this marriage,” she accused.

“No,” he said, voice low. “But I want you safe.”

She threw up her hands. “You act like caring about people is a weakness!”

His expression darkened. “No. I act like caring about people gets them killed.”

“You think I’m here for your land,” she said, her voice steady.

“No,” he growled, eyes narrowing. “You’re here because I need you—and I don’t like needing anyone.”

“You don’t trust me,” she whispered.

“Trust gets people killed,” he replied, his gaze hard—until it softened. “But you make me want to risk it anyway.”