Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I know I’m already pushing him with my reluctant obedience, that the promise of punishment hovers. I further know that disobeying him in front of Malachy would be a serious infraction. Still, I’m angry with him. So I push myself off the bed and stomp over to him, letting my steps slap on the hardwood floor. To my shock, he takes me by the arm, swings me out in front of him, and cracks his hand hard against my backside. My cheeks flame, and I gasp, turning away so I don’t have to look at the other man.
“Keenan,” I say in a mortified whisper.
“Drop the attitude, lass,” he says sternly. “I’ll have none of it. We’re to meet with my men, and after, the boys under my charge. You can check the surly attitude at the door and show obedience, if you know what’s good for you.”
“Is that a threat?” I ask, still angry with him.
Pulling close enough to gather my hair in his fist, he tugs my ear to his mouth, his voice low and seductive but laden with steel. “It’s an oath, sweet girl. A pledge. It would make my day to have an excuse to punish you in front of my brothers.”
I. Am. Mortified.
Malachy walks ahead of us to open the door, and my God, the corners of his mouth twitch, but he’s noted every detail, I’ve no doubt. I will never be able to look the man in the eye again. I open my mouth to speak, but my tongue is tied, and I don’t know what I would say anyway.
Keenan tugs. A reminder. A promise.
“Yes, sir,” I manage to whisper. The jerk.
At that, he softens, the tightness at his mouth slackens, and he kisses my temple. “Good girl,” he approves, and even though I’m angry, even though I’m embarrassed, even though I still want to smack his beautiful face, my chest warms with the praise.
This place is nothing like the opulent rooms at his home. Though impeccably clean and well built, it’s simpler. Instead of uniformed servants ready to do what he says, there are students mulling about, and women who look like they could be teachers or administrators talking to the students and giving instructions. I catch the eye of one, a younger woman with wide blue eyes and a freckled nose, glasses perched on the very end. She sees Keenan and grows still, her eyes growing as large as dinner plates as her eyes go from me to him.
“Mr. McCarthy,” she greets in a soft, high-pitched voice. “Welcome.”
Keenan looks surprised to see her there, as if he’s never noticed her before. “Thank you,” he says, but he doesn’t know her name. It’s funny what women notice. He has not a clue who she is, yet it’s clear to me she’s smitten with him. She clutches papers to her chest, watching him walk by, and something in her deflates when her eyes drop to his hand holding mine.
“Caira,” Malachy says. She looks flustered and blushes pink when Malachy greets her. “We’re having a meeting in the main hall, and I’ll speak to the staff this evening. Please send out an email to alert everyone, will you?”
“Certainly, sir.” Her eyes go once more to Keenan, who still looks oblivious that she’s watching him.
Do they all admire him, this powerful leader of The Clan? And somehow, watching the men and women and children who clearly revere him, I can’t help but look at him with new eyes. Tall and muscled, his dark brown hair cut short and swept to the side, those vivid eyes of his the only angelic part of him. He’s the epitome of power, handsome enough to be a prince from a far-off land. But if he’s earned the respect of others around him, there’s more than stunning good looks about him.
The teenaged boys that mull about know him, too. Several nod in greeting, and a few have the nerve to speak to him, the older ones. “Lachlan,” Keenan calls across the corridor, when the boy we saw on arrival walks by. “I want a word this evening. Seven o’clock.”
The boy maintains eye contact, an act of bravery, no doubt. “Yes, sir.”
I think of what Keenan asked me earlier.
Would I marry him if the safety of others and my own depended on it?
Would that boy’s safety be at risk as well?
Maybe I shouldn’t be so stubborn. Maybe I should hear him out.
What choice do I have?
Chapter Seventeen
Keenan
I hate that so much is out of my control. I know I have to marry Caitlin, and I know I’m not giving her a choice, but damn if I don’t want the girl not to fight me so.
I’ve taken the lives of men who threatened to undermine The Clan without regret, without remorse even. Why does it seem so difficult to force the woman’s hand in marriage? I’m preoccupied when we go to our meeting, Caitlin’s hand in mine. I’m dimly aware of those hovering about us, noticing our presence. It’s not unusual for any of us to come here at the weekend, but it is for us to come in such large numbers.