Page 57 of Beauty and the Thief

“If you answer the door, they won’t know you were sleeping on the floor.”

“Lass, even you’re not so cruel as to make me sleep on the floor without so much as a blanket. What if I forgot to move it? What if we don’t have time? It’s safer to sleep together.” He took one look at her face and held up his hands. “What I mean is—”

“I know what you mean, and I don’t think there’s anything safe about us sharing a bed.” She hissed the last in case anyone was listening.

“If you’re worried I’ll try to take advantage, maybe I should remind you that it was you who kissed me on the ship, so it was.”

Now she stood. “And what was I to do when you were looking at me...” She pointed toward his eyes. “Like you do.”

“You’re as daft as a dog chasing its own tail. I’m looking at you now, lass, and somehow you manage not to tear your clothes off and ravish me.”

She stomped over to him. “Do not patronize me. You know what you did.”

He crossed his arms. “Seems to me you want an excuse for your own behavior. I’ll admit I wanted you. I want you still, but I’m not about to act on that wanting. It’s plain as the day you’re a virgin, and despite the low opinion you might have of me, I don’t seduce virgins. Sure and I don’t seduce any woman. I’ve never had to, and I don’t plan to start.”

She was so angry now that all of her weariness had been forgotten. “Then how do you explain that you kissed me back?”

“Don’t you listen, lass?” He flicked her ear. “I said I want you, and I’m a man, not a...” He looked around the room. “A table. I stopped it before we went too far, so I did.”

“Mr. Kelly,” she seethed, “if you are implying it is I who will seduce you, then you needn’t worry. I can’t think of any man in the whole of England or Ireland I want to seduce less than you.”

“That settles it then.”

“Settles what?”

“We share the bed.”

Before she could argue again, he bent and picked her up. “What are you doing?”

“I didn’t carry you over the threshold. That’s bad luck. I’d better do it now.”

“But we’re not really—”

“Shh!” He opened the door and stepped out with her still in his arms. Down the corridor a little, another door opened and a white-haired woman peered out. “Evening.” Callahan ducked his head in deference then looked down at Bridget, still in his arms. “Ready, lass?”

She was not ready. She’d been full of anger and mortification and righteous indignation before, but when he’d swept her into his arms, all of that had fled away. With his strong arms holding her close to his broad chest, she forgot that she never wanted him to touch her again. His scent pulled at her, and she barely resisted pressing her nose into his chest.

And with the anger gone, she was weary again. Vulnerable to his charm, which though she might deny affected her, was clearly her downfall.

He wanted her. His words on the ship still echoed in her mind.

Christ Jaysus, Bridget. I want you.

She shivered now at the echoes. No man had ever told her he wanted her before. No man had ever spoken to her with a voice that sounded so desperate or full of longing. Callahan Kelly wanted her. He of the gray-blue eyes and the soft lips and the strength to lift her like she weighed no more than a valise. This man—who she’d seen no fewer than three women stop in their tracks to stare at him when they’d disembarked from Lady of Eire—he wanted her. He was holding her. He was carrying her through the doorway and setting her down on the—

“What are you doing?” She struggled to free herself when he laid her on the bed.

“You’re tired. I thought you should sleep.”

“But we haven’t—”

He placed two fingers over her lips. “I swear by the Virgin Mary and all of the saints I won’t touch you. You’ll be safe as a nun in a convent.”

She nodded reluctantly.

“Now go behind the screen and do what you need to be comfortable. I’ll build up the fire and make meself busy to give you what privacy I can.”

But as she washed her face and hands and pulled her warm nightshift on, Bridget knew there was one flaw in Callahan’s analogy.

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