Page 29 of Irish Rebel
“Well, darling, if I’d known you were so anxious to get me undressed, I’d have cooperated fully, and in private.”
“Shut up. God, Brian, you said it was nothing.”
“It’s not much.”
His definition of not much was a softball-size bruise over the ribs in a burst of ugly red and black. “Macho is tedious, so just shut up.”
He started to grin, then yelped when she pressed her fingers to the bruise. “Hell, woman, if that’s your idea of tender mercies, keep them.”
“You could have a cracked rib. You need an X ray.”
“I don’t need a damned—ouch! Bollocks and bloody hell, stop poking.” He tried to pull his shirt down, but she simply yanked it up again.
“Stand still, and don’t be a baby.”
“A minute ago it was don’t be macho, now it’s don’t be a baby. What do you want?”
“For you to behave sensibly.”
“It’s difficult for a man to behave sensibly when a woman’s taking his clothes off in broad daylight. If you’re going to kiss it and make it better, I’ve several other bruises. I’ve a dandy one on my ass as it happens.”
“I’m sure that’s terribly amusing. One of the men can drive you to the emergency room.”
“No one’s driving me anywhere. I’d know if my ribs are cracked as I’ve had a few in my time. It’s a bruise, and it’s throbbing like a bitch now that you’ve been playing with it.”
She spotted another, riding high on his hip, and gave that a poke. This time he groaned.
“Keeley, you’re torturing me here.”
“I’m just trying...” She trailed off as she lifted her head and saw his eyes. It wasn’t pain or annoyance in them now. It was heat, and it was frustration. And it was surprisingly gratifying. “Really?”
It was wrong, and it was foolish, but a sip of power was a heady thing. She trailed her fingers along his hip, up his ribs and down again, and felt his muscles quiver. “Why don’t you stop me?”
His throat hurt. “You make my head swim. And you know it.”
“Maybe I do. Now. Maybe I like it.” She’d never been deliberately provocative before. Had never wanted to be. And she’d never known the thrill of having a strong man turn to putty under her hands. “Maybe I’ve thought about you, Brian, the way you said I would.”
“You pick a fine time to tell me when there’s people everywhere, and your father one of them.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s true, too. I need that buffer, I guess.”
“You’re a killer, Keeley. You’d tease a man to death.”
He didn’t mean it as a compliment, but to her it was a revelation. “I’ve never tried it before. No one’s ever attracted me enough. You do, and I don’t even know why.”
When she dropped her hand, he took her wrist. It surprised him to feel the gallop of her pulse there, when her eyes, her voice had been so cool, so steady. “Then you’re a quick learner.”
“I’d like to think so. If I come to you, you’d be the first.”
“The first what?” Temper wanted to stir, especially when she laughed. Then his mind cleared and the meaning flashed through like a thunderbolt. His hand tightened on her wrist, then dropped it as though she had turned to fire.
“That scared you enough to shut you up,” she observed. “I’m surprised anything could render you speechless.”
“I’ve...” But he couldn’t think.
“No, don’t fumble around for words. You’ll spoil your image.” She couldn’t think just why his dazed expression struck her as so funny, or why the shock in his eyes was endearing somehow.
“We’ll just say that, under these circumstances, we both have a lot to consider. And now, I’m way behind in my work, and have to get ready for my afternoon class.”
