‘As have I.’ The thought of wringing her devious neck had traversed his imagination a time or two. He kept his posture rigid, not returning any of her false affections. If he shoved her aside, witnesses might claim he’d attacked her a second time.
She misread his intentions and pressed her mouth against his. He did not relax, his body remaining as still as an ancient stone monolith. Deirdre tried to coax a response with her kiss, but he granted her nothing. Unlike Aileen, whose innocent touch had seared him with lust. He wanted her to know that he felt nothing for her.
‘Have you finished?’ he asked mildly. ‘Or will you claim that I took your virtue in front of everyone here?’
She paled. ‘I never meant for my father to—’
‘To what? Discover your lies? He believed you and punished me for it.’
‘I thought he might allow us to wed.’
‘And did you consider that I had no desire to wed you?’ He did not hide his disgust from her. ‘You think your charms impossible to resist?’
Deirdre’s fury mirrored his own. ‘Were you any different, Connor MacEgan? I have heard many women claim that none can resist you, especially in your arms.’ She raised her hands to his chest, stroking his muscles. He stiffened as her touch moved down his arms to his hands.
She held his gnarled right hand in her palm. ‘You cannot be so proud now, can you?’
‘Be gone from my sight, lest you suffer the consequences.’ His anger was held by a spider’s thread, his hands painfully clenched into fists.
Never had he struck a woman, nor even wanted to. But Deirdre was as much to blame as Flynn Ó Banníon. Thankfully, she fled, disappearing into the crowd. She would inform her father of his presence. So be it.
Deirdre Ó Banníon was a woman spurned, and he doubted not that she would do anything to make his life miserable.
Chapter 10
‘Did you expect Connor to be any different than when we were children?’ Riordan asked. He had seen her dismay, watching Connor kiss another woman. Aileen knew it shouldn’t bother her, but only this morn, Connor had teased about wanting her, asking her to join with him.
And sweet saints, she had wanted to. She didn’t know why she had thought he’d changed. But it hurt her deeply. She had begun to hope, for a moment, that he might see her as a woman instead of a friend. Seeing him with the beautiful maiden had been precisely what she needed to close off her mind.
‘Leave the food preparations for a while, Aileen,’ Riordan coaxed. ‘I’ve placed a wager on your behalf.’
‘A wager?’
‘Come and see.’ He took her hand, and Aileen allowed him to pull her toward the games. A gentle smile edged his face, and she forced herself to grant him her attention. Though he did not make her blood race the way Connor did, Riordan was a steady man.
A fragile wisp of longing brushed at her heart. Didn’t she deserve the man she truly wanted? Was she not worthy of Connor? Why did she have to settle for a comfortable man, when what she wanted was a man to make her come alive?
Her thoughts tangled into a puzzle, for she didn’t want an unfaithful man. Why had Connor kissed the woman? Or had he? She struggled to remember if he had embraced the woman, if he had returned the kiss.
Her anger sharpened. If she allowed Connor into her heart, she could not stand aside while women threw themselves at him. And it would happen. The truth was, she didn’t know if she could trust him. Nor could she trust her heart to hold its distance.
In the centre of a circle, a fierce-looking tribesman flexed his muscles. The man’s dark forked beard gave him a demonic appearance, his strength intimidating.
With a look of pride, Riordan said, ‘I’ll be fighting him for you.’
Aileen didn’t like the notion, not at all. To see men strike blows at one another irritated her. She had no desire to tend broken noses and bleeding knuckles resulting from a needless fight. ‘I do not think you should.’
‘I can win,’ Riordan insisted. ‘And when I do, five silver bracelets will be yours.’
Her stomach twisted, but she mustered a smile. ‘I do not need the bracelets.’
‘But you deserve them,’ he said. He reached out to take her hand, and Aileen resisted the urge to pull away. ‘Even if I lose, I win. For I’ll have a beautiful healer to tend my wounds.’ He raised her hand to his lips. The soft kiss made her feel empty inside, for she felt nothing.
At that moment, Connor appeared in the crowd, a head taller than most of the folk. His dark gold hair was pulled back with a leather thong. Grey eyes stared at her, heated with intent. Her heart beat a little faster, her skin prickling. Even if a thousand people surrounded her, still she would sense his presence.
Beneath his gaze, her anger warmed. He had kissed her this morn, offering a tumble as though she were nothing more than a serving wench. In contrast, Riordan wanted her as his bride.
She broke away from Connor’s stare and pulled Riordan toward her. She held her hand against Riordan’s auburn beard, pressing a kiss upon his cheek. ‘For luck,’ she offered.
