Page 44 of The Winter Laird
“We are not enemies,” he said softly against her lips, dropping feathered kisses across them. Moving across her jaw and up to her ear, he whispered each word with a kiss. “You. Are. Not. My. Enemy.”
She shivered.
He ran his tongue over her neck while trailing his fingers up her skirts. Her answer was incoherent; she felt his smile against her neck. Distantly, she heard a bang, then another.
“Nioclas,” she managed before his lips claimed hers again.
The banging grew more insistent.
“I shall kill whomever it is with my hands,” he growled into her mouth. Reluctantly releasing her, he helped her tie her gown, then smoky-gray eyes met sapphire blue ones. “We will finish this.” Nioclas flung open the door. “What?” he barked.
“We need to speak with you immediately.”
“Who?”
“Your brother and I.”
Brianagh sneaked a peak around the door and sighed heavily when she saw Donovan and Aidan. They didn’t look like they were going anywhere, but that was probably a good thing. She lost all her senses when Nioclas touched her, and she reminded herself that she really didn’t want to go down that path with him.
Really. She was sure of it.
“I have to talk to Cook, anyway,” she said as she tried to walk out the door.
Nioclas caught her by the arm, and his stormy eyes burned into hers. “We will finish our discussion tonight,” he said evenly, but the promise was clear.
She wrenched herself free and stormed out of the chamber, trying—unsuccessfully—to slam the door behind her. She sagged against the cool stone of the hallway.
What was that?she thought, covering her face with her hands and letting out a shudder. She choked back a sob as she tried to calm herself. Why did he have to kiss even better in real life? He was absolutely irresistible in her dreams, and he was frighteningly seductive outside of them.
Nioclas was the only man who ever stoked a response like that from her. She’d thought herself incapable of passion for her entire life. Now, with just a few kisses and touches…Brianagh was in serious trouble.
She couldn’t stay in medieval Ireland, but when her head was fogged with passion, she had a difficult time remembering why.
* * *
“The morning after your wedding,I sent for O’Malley,” Donovan said flatly.
“Why?” Nioclas asked. “I have no alliance with the O’Malleys.”
“I believe it’s time to know more about your lady-wife.”
Aidan almost spit his ale across the table. Nioclas merely raised a brow. He figured Donovan would come to him sooner or later. They worked together in all things, from battle to clan settlements. He would be suspicious had Donovan not raised concerns, but his timing was, as ever, awful.
“You interrupted my wife and me because you wish to know her better?” Nioclas asked mildly.
“Dammit, Nick, she’s not who she says she is! You told me you thought her from France. She says she’s never been. Her accent is strange, and though she speaks Gaelic, she also speaks the peasant’s English! When I took her to the village today, she used a curious mix, and I don’t think she knew she was doing it. She used words likekidding, but I couldn’t understand the reference to goats at all.”
“So,” Reilly drawled from the door, a bored look gracing his features and his arms crossed. “You’re upset because she isn’t from France and made an obscure reference to goats. You had me travel all the way across Ireland, in November, just because you don’t have enough information about a lass?”
Donovan ignored him and directed his attention to Nioclas. “The English crown wants your allegiance. Burke wants you dead, as do many lairds, including Kildare, Clanricard, MacDermott, Cavan…the list is endless. Yet you marry an unknown lass, with an unknown history, on the word of an O’Rourke. It doesn’t make sense, Nick.Shedoesn’t make sense.” He turned to Reilly. “You owe us answers.”
Reilly closed the door and stood by the fire, warming himself. “Ask,” came the reply as Reilly blew on his hands. “But get me something hot to drink. It’s freezing out there.”
“Where is she from?” Donovan demanded.
“America.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
