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“No.” I shake my head. “Love is fleeting. It comes, and it goes. It’s lust wrapped up in a pretty bow. It’s a commitment that gets you through. That’s how I see it—and it’s certainly how my father sees it, how the Kings’ table sees it.”
“So that’s all you want out of a marriage? Commitment?”
I take a breath, looking at his emotionless face, wondering what it is that he’s trying to pry out of me. “I’ve known all my life, Connor, that I would marry a McGregor son. I was introduced to the concept of marriage and duty and family legacy since I was nothing but a young girl—told that it was myonlyvalue to the family. I still am told that. My marriage to Liam, or my marriage to you, my ability to secure those unions, is all that matters. Not that I was educated at Harvard, what dreams I might have for my life, or my interests or passions. And yet you men are allowed to have so much more.”
“You went to Harvard?” Connor looks at me keenly, and I laugh.
“My point exactly. You never would have asked, and my father didn’t think it was important enough to mention. My virginity was brought up quickly enough, though.”
Connor moves towards me, his strides quick and lithe and bringing him to within a hand’s length of me before I can react. I’m viscerally aware of how tall he is, how muscular, the spicy scent of his cologne, and the faint tang of exhaust and gasoline from his bike wafting off of him towards me. His blue eyes pierce mine as he looks down at me, his sinfully full lips curving up on one side in a smirk.
“And are you, Saoirse O’Sullivan?” he asks in that rich Gaelic accent, rolling my name over his tongue. “A virgin?”
The things that tongue could probably do to me.
I force the thought away, ignoring the quiver between my thighs. “I am,” I say firmly. “As I said, it’s been drilled into me from a young age where my value is and what it’s meant for.” I can’t stop the hint of sarcasm in my voice at that, but Connor doesn’t seem to notice.
“So you lied, back in the warehouse?”
“Haven’t you ever lied for the greater good,William Davies?”I look up at him pointedly, not missing a beat.
“And you think this is the greater good?” Connor doesn’t flinch back, and the way he’s looking at me makes my heart skip a beat in my chest.
“I’m pleased that you seem to think that whatIthink matters. But yes.”
“Is it revenge? For Liam not marrying you?”
I hesitate. Part of me has wondered that, too, if I was happy enough to go along with my father’s plan because I wanted to hurt Liam. “I’d be a liar all over again if I didn’t say that Liam’s actions hurt me,” I say quietly. “Rejection isn’t pleasant for anyone. But this is about more than my hurt feelings. It’s about a legacy, about family, about duty. And I will say this—Liam did hurt me, and he did insult me, but unlike others, I don’t believe that means he deserves to die for it. And hewilldie for it,” I emphasize, “unless you come home to stop it.”
Connor lets out a harsh breath, looking down at me. “So I’m to believe you, then? That my brother never touched you, nor any other man? That if I come back and marry you, I’ll be getting a virgin bride and a seat at the head of the Irish Kings, along with my brother’s life, in exchange for leaving all of this?”
It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. “I can’t prove it to you, Connor,” I tell him, a bit snappishly. “But I’m untouched, yes.”
He eyes me curiously. “Didn’t you ever want to lose it? After all, like you said earlier, the men around you certainly get to do as they please.” He moves a fraction closer to me, those full lips still smirking down at me as he closes in, the chair at the back of my calves, and nowhere else for me to go. “I’vecertainly done as I pleased. I assure you, Saoirse, I’m far from pure—and as for my brother and his exploits before this Russian girl you mentioned—”
“I don’t need to hear about that,” I snap before he can go further and start describing actual acts to me. Not only do I feel a small, surprising flare of jealousy at the thought of Connor with another woman, the thought of him describing the—no doubt filthy—things he’s done with women in the past has my skin tingling in ways that I know makes being here alone with him all the more dangerous, the ache between my thighs intensifying and reminding me that less than an hour ago, Connor had his fingers in my panties, touching, rubbing—
“No,” I manage, forcing the memory of Connor’s fingers out of my head. “I didn’t particularly want to lose it.”
Connor looks slightly surprised. “Why not?” he asks, genuine curiosity in his voice, and it helps ease back some of the tension between us.
I shrug, feeling briefly as if I can breathe again. “I didn’t see any point in giving it away to some other man out of sheer rebellion,” I tell him honestly. “I was always destined to marry either your brother or you, and you’re both close in age to me—you what, five years older? And Liam is my age. You’re both handsome enough. I didn’t see a reason to deprive either of you of the chance to deflower me and risk lesseningmychances of making a good marriage for my family just to screw some college frat boy who probably doesn’t even know where my clitoris is.”
Connor’s eyes go wide at that, and he laughs out loud. It’s a sharp, abrupt sound as if he hadn’t expected me to say something funny, his face as startled at the laugh that bursts out of him as I am. “I’m glad you find mehandsome enough,” he says dryly, his voice low as those bright eyes fix onto mine again. “Although I think earlier, in my warehouse and in the elevator, you found me more than just that. And—” he leans closer, bending so that his lips are close to my ear, his breath warm against the shell of it and sending tingles down my spine, “I think you have plenty of evidence now to suggest that I knowexactlywhere your clit is, Saoirse.”
Oh god.The ripple of pure lust that tears through me is enough to make my knees weak and feel slightly dizzy. I duck away from him and the chair he’d boxed me against, taking a step back to collect myself.
“I know how this goes,” I say firmly. “I didn’t bother losing my virginity to someone else because, quite simply, the rebellion wasn’t worth it. I was raised in this life, Connor, and I’m committed to doing my duty. I’m the daughter of Graham O’Sullivan, from a family of Dublin O’Sullivans. For generations, the men of my family have sat at the right hand of the Irish King. From the shores of the Irish Sea to the cliffs of Corrán Tuathail, I’m an Irishwoman through and through. No one but you or your brotherdeservedmy virginity, Connor. And your brother proved himself unworthy of it as well.” I look up at him defiantly, ignoring the racing of my heart. “I’ve grown tired of this game, Connor. What about you? Will you prove yourself the same?”
Connor looks at me, and I could swear that I see a spark of admiration in his eyes, though I could be imagining it. “Like I told your father, Saoirse, I’ve built something here. Everything that I could need—power, money, respect—I have it here, and I’ve built it on my own, without a name to trade on. As far as a woman—” he smirks. “I’ve no particular interest in virgins, and I have no particular interest in marrying, either—nor do I need to, in order to keep what I’ve built here. You might call me a playboy, but Ienjoymy lifestyle. I have no desire to be tied down.”
I grit my teeth, refusing to back down. “I know you’ll do as you please in our marriage,” I say archly, refusing to let him see any reaction at the thought of him in another woman’s bed. “I’m aware of how men like you and my father and your brother behave. My only condition is that you are discreet—that you’re respectful to our family and me and keep your mistresses away from us.Unlikeyour brother.”
Connor frowns, a hint of irritation creeping into his expression. “I don’t think you understand, Saoirse,” he says sharply. “I don’t need your permission to do as I please. I do what I wantnow,here, in this city. There are no restrictions on me. I am the master of my own domain, and my men follow me out of respect, love, loyalty, and no other reason. I’m not interested in going back to what I left behind—the hierarchy of the Kings, the wife, the children, the bloodyexpectations.” He shakes his head. “Here, there’s none of that. There’s no table to please. They follow me for me. I’m not expected to carry on a family name—William Davies is no one of consequence, his own man. If I have a bastard son who wants it and who gains the same respect, I’ll pass it down. If not, then the son of one of my other gang members will take over when I’m gone—and I don’t plan tobegone for a long time.”
This time, I can’t help rolling my eyes. “What if you have a bastard daughter?” I ask sarcastically, and Connor smirks, moving towards me again with that same graceful purpose, that predatory look in his eyes that tells me exactly what he’d like to do with me.
It would be so much easier if he weren’t so handsome, or if this new side to him repulsed me instead of making me feel strangely, dangerously aroused, as if he’s awakening a part of me that I never knew was within me before. Everything about him now, from the scent of him to the burning look in his eyes, the way he looms over me, and the power and strength that I can feel coiled inside of him, makes me feel as if I’m lit up from the inside out, my defiance of his attitude completely at war with my own desires.
