Page 29 of Dark Rival

He was surprised, even confused. “Why would I apologize? I have done nothin’ wrong.”

Dismay twisted her mouth and she fought for her composure. “I don’t believe,” she finally said, low and slow, “that you are indifferent to me. We both know how manly you are, but there is more—I am certain.”

He tensed. She was right—and she must never know. “Think as ye will.” He shrugged. “But tonight ye willna be the wench in my bed.”

She turned starkly white and he regretted his words. “That’s right! Because I won’t be here!” She leapt away, spilling the wine. She shoved the glass at him, red wine stained his leine. “Aidan? Would you mind?” She stared at Royce, her eyes filling with tears.

Annoyance quickly rose. “Ye go nowhere, Lady Ailios, not until I give ye permission, an’ then I’ll be tellin’ ye where to go. Leave Aidan be.”

She gasped. “I beg your pardon. I decide what is in my best interest. I always have…. I always will.”

He was incredulous. She was arguing with him—defying him—and not for the first time. “I am lord an’ master here,” he said, holding his anger in check.

“No one is my master,” she cried.

He felt his world still as it always did when he was poised for battle and ready to attack. Did she not understand that she would obey him? Did she wish to war with him? She was a maid! Did she not obey her father or her man, Brian, in her time? “Those are words o’ great disrespect.”

She shrugged. “Sorry! Here’s more disrespect. You are a nice, pleasant person in the future. Right now, you are a cold, cruel, uncaring, selfish ass.”

He smiled without mirth, fighting to hold his temper in check. “Another man would strike ye for such words.”

Her eyes widened in alarm.

“I dinna beat women an’ children—or dogs,” he shouted. Then he leaned close. “I must be very different in yer time, eh? Otherwise ye wouldn’t love me so greatly.”

“You are a hero, my hero,” she said, “and it’s unbelievable that you are the same person. A woman would be mad to love you right now!”

He turned away, wanting to strike something, anything. Why had she fallen so deeply in love with his future self? It enraged him, it pleased him—it terrified him. He preferred her hating him now, didn’t he? It was better for them both. “In this time, women fall in love with me after a mere moment in my bed.”

She flushed.

He slowly smiled, lurking, and his suspicions were right. “Perhaps, Ailios—” and he used his most seductive tone “—ye were nay different, even in yer time. Like all women, ye confused lust with love.”

She inhaled, but he saw more hurt rise in her eyes, and he didn’t like it—or that he’d caused the hurt again. “You fell in love with me, too,” she said thickly.

“Is that why I died?” he demanded. He had to know. “Did I die for ye apurpose—or did I die because I loved ye to distraction?”

She just stood there, stricken.

She had been the death of him. He’d given his life for her, and he was certain he had done so gladly. He saw tears tracking down her cheeks. She was grieving for him and mourning his death.

It was sobering, confusing, dismaying. It was a moment before he could speak. He didn’t mean to touch her, but he laid his hand on her tiny arm. Her warmth slipped over him. When he did speak, he softened his tone. “Ailios, enough argument. I dinna wish to war with ye. Ye canna triumph here. Ye’ll stay at Carrick, an’ here, I decide yer life. Ye’ll leave when t’is safe—an’ only when I say so.”

He released her, not wanting to break the physical contact. Warmth seemed to curl about his insides. It seemed to infuse his bones. Was her white power stealing into him somehow?

“Will you force me to stay here, against my will?” she demanded to his back.

He whirled. “At Carrick yer will bends to mine.”

“Like hell!” she cried, dismayed and furious.

“There is one will here.” How could she fail to understand this fundamental fact of life? At Carrick, he was king.

She stared at him in disbelief. Then she said, “I am not going to stay here. I am not going to stay here while you cavort with other women. You will have to make me a prisoner.”

He was incredulous again. “Yer my guest.”

“I am your prisoner!” she shouted, trembling.