Lady Mairead took a step closer, and the scent of her skin flooded the air with a hint of rose.Balor wanted to bury his face in her hair before capturing that mouth again.Damn her for giving him a taste of forbidden fruit.
‘You look…better than the last time I saw you,’ he said roughly.The words weren’t the compliment he’d meant to say, but whenever he was around her, he couldn’t quite form the words he wanted to.
‘So do you.’She didn’t seem at all nervous, and there was a hint of amusement in her voice.‘I’m glad you decided not to cause a war between our families.’
‘There’s still time.’
At that, a slight smile tilted at her lips.‘Are you as bad as they say you are?’
The words felt like a challenge, and he rested one hand on the wall beside her.‘Far worse.’He needed her to remember that he wasn’t one of her suitors.He wasn’t here to win her affections or even her hand in marriage.
Her smile faded.‘Then why are you here?’
‘Your nephew wants me to teach him how to use a blade.Marcas believed he owed me a debt and thought I wanted to see you alone.’
Her face had gone pale, but she lifted her chin.‘But you don’t, do you?’
‘I didn’t at first.’He took advantage of his position and traced the line of her jaw with his thumb.When she exhaled, her eyes staring into his, he murmured, ‘But maybe I’ve changed my mind.’
When she didn’t speak, he continued moving his hand down her nape to her shoulder.‘Why did you kiss me that day, Mairead?’
Color flooded her face.‘It—it was nothing.I just wanted to thank you.I wouldn’t be here today if you hadn’t saved my life.’
‘You did well enough with your blade.’He moved his hand back to her throat, and against his fingers, he felt her pulse beating wildly.
‘Against one man,’ she argued back.
He slid his hand against her braided hair while the other rested against the wall.If she wanted to pull away from him, it was easy enough.But she didn’t move.And he was fascinated by the curve of that mouth, watching her lips part.
‘I remember our kiss,a mhuirnín.Are you wanting me to kiss you again?’He cupped the back of her nape, leaning in close.
A cool blade slid beneath his chin.‘Leave me alone, Balor Ó Phelan.You only want to use me for your own gain.’
He smiled at that and pressed Mairead’s blade away, not even caring that the edge sliced his fingers.‘I’m impressed.’
He expected her to shove him back, but instead, she moved to stand beside him, her shoulder brushing against his as she leaned against the wall.‘Why are you really here?’
‘I told you.My brother, Kenneth, wants to wed you.’
She sheathed her knife.‘There are many men here who want to wed me.’She sent him a sidelong glance.‘Except you, I suppose.’
‘Except me,’ he repeated.‘I have no need to marry.’He also couldn’t provide for a wife, even if he wanted one.
She paused a moment and said, ‘I met your father and brother a little while ago.Fergus said that Kenneth was his only son.Why would he deny you?’
‘Because it’s true.I’m not his son.’
* * *
Mairead didn’t understand what he meant by that.If Balor wasn’t the chieftain’s son, then…
‘Who is your father?’
His demeanour tightened and he shrugged.‘A Norman who attacked my mother during a raid.’
Although his tone remained emotionless, she was starting to understand why he was so estranged from his family.‘I’m sorry.But that wasn’t your fault.’
‘Fergus blames me for it.’He turned to look at her.‘It’s no surprise I’m not welcome among my tribe.’
