Constantine wondered how long this slight wisp of a lass had been holding back such a temper? Likely, her whole life. Of all the things he was so ridiculously happy about lately, her confidence in her safety here—enough to argue with his men without fear ofconsequences, made him happiest.
Fionn, and especially his brother were going from repentant to insulted as she went on. “Are ye the ones so concerned that ye will lose without him? What if he isna ready to fight—and he is not! And he gets killed? Will ye take responsibility fer that?”
Geoffry opened his mouth to speak but shut it again when Constantine sat up on his elbows and veered him off his angry path.
“Miss Drummond, thank ye fer havin’ my well-bein’ at heart. I will admit that I am no’ against it.” He ignored Geoffry and Fionn’s quick, startled breaths and stunned expressions at his words and continued. “But bein’ the leader here, I dinna have the luxury of remainin’ in my sickbed—even if ye are sittin’ beside it.” He almost smiled when he caught the brothers out of the corner of his eye, turning to stare at each other. If they believed he cared for her, they would be doubly cautious about how they treated her.
At first, he thought her scalding cheeks were enough to keep her from arguing with him in front of his men, but they soon cooled. “I dinna care if ye are the leader. I willna let ye out of this bed.”
He felt his gaze go warm, almost as hot as her cheeks had been. “How will ye keep me here?”
With a mumble oath, Geoffry spun around to leave and pulled his brother with him.
The door slamming shut snapped Constantine and Miss Drummond out of their reverie, and they looked away from each other.
“Lass.” He returned his attention to her first. He realized while his belly sank and flipped on the way down that he liked looking at her. “I spoke true when I said thank ye fer havin’ my well-bein’ at heart. But when my kin leave to fight, I will be with them.”
“Nae, ye will no’.”
His dark gaze hardened. “Ye insult me.”
“I dinna care,” she let him know, folding her arms across her chest.
He scoffed. “I dinna take orders from ye.”
“Should I beg?”
Was she being serious? Did he see a flash of fear in her eyes? Not fearofhim, butforhis being.
“Nae!” he rushed to tell her. He could not take it if she—
“Please, dinna go, Constantine.”
—begged him. He swallowed and looked into her eyes. “Clever lass.”
She did not respond but let him keep looking.
“I shouldna let ye have such dominion over me.”
“Why no’?” she asked softly, her voice skipping over his ears like a faerie’s laughter.
But he was the one who laughed. “Why not? Because…” He paused, trying to think of a reason to give her. Finally, he came up with one. “Because, if I let ye have me, and I lost ye, it would destroy me. My clan needs me. I canna let myself be destroyed.”
Whatever dreamy thoughts she looked like she was having a moment ago, faded into stunned disbelief. “What?”
He offended her. Damn him. “I didna mean it the—”
“Ye didna mean it?” she repeated coolly.
“I refuse to love again.”
She clenched her jaw.
Why could he not find the right words to tell her? “I’m no’ the hero ye think I am because I protected ye. ’Twouldna be right to let ye lay claim to a heart that barely beats.”
“It beats, Chief,” she corrected him. “I felt it in yer pulse and felt it pressed against me.”
“Hmm?” he asked, his anxious gaze fastened on her. Did she just say…? “Pressed against ye? When was my heart pressed to ye?”
