“We promised not to talk about the past.” He raised a hand to cup her cheek, brushing his thumb along her soft, smooth skin. “I think you’re the one breaking our agreement now.”
He tried to ease the pain he saw on her face but appeared to only be making matters worse.
She lifted her hand to cover his. Maybe he wasn’t doing as poorly as he thought.
Desperate to ease the growing tension, Dallan changed the subject. “How about this,” he ventured. “You can make it up to me by helping the Fianna and keeping it quiet.”
Niamh perked up at that. “How can I help?”
Dallan scanned the room to be certain no one sat near enough to hear his hushed explanation. “We think Brona is hiding something. Cormac wants us to find out what it is.”
“I think Catrin is your best bet there, but I’ll do what I can.”
“Catrin? She wouldn’t betray her mother, even if she knew what she was hiding.”
The corners of Niamh’s perfect lips lifted into an adorable half-smile. “She would, I think, with enough persuading.”
“What do you know that I don’t? Did they say something today?”
Niamh stepped closer, her chest pressing against his own distractingly. “They had an odd sort of argument, almost silent. About Aodh.”
Dallan’s mind sharpened from its haze of Niamh. “Aodh? What did they say?”
“Catrin seemed to think Aodh was in the right, or that Brona wasn’t judging him fairly. They both tread carefully when I was around, hardly spoke at all after that. She wasdefendinghim.”
“But—” Dallan couldn’t understand why she would possibly hold Aodh in any sort of esteem.
“I know,” Niamh agreed. “You’d think she’d hold more of a grudge after he murdered her father, kidnapped her sister, and burned her village to the ground. Which is why I would start by talking withher.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Dallan offered, his lips a breath away from her forehead. “You speak with Catrin about Aodh, and I’ll speak with Cormac about Caiseal.”
“I think I can manage that,” she replied. “Did you need anything else? I think they’re bringing out the meal.”
“I can think of a few things,” he whispered, stepping back before he did something he would regret. He needed to win her trust, not turn back into the boy of nineteen who couldn’t keep himself away from her. “But I’ll leave you to your dinner.”
Even as he reminded himself, for the hundredth time since they’d begun speaking, that she had left him, that she didn’t want him, Dallan couldn’t help but notice the flush in her cheeks or the sensual parting of her lips.
She may not love him, but ’twas clear to Dallan that she still desired him.
And it was a start.
Chapter Sixteen
Niamh swallowed backthe overwhelming urge to throw herself into Dallan’s arms. Again. She’d already done so too many times, and she wasn’t about to put them both in danger of heartbreak. As she neared her seat, she caught pointed looks from Máire and her mother.
“What was that about?” Her mother didn’t hesitate as Niamh sat down with them.
“Nothing. Dallan just wanted to be certain I was feeling better.”
“Did he now?” Her mother didn’t sound surprised in the least. Rather, she sounded entirely too optimistic.
“He was standing awfully close to you,” Máire commented.
“He was?” Niamh pretended ignorance. “I’d hardly noticed.”
“Then why are your cheeks so flushed?” Máire pressed ruthlessly.
Niamh glared at her. “It wasnothing,” she repeated.
