Page 58 of Dark Rival

He shifted and her hand fell away. “Let’s sup,” he said, and he walked inside, leaving her standing alone.

Allie tried to remain confident. There was no reason for Royce to reject her. She didn’t care what Ceit had said earlier. His aura told her he was hot for her. He couldn’t possibly have tired of her.

But he was cold and impersonal, as if last night hadn’t happened, not any part of it.

SHE WALKED INTO THE HALL behind him, terribly unfamiliar with her anxiety. Most of her life she had cruised through any and every situation with no doubts at all—especially if the situation was social or romantic. Any anxiety she’d ever had had been related to her academics. She felt so odd. He was going to have a drink and turn and smile at her, wasn’t he?

Royce was shouting for Ceit to bring the meal, while pouring a mug of wine. Then he hesitated, his back to her. Finally, Allie thought, trembling.

Ceit came running in with Peigi. She laid a trencher of meat and fish on the table, while Peigi went to Royce and unpinned his plaid, taking it from him. When Royce didn’t turn to her to smile or even speak, Allie began to breathe hard. Moisture came to her eyes. Was he rejecting her? Had Ceit been right?

Both women left, only to return with bread, cheese, grains. Royce, his shoulders stiff, finally turned. “Here.” He extended the mug of wine.

The last shreds of her optimism and confidence vanished. She walked up to him when it felt like she was walking into the mouth of an erupting volcano. “What is going on? Why aren’t you looking at me? What kind of greeting is this? I have missed you so much!” she cried, trembling.

He was looking at her now. Still offering the wine, his gaze moved from her eyes, where a tear slipped free, to her mouth and down the sexy jersey dress, right to her green suede high heels. He lifted his gaze, and before his lashes came down, Allie saw bright heat. “Do you wish for some wine?” he asked with so little emotion that he could have been asking a stranger.

Allie trembled, the urge to strike the wine from his hand huge. “No. I was thinking along the lines of a hug and a kiss.”

He drained the wine and refilled it, his back to her once more. “Tomorrow ye go to Dunroch.”

Allie tensed impossibly. Everything was wrong. He was not the lover she’d had in her bed last night; she didn’t know who he was. “Dunroch?” she managed to say. She wiped another errant tear. But why would he do this?

“Aye. My nephew Malcolm an’ his wife are there. Ye’ll be safe with them.”

Allie gasped. “Are you getting rid of me?”

He sat down at the table, heaping meat and salmon upon a trencher. “Ye need protection. I trust Malcolm. He’s a powerful Master.” He didn’t look at her, just started eating.

Allie was in disbelief. “Royce,” she began.

“Sit down an’ eat,” he said, shoveling food into his mouth.

Allie realized he was intent on ignoring her now. She stepped to the table and pulled his trencher from him, so abruptly that some meat and bloody gravy sprayed over the table and his lap. He looked up, his face hard. “Last night we made love. Today we’re done?”

“Aye.”

Shock began.

“Ye need protection an’ Malcolm will protect you with his life,” Royce said.

This could not be happening, Allie thought. “You did not use me,” she managed to say.

“I’m sorry.”

He had used her?

Allie did not have a temper. Now, she saw red. She hit him across the face, as hard as she could. And pain blinded her, bringing the tears she so wanted to release.

He leapt up and seized her throbbing hand, holding it tightly, to ease the pain. “I am sorry. I dinna make any promises…nary one.” Then he bellowed for the maids.

She tried to jerk her hand free, but it was impossible. “Let go.” But he hadn’t made a single promise and he hadn’t said he loved her—or anything even close.

He held on tightly for one more moment, as the maids came running in. They gasped at the sight of his stained tunic and the spilled food. “Get seawater for Lady Ailios. She has hurt her hand. I need a leine.”

As Ceit and Peigi vanished again, Allie jerked on her hand and he let it go. “Am I a fool?” she said, still reeling.

“Last night Carrick was attacked. The deamhanain want ye an’ they want ye alive,” Royce said flatly. His gaze was searching, but Allie couldn’t look at him.