Page 101 of Dark Rival

Both women condemned him for the interlude with the Queen, he thought grimly. And he hadn’t done anything except make empty promises and play her. “She was to stay on the island,” he told Malcolm’s wife.

Claire shrugged. “If Joan had come to see—and use—Malcolm, I would stop it.”

“Yer husband would do what he had to do to save his head—an’ yers,” Royce said coolly.

Claire smiled grimly. “Good luck. You need it.” She walked out.

He finally looked at Ailios. She threw a mug at his head.

He ducked and it clattered on the floor. “So ye disobey even MacNeil?”

“Were you going to tell me that you and the Queen are lovers?” she cried, flushed.

He felt his own color rise. “The affair is purely a matter o’ politics,” he began.

“Oh! Forgive me! Screwing her brains out is so very political!”

“I haven’t been in her bed in months—in almost a year,” he said grimly.

“I saw everything,” she cried.

He softened because she was so hurt. “Then ye saw nothing at all,” he said flatly.

She made a sound.

He just looked at her and saw tears rise. Impossibly he wanted her to understand; impossibly he wanted to take her in his arms. “Ailios, I dinna wish to bed her. Yer the woman I want in my bed.”

She made another sound. “That’s not what I saw.”

“I dinna do anything except play her!” he cried. “She’s my liege. Do ye think I can refuse her easily? If yer King wanted it, ye’d go to his bed an’ act pleased about it!”

“We don’t have a King!”

“Then yer fortunate. Here, there are royals, an’ even now, Joan may decide to take my head. She’s nay very pleased.”

Ailios hugged herself. “You’re with me,” she finally said, trembling.

He hesitated, almost ready to agree. “We canna be together. Last night was the proof. I willna hurt ye, ever, an’ I willna take away yer great power again.”

“You’ve already hurt me, Royce,” Ailios said.

He trembled, very close to crossing the room and sweeping her into his arms. “I dinna do as she wished. I dinna want her. I was thinking of ye, Ailios, not her, but I dinna wish to enrage her. I wish to keep my head.”

She stared, her dark gaze searching.

“I have never lied, not once in all my life,” he added softly.

She turned away, wiping her eyes, and she had never appeared as fragile or as vulnerable. The urge to protect her overcame him. She did not belong in this miserable time. Why did she have to love him? It was impossible, forbidden, and he was unworthy of her.

But even knowing all of that, he cared. He cared that she didn’t really understand what he had done and why he had done it, and he cared that she understand how much he wanted her and that he had been acutely aware of her, the entire time during the encounter with Joan. He gave in and crossed the room.

She started.

He cupped her elbows. “Lass, I wish to avoid Joan. But again, I willna lie. To save my head, I will go to her bed.”

Ailios inhaled. “Can she really execute you for refusing her?”

“Ailios, the Queen has ordered many beheaded for far less. Her will is law in Alba. I dinna ken yer world, but t’is the way of this world.”