She cocked her head curiously. “To escort me as you said you would?”
He drained his cup. “I am going with you into the belly of the beast,” he said, realizing she had no knowledge of the plans he’d discussed with Shain and the others. “You see, lady, I do not want you going in there alone. I fear that they will never let you go if you do. Therefore, I will go with you. We are to pose as two escaped prisoners from Black Sword’s dungeons, you being Fitzgerald’s fine sister and me being a warrior from an enemy clann. We will tell them I am mute because in that respect, they may trust me more and of course you will validate my presence. You will tell them that I helped you escape and that I have been your mute protector ever since. If you trust me, they will trust me. Then we shall discover what we can and flee. Is this in any way unclear?”
Emllyn was looking at him with wide, astonished eyes. “Are you serious?”
“Of course,” he said. Then, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, his iron grip conveying a thousand silent words of intimidation and foreboding. “If you do not do everything inyour power to convince them I am no threat to them, or if you betray me, know that I have given orders to have every one of the English captives killed. Their lives depend upon your behavior.”
By this time, she was pale with apprehension and fury. “Why do you threaten me?” she asked hoarsely.
Devlin’s jaw ticked. “I tell you the truth. Betray me and everyone dies. Obey me and mayhap you shall discover that your lover is indeed still alive. Are we agreed?”
Emllyn thought about yanking her hand free from his grasp but stopped short. He was holding her so tightly that she would probably snap her wrist in the attempt. His grip was heated, too, and her mind inadvertently turned to those very big hands and how they had touched her body. His big fingers had penetrated her, making her experience things she had never known to exist. Shuddering, she forced away those thoughts and lowered her head. Back came thoughts of Trevor, of the English captives, and of the Irish rebels to whom she was at the mercy of.For God’s sake, now is the time to be totally compliant!
“I will not betray you,” she muttered.
“Swear it on the Blessed Virgin.”
“I swear.”
“Then I believe you.”
“Let go of me now.”
A flicker of humor crossed Devlin’s expression. “Why?”
“Because I have asked you to.”
“And if I do not?”
Emllyn turned her head away. “It would be nothing new.”
“What do you mean?”
She tried to pull away. “When have you ever done anything I asked?”
Devlin was feeling his alcohol. He’d had most of the pitcher and could feel the warmth in his veins.When have you ever done anything I asked? He had never done anything she’dasked. But, then again, it wasn’t her place to ask anything of him. She was the captive and he was her conqueror. The sooner her proud English soul recognized that, the better for them all. God, he could feel his lust for her flushing his veins like a wildfire as he watched her squirm. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman in his life.
Swiftly, he stood up and yanked her to her feet. Emllyn let out a startled cry as he scooped her into his arms and, in three long strides, tossed her onto the bed. Emllyn barely had time to scream before he was on her, his soft lips and bristly beard covering her mouth. His enormous arms wrapped around her body as his mouth suckled her with all shades of lust and glory.
Emllyn tried to avoid his seeking lips, to turn her head, but he would have no part of it. She pushed on his shoulders as he kissed her lustily, sucking the air right out of her.
“Nay,” she breathed when she managed to pull away. “Not when you have been drinking!”
He ignored her as his hands began to roam, tugging at belts and tossing them aside. But Emllyn wasn’t fully compliant yet.
“Your aunt is in the room,” she hissed. “Please, for the love of God, not in front ofher!”
His mouth was forging a blazing trail across her jaw. “She is asleep,” he said breathlessly. “Can’t you hear her snoring?”
Emllyn had no idea if she could hear the woman snoring or not. All she knew was that Devlin intended to take her in front of an audience. She was horrified. As she opened her mouth to protest, he clamped his lips down over hers and kissed her so hard that she nearly lost consciousness.
She couldn’t breathe. She could hardly think. Devlin’s mouth finally released her and she twisted away from him, weakly trying to climb off the bed. Collecting the belt he’d pulled off her waist, the one she had repaired that afternoon, he managed to capture both flailing hands and using the belt, he tied themtogether snuggly. Then he took the tail end of the belt and lashed it to the head of the bed.
Emllyn’s arms were effectively trapped but she didn’t give up the fight. She tried to kick him in the groin when he shifted and she barely missed. Devlin pushed himself off of her, rolling over to sit at the edge of the bed. He put out a hand and shook Eefha gently.
“Aintín?” he said gently, waking her. “Go to bed, now. I will see you on the morrow.”
Eefha snorted and shifted on the stool, puffing furiously on the now-cold pipe as a reflexive action of being awoken out of a stone-cold sleep. She grunted and waved Devlin off, standing up wearily and making her way to the door. She never once looked at the bed or noticed Emllyn. The old woman shut the door behind her and Devlin bolted it.
