It was as light as a summer breeze upon his skin and just as brief.But Balor held her wrists captive, staring at her as the boat drifted.Though he knew this wasn’t at all a good idea, he leaned in and stole a kiss of his own, taking her lips gently.Mairead froze in place while he explored that gorgeous mouth, softly claiming what she’d never intended to give.
And then, tentatively, she began to kiss him back.A groan caught in his throat, but he forced himself to gentle his grip on her wrists.She moved her palms up to his chest, as if she knew how forbidden this was.
He craved more of her, wanting to take her face between his hands.But when her arms went around his neck, he grew aware of how close they were to her father’s fortress.This wasn’t meant to be.
He took her arms away from him, stared hard into those innocent green eyes and said, ‘Until I see you again, Lady.’
Then he dived off the boat and began swimming back to shore.
* * *
Late Summer
‘Are you certain you want to do this?’her mother asked.‘There’s no need to host anaenachto choose a husband so soon.Especially after…everything you endured.It could simply be a celebration.’
Though it had been nearly two moons since the Norman attack, Mairead had let her family believe she’d fought her way back to Ennisleigh alone.They had sent dozens of men after her, but by the time they caught up to her, she was already home.
No one knew about Balor’s intervention, and something told her to keep that a secret.Her family wouldn’t believe her if she’d told them the Demon of Éireann had rescued her.After she’d talked him out of kidnapping her, that is.
And yet… Balor had listened to her in the end and brought her back.Which meant maybe he was a man worthy of redemption.And now enough time had passed that she could invite his brother among all the other suitors and keep her promise.
‘It will give me the chance to meet more suitors from all across Ireland.’Mairead kept her tone bright, even though it was a brave face to push aside her uneasiness.
‘That’s true,’ her father agreed.‘And King John has also sent a few of his noblemen.’He exchanged a guarded look with Isabel, one that Mairead didn’t quite understand.A few weeks ago, her father and his brothers had brought their forces north to greet King John.Although Patrick had claimed they had gone north to swear fealty, she suspected it was a show of force to answer for the Norman attack—and remind the king of their alliance and their strength in numbers.
It made her wonder if part of that alliance was meant tobe through her marriage.Was her father implying that she was expected to choose one of the king’s men?
Even now she still didn’t trust the Normans.Though she was trying to behave as if everything was normal, she still awakened at all hours of the night, remembering the moment she had ended the soldier’s life.It haunted her, not because of what she’d had to do—but because of how easy it had been to kill him.In that moment, the choice had transformed her.And she didn’t know how to go back to being the maiden she’d been.
Or even if she wanted to.
But shedidwant a husband and a family of her own, and this was probably the best way to get acquainted with possible matches.Perhaps the best way to remove the fear was to face it.
She smoothed her light blue silk gown and stood, pretending as if his words didn’t bother her.‘I will consider the king’s men, as well as the others.’Then she asked, ‘Are all of the preparations ready for tonight?’
‘Your mother has everything in hand.’Patrick sat back in a large wooden chair, his gaze suddenly turning thoughtful as Isabel came close and rested her hand on his shoulder.He softened and added, ‘I have always hoped that we would live long enough to see you married.’
Her emotions tightened within her as she approached.‘Please don’t talk like that, Father.’
‘You were a gift to your mother and me,’ he said softly.‘An unexpected one.’His tone turned to one of sadness.
‘And a blessing,’ Isabel agreed.‘The healer told me I would never bear another child.And then you came when I was past forty.’She shook her head in wonder.‘We never imagined such a miracle.’
Mairead came and drew a stool up beside them.To anyoneelse, Patrick and Isabel appeared old enough to be her grandparents.But she’d always adored them both.Seeing the way they loved one another was something she wanted for herself.She wanted a man to look at her the way her father looked at her mother.
And although Isabel claimed that Mairead’s father had despised her when they’d first met, Mairead didn’t believe that for a moment.‘I will meet the suitors, and if there is anyone I wish to wed, then we will set the betrothal,’ she told them.
‘After you choose a husband, I’m going to step down as king,’ Patrick said.‘It’s long past time Liam took my place.’
A sudden rise of fear caught her, but she pushed it back.She didn’t really know why her father hadn’t given up the throne years ago.Though most people said it was because Patrick was their most beloved king, she wondered whether her brother, Liam, would truly take the throne.Liam had been namedtánaiste, the heir to the kingship.And yet, there was always a chance that the people could select someone else to reign over the lands.Provincial kings were chosen from among the people.
Mairead said nothing, not wanting to worry her father.‘Liam will make a good king,’ she said, taking his hand.‘As for my marriage, I am grateful that you’re allowing me the right to choose.’
‘Within reason,’ he said.‘I’ll not let you wed a man who does not honour you.’
His words evoked the memory of the day she’d met Balor Ó Phelan.His kiss still haunted her, even now.It had been both gentle and tempting, coaxing her towards surrender.
It reminded her of Diarmud’s kiss, and the grief rose up again before she pushed it back.Don’t think of him.She’dpaid the price once before, falling in love with a man her father didn’t approve of.
