Page 48 of His Temptation

Finn snorted. "Good luck with that."

Daragh ignored him. He had already accepted that Siobhan would fight him every step of the way. But she had surrenderedto him last night, not just in bed, but in ways she probably didn’t even realize yet.

And if Sebastian Wolfe thought he could still claim her? Daragh would make sure the bastard didn’t live long enough to regret his mistake.

The moment Daragh stepped into the bedroom, he knew Siobhan was already on the offensive. She stood by the open window; the moonlight casting a silver glow over her skin, her arms crossed, her entire posture rigid with defiance. The robe she had hastily wrapped around herself after their last confrontation was tied tightly at her waist, but it did nothing to hide the fire in her eyes.

She was furious. Too bad.

It didn’t change a damn thing.

"You need to listen to me, kitten," he said, his voice steady but firm as he shut the door behind him. "You’re not stepping foot outside this estate until Wolfe is dead."

Her hands clenched against her arms. "So I’m just supposed to sit here and let you make all the decisions for me?"

"Yes."

Her breath hitched, and for a second, he thought she might launch herself at him claws first.

"That’s not how this works, Daragh," she hissed. "You don’t get to lock me away like some… some…"

"Mine," he cut in, taking a slow step toward her. "I get to lock you away because you are mine. My wife. My mate. And I won’t let you get yourself killed because you can’t stand not being in control for five damn minutes."

Siobhan’s nails dug into her arms, but she didn’t back away as he moved closer. "You think I don’t know how to handle myself?"

"You think I give a damn if you do?" His voice was ice, but the heat inside him was something far more dangerous. "I know you can fight. I know you can shoot. That’s not the problem. The problem is you think that makes you untouchable. That makes you reckless. And reckless gets you killed."

She swallowed, the words hitting something deep inside her, but her chin lifted stubbornly. "So I’m just supposed to stay here while you and your men do all the work? While MI5 and Sebastian and whatever other monsters are out there hunt me like an animal?"

Daragh’s eyes darkened. "No one is hunting you, Siobhan."

She let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "There’s a two-million-dollar bounty on my head, Daragh. That’s a lot of incentive for people to start looking."

His teeth clenched as he reached out, gripping her jaw, forcing her gaze to stay on him. "Let them come," he growled. "Let every greedy bastard in Europe try their luck. They won’t get within a mile of you before they’re in the ground."

Siobhan’s breath quickened, her pupils dilating as his dominance rolled over her. For a moment, she didn’t speak. Then she whispered, "You can’t protect me from everything."

Daragh’s grip tightened. "Watch me."

Her lips parted, her breath shallow, and for a second, he thought she might give in. That she might let him have this fight. Then he saw it. The flicker of something behind her eyes. The calculation. The moment she decided to continue arguing.

Daragh cursed under his breath and released her, stepping back before he did something he’d regret. "Go to bed, Siobhan."

Her jaw locked, but she didn’t push again. Not yet. She thought she was being clever. Thought she could wait him out, but Daragh had played this game too many times.

SIOBHAN

The house was quiet, just as she had planned. Siobhan slipped from the bedroom, her heartbeat steady, her movements silent as she made her way down the corridor. Daragh thought he could keep her locked away like a possession, but she wasn’t the type to sit and wait for someone else to dictate her fate.

She needed answers, and she wasn’t going to find them trapped behind O’Neill walls.

She had been careful. Had waited long enough for Daragh to believe she had finally given in. She knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t relax, but he would focus on other things—on his meetings, on planning his war.

He wouldn’t expect her to do something he thought would be foolish, which was exactly why it would work. There was information only she could get, and she couldn’t get it from Daragh’s bed.

The guards were in their usual posts, but she had learned the shifts, watched their patterns. She had memorized the routes of patrols, the placement of security cameras, every possible escape path. When she finally slipped past the outer gate, heart pounding, she felt the first real rush of control she’d had since Daragh had come charging into her life.

Daragh didn’t own her. Not in this. At least, not in the way he thought.

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