No.It felt like wanting something he was never supposed to have.But instead, he gave another nod and focused on rowing.
For a time, she said nothing, simply staring at the horizon.A shadow seemed to cross her face when he kept them clear of Ennisleigh and continued rowing west.It hadn’t escaped his notice that the last time they had been in a boat together, he’d intended to kidnap her then, too.
‘Balor, could I ask you a question?’she asked softly.He turned to look at her, and sadness seemed to slide across her face.‘Why did your mother marry Fergus if she loved someone else?’
He hadn’t wanted to think of it.For so long, he’d believed the story she’d told—that a soldier had attacked her.All her life, Orla had been withdrawn from everyone.He’d assumed it was because of the attack, not because she’d lost someone—his father.
He’d suspected that she hadn’t loved Fergus, that she’d married him out of desperation instead of desire.‘I suppose she thought she didn’t have a choice.Especially if she was pregnant with me.’
‘Did Fergus know about her pregnancy when he married her?’
‘Maybe.She didn’t marry him right away, and she let him believe she’d been attacked.’He stared out at the sea, silencing the rise of his own questions.‘But he knew I wasn’t his son.’
And Fergus had blamed him for Orla’s anguish.
It didn’t matter if Orla had loved a Norman, years ago.She’d made her choices and so had his real father.Balor didn’t want anything to do with the man who had abandoned both of them.
‘She should have left Fergus years ago,’ he finished.Although part of him understood that she’d also been left behind, it angered him that Orla had never stood up to her husband.At least, not until the day when Fergus had lost his temper, blaming Balor for something he hadn’t done.
His mistake had been trying to defend himself and fight back.Fergus had struck him, and without thinking, Balor had pushed the chieftain away.After that, he had little memory of what had happened, aside from the vicious beating and losing consciousness.His mother had somehow stopped Fergus—and after that, she’d sent Balor away to England.
Before that night, she’d always shied away from conflict, trying to talk Fergus out of it.But words had never been enough.
Mairead drew her knees up, studying him.‘I can understand why you wanted my father to depose him as chieftain and put your brother in his place.’
‘Anyone is better than Fergus.’
She gave a single nod.‘After we find my brother and bring him home, I will find a way to help you.’He gave no response, for he didn’t know if that was even possible.But then she tilted her head and regarded him.‘Why don’t you want to become the chieftain yourself?’
He hardly knew how to answer that.He’d never even considered it in all these years.After he’d left home, he’d never imagined wanting to come back to Dunmalus.It had never been a true home to him.
He’d grown up in the shadows, feeling like no one caredabout him.As a child among the Ó Phelans, he’d been told for years that he was unworthy because of his birthright.He couldn’t simply ignore the years of believing he was less than the others and suddenly decide he wanted to be a leader.They would never accept him.And perhaps that was the easiest answer to give.
‘Because the people would never want a man like me.’
Chapter Eight
Sometime during the night, Mairead became dimly aware that Balor had brought them closer inland.They had slept within the boat with his cloak covering them against the chill.The heat of his body had warmed hers as they remained anchored off the coast.The sea had been calm, lazily drifting against the vessel.
She’d slept hard, comforted by his presence beside her.Balor had slept just as deeply, his arms and legs tangled around her.And she’d found that she didn’t mind it at all.
She didn’t know what to think of this man.He was troubled, born into a family who didn’t want him.And yet, he’d survived.He’d used their neglect to drive him towards becoming a different man, someone strong and confident.
Unlike her suitors, he had not been born into a life of wealth or status.He’d clawed his way from nothing into a man who had become a strong warrior.She couldn’t help but admire that.
But even more, with every moment at his side, her attraction grew stronger.Being so close to Balor had only made it worse.Right now, Mairead was fully aware of his body and the position of his hand so close to her breast.Against her spine, she could feel the hard shaft that madeher grow soft and weak with wanting him.Was it so wrong to desire a man’s touch?
Mairead slowed her breathing, wondering if she dared confess her longing.She pushed her backside against him and didn’t miss the tension in his body when she felt the rigid evidence of his need.He didn’t speak a word, behaving as if he were still asleep.But his hand was perilously close to her breast.She shifted slightly until his fingers were upon the curve.
‘Are you wanting something,a mhuirnín?’he whispered against her ear.
Yes.But she was afraid of what he might think of her if she was honest.He was so wrong for her…and yet, her body wasn’t listening to her mind.She craved a moment for herself, despite all the reasons it was wrong.
Silently, she took Balor’s hand and brought it beneath her tunic, loosening it until his hand cupped her bare breast.His thumb brushed against the erect nipple, and she bit her lip, the sensations of desire aching with every stroke.
‘Is this what you want?’He rolled the nipple between his fingers, gripping her waist so she could feel every last inch of him against her backside.
It was, but she didn’t dare say it.There was a part of her that yearned to be touched, to feel like a woman instead of a king’s daughter.She knew this wasn’t fair to use him.But he also didn’t seem to mind.
