Page 16 of His Temptation

“True enough. So here’s the last and best—you stay under my protection. The O’Neills make sure neither MI5 nor Sebastian ever touch you.”

Her head snapped up, and she searched his face.

“But there is one, non-negotiable condition.”

“Which is?”

His voice lowered, the next words deliberate, absolute. “You belong to me—no terms, no excuses—for as long as we both shall live.”

Siobhan’s breath caught. She stared at him as if he’d grown two heads. She shook her own and stared again. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“If it makes you feel better to think I’m proposing…” he shrugged.

“Not very romantic Daragh.”

“If you want romantic, it may take a day or so, but you will agree in principle.”

“Agreements made under duress are not legally binding.”

“Perhaps, but then I’ve never much concerned myself with legality.”

The room seemed smaller; the walls pressing in, the fire flickering too bright, too warm. Daragh’s gaze pinned her in place, the heat between them suffocating.

She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms, needing the sharp bite of pain to ground her. “So that’s it? If I agree, you think you own me?”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.

“You want to live?” he asked, his voice dark, unwavering. “Then yes.”

Siobhan hated him. Hated that he had backed her into a corner. Hated that he was right. She had nowhere else to go. Her freedom was an illusion—had probably always been an illusion—an idea she had clung to for too long, pretending she was still in control. Daragh had shattered that illusion with a few well-placed truths.

She sucked in a slow breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “And if I refuse?”

His expression didn’t change. “You could walk out that door.”

Her heart skipped.

“But you won’t get far,” he added, voice smooth, confident. “MI5 will have eyes on this place soon. Maybe they’ll take you. Maybe Sebastian will get to you first.”

Siobhan’s throat tightened. Daragh pushed away from the desk, stepping closer, his presence like a storm rolling in, dark and inevitable.

“Or,” he said again, the word sliding over her skin like silk-covered steel. “You stay. And I keep you safe.”

She wanted to fight him. Wanted to scream, to tell him to go to hell. But instead, she stood there, her entire world closing in,knowing the truth—she had no other choice—and Daragh knew it.

Siobhan’s breath felt tight in her chest as she stared at Daragh, the firelight casting shadows over his sharp, unreadable features. The words he had spoken still echoed in her head, ringing with the weight of finality.

‘You stay under my protection. The O’Neills make sure neither MI5 nor Sebastian ever touch you.’But she would belong to him—now and forever. She didn’t like the way something dark surged through her veins. She tried to tell herself that it was fear, but she knew better. It was arousal.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, her body vibrating with defiance, but beneath that was something else—something darker, more primal, something that made her instincts stir in a way that terrified her.

She lifted her chin, refusing to let him see how deeply his words unsettled her. “And if I say no?”

Daragh didn’t hesitate. “Then you take your chances with the people hunting you.” His voice was cool, effortless, as if this entire conversation was nothing more than a formality.

Siobhan clenched her fists. Bastard. He knew damn well she couldn’t do that. She didn’t let her anger get the best of her. She had negotiated with dangerous men before, and while Daragh O’Neill was a special kind of lethal, he was still a man. And men could be played.

Squaring her shoulders, she pushed past the riot of emotions in her chest and leveled him with a cool, calculated gaze. “You don’t need to own me to protect me.”

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