Keenan (Dangerous Doms 1)

“How did anyone unwelcome penetrate a place like this?” I ask curiously.

He wags a finger in my direction. “Good question. Very good question, indeed.”

“Had to have been someone inside, then?” I suggest.

He nods. “I think the same. Someone got into the knickers of a teacher, who let someone in. Someone untrustworthy,”

I frown. “That would be terrible,” I tell him. “Why would anyone do such a thing?”

“Why indeed,” he mutters, and his eyes shutter. “Now no more questions, lass.” He’s answered more than I expected.

I sit quietly, easily falling into silence that I’m comfortable with. When we arrive, it’s unlike it is at his home. There are no servants come to take our things, but rather guards at the gate. The men take their own bags and traipse up the hill to what looks like a big entryway door. As we arrive, young men watch from afar as we enter, sturdy, fearless teenaged boys with the look of both youth and responsibility lining their faces. One boy looks like the clear leader of the rest, tall, with a barrel-like chest and a booming voice.

“What’s the craic?” he says to Nolan, jerking his chin in greeting. “Come to investigate, have you?”

Nolan nods soberly, and I think the most disconcerting part of all of this is how serious Nolan is. I’ve never seen him look like that.

Keenan turns to the tallest boy and nods. The boy looks a bit abashed, as if he knows who Keenan is and doesn’t quite know how to respond.

“Grady,” Keenan greets. “Alert Malachy we’ve arrived, will you?”

The boy nods eagerly. “Yessir,” he says, taking off a trot. Keenan gestures for another boy. I watch, mesmerized, as they all obey his command. “Lachlan, I’d be remiss if we didn’t chat while I’m here. Be prepared to come when I summon you, aye?”

“Aye, sir,” the boy says, looking both proud and a bit nervous. He swallows.

Keenan commands this small army as well.

We enter the building and go to a vacant room on the first floor, a small room with a queen-sized bed, a toilet behind a small door, and a tiny sitting area. Keenan smirks. “And this is the largest of the lot.”

“It’s big enough,” I say with a shrug. To my surprise, he spins me around and pulls me to his chest, burying his face in my hair and breathing in deeply. He does this sometimes, as if breathing me in cleanses, or somehow gives him strength. I don’t know how. I don’t know why. But I easily meld to his embrace and lay my head on his chest.

He doesn’t speak at first, just holding me. I hold him back, wrapping my arms around his sturdy body and allowing him to breathe me in.

“I’ve missed you,” I whisper truthfully.

He nods. “Thank you for that. You’ve no idea what it’s like to come home to you. You breathe life back into me when the day’s drained it from my very limbs.”

I look up at him, at the bright intensity of his eyes, and rest my hand against the stubble on his cheek.

“That might be the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

He smiles at that, his eyes crinkling at the edges and the corners of his beautiful mouth quirking up. “I can do better than that,” he says. “I’ve a question for you, Caitlin. Something that’s been pressing on me since that day I found you in the garden.”

I hold his eyes, preparing myself for whatever it may be. In this short span of time, I’ve grown to love the honesty between us, the unquenchable flame that flares to life when we draw near to one another. I feel it now, the pull in my gut that consumes me when he’s near.

“Alright, then,” I say simply. “Have at it. But I’ll have you answer a question for me as well.”

“That isn’t how we play this game,” he says, but his eyes are twinkling for a moment before he sobers. “My question, lass. If you knew that your safety and the safety of others was contingent on your being my wife, would you do it?”

I’m so astounded at the monumental question; I stare at him in stunned silence.

Marry this beautiful, brutal, vicious man?

“Would I… would I have a choice?” I ask. Though he’s tender with me, I’m still his prisoner, and I can’t forget that.

I watch his eyes grow cloudy for a moment, and a muscle ticks in his jaw before he responds.

“No.”

“Well, then, why ask? You have your answer,” I say, my heart sinking at his response. “But it wouldn’t be for love,” I say stoutly. I try to pull away, but he won’t allow it, his grip on me tightening. He pulls me closer to him, so that my body is flush against his, and I can see the little flecks of gold in the intensity of his eyes. I’m reminded immediately of how strong he is, how easily he could hurt me.