Vanquished

She cringed at the sound of his voice, for not only was it entirely too intimate for a public setting such as this, but she had hoped to spare both of them from the interaction that would soon follow.

She had nearly reached the hallway and her escape when her arm was captured and she was pushed toward a secluded alcove where her body was trapped against the hard wall of his. “Why are ye running from me?” he asked, his voice tinged with something akin to anguish.

She wasn’t about to be fooled by it. “I’m not running away. I just don’t have time to converse with liars and libertines,” she hissed.

He hung his head. “I knew ye would get the wrong impression about Candace.”

“And what is that? That it didn’t take you any longer than this afternoon to find your next paramour?”

He looked at her then, his green eyes snapping with emerald fire. “I will allow that since ye are ignorant of the situation, lass, but Candace is nothing save an old friend.”

Delilah wasn’t about to be cowed. “I’m sure you will soon say the same about me.” She attempted to push against his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. “Let me pass.”

“Not until ye see that you are mistaken about my intentions regarding Candace.”

She reluctantly crossed her arms. “I’m listening,” she snapped.

His gaze softened slightly. “I wish ye could see yourself through my eyes in this moment,” he murmured. “It will haunt my dreams for years, knowing that I lost ye to another man.”

She exhaled heavily. “The only man I see right now is an infuriating Irishman who is trying to distract me with his flowery words and praise.”

A grin slowly spread across his face. “I only speak the truth with ye, lass.”

“Then you better start with what I want to know.”

He looked at her for a time and then allowed his arms to fall. His expression turned neutral as he said, “Candace and I grew up together. She’s friends with Maria Foote and when she found out I was in London, she asked me to attend the play with her.”

Delilah waited for more, but when nothing was forthcoming, she said, “That’s it?”

He shrugged. “I know ye were looking for some sort of way to villainize me in yer eyes since I won’t tell ye my long and sordid past, but I’m afraid that’s all there is to it.”

Some of the wind left her sails, for Delilah realized she had been hoping for something more, something that might make her care for Conor a bit less than she did. “I see.” She exhaled heavily. “I should go…”

She started to move, but he blocked her exit once again. He cupped her face in his hands and said harshly, “What is it that ye want from me? Ye know I can’t offer you more than what I already have—”

“I know!” She shoved him so fiercely that he stumbled backward. “I know.” She enunciated clearly. Her whole body shook, for being so close to him and knowing that nothing further could ever come of their association was starting to chip away at her heart, piece by piece. Her chin trembled with emotion, and she cursed the tear that threatened to show itself by coursing down her face.

“Oh, my sweet lass…” Conor’s tone had gentled, and he looked almost sorry for her, as if he knew she was starting to fall in love with him already and he couldn’t do anything to stop the devastation from happening.

She held out a hand to him. “Please, just leave me alone.”

Conor hung his head but didn’t move. He released a heavy exhale, and when his gaze returned to hers, his eyes were bright with determination. “I keep telling myself to do that, but for some reason I can’t resist ye.”

Delilah lifted her chin. “Then it appears we are at an impasse. You can’t resist me, but I will resist you.”

This time when she attempted to leave him, he didn’t stop her.