‘Your friends are ... interesting,’ Byron commented, once we were out of earshot.
‘They’re the best people I know,’ I said simply.
‘I wasn’t trying to put them down.’
‘I know.’
Byron sighed. ‘We always seem to be at odds with each other, Integrity. This isn’t how I intended things to go. I could have handled things better but you...’ he exhaled, ‘you don’t tend to encourage my rational side.’
I passed a hand across my face. ‘Why did you give me the Adair Lands? You won the Games, Byron. You could have asked for anything.’ He could have got himself out of his relationship with Tipsania; it was only manufactured to help the Moncrieffes with their appalling financial situation. Instead he had helped me – and that was after he’d discovered I’d stolen part of his Gift and accused his father of murder.
He was a silent for a moment before answering. ‘I was blisteringly angry with you. I still am. But the look on your face when you...’ He heaved in a breath. ‘Does it really matter?’
‘Yeah,’ I said, frankly. ‘It does.’
He scratched his chin. ‘However I felt towards you at the time, you deserved the win. But I also feel like you and I have unfinished business. I suppose I wanted to have you in my debt.’ His eyes glittered. ‘I wanted you to owe me a favour even if I couldn’t face talking to you at that moment.’
I was taken aback by his honesty. ‘Is that why you came here? You want to call in that favour? Just because I named you to Chieftain MacBain doesn’t mean you have to follow.’ I paused. ‘I would have understood if you’d stayed away.’
He snorted. ‘You didn’t really think I’d cower in my castle, did you? I want to see the Lowlands for myself. And keep an eye on you. Besides, despite everything, I know the real reason you asked for me.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Do you now?’
There was a gleam of mischief in his eyes. ‘You’re still wearing my jacket.’
I immediately began to shrug it off but he held up his hands. ‘Keep it. It suits you better than it does me. Anyway,’ he added with a lightness of tone I’d not heard for some time, ‘it proves that you have feelings for me.’
This was one of those occasions when I should have remembered to think before speaking but, rather than maintaining the banter, the words fell thoughtlessly from my mouth. ‘Right now, most my feelings are centred around frustration that you won’t see the truth about your father.’
He stiffened. Just like that the moment was gone. I. Was. An. Idiot. I damned myself for it.
‘You’re delusional.’ He said it quietly, and with less anger than before, but there was no denying that he believed I was fantasising. ‘I can understand it, Integrity, believe me, I can. You’ve been shat on from a huge height for most of your life. I agree that my father should have done more to help you when you were a child and we’ve had words about that. He recognises that he could have done things differently. But he didn’t try to kill you. You’re jumping at shadows.’
I stopped walking and folded my arms. ‘Do I seem damaged to you?’ I enquired. ‘Yes, my childhood wasn’t the greatest but I’m okay. I sleep well at night. I’m generally a pretty happy person.’ I thought about it a bit more. ‘In fact, I’d say I’m a very happy person considering how many times I’ve had brushes with death recently. A lot of that is to do with those four people back there. I’m not leaping at shadows because my mind is warped from maltreatment.’ An image of Aifric thrusting his sword into my father’s back flitted into my mind and pain lanced through me. ‘I’m hurt,’ I said softly. ‘And I’m angry. And maybe I want revenge for what happened here to my Clan. But don’t ever mistake that for irrationality or insanity, Byron.’
‘My father is a good man, Integrity.’
Byron was blind. Desperation clawed at me. What could I do to get him to see the truth? ‘How did you know that the Fomori are Gifted?’ I asked, repeating my question from Perth.
He frowned at me. ‘Why do you keep asking that? What do you mean?’
I sighed and pushed back my hair. ‘No one else knows that the demons have Gifts, just like the Sidhe. I checked. How did you know? Did your father tell you?’
He stared at me like I’d lost my mind. ‘Are you seriously trying to suggest that he’s in league with the Fomori?’
‘I know it sounds implausible but hear me out. Your father—’
‘For goodness’ sake! Can you even hear yourself?’
All I’d succeeded in doing was making Byron think I was even crazier than he’d realised. But I’d started so I’d finish ‒ what choice was there? ‘Your father has an emblem hidden in his room,’ I said. ‘I saw the same emblem tattooed on a Fomori demon.’
‘So what you’re trying to say is that my father, the Steward, is working with the demons.’ His eyes turned to cold chips of icy emerald. ‘Maybe he’s a time traveller. Maybe he’s actually three hundred years old and he conspired with them to annexe the Lowlands.’ Byron crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Maybe he’s a Fomori demon in disguise.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Are you kidding me? You’re the one who’s being ridiculous. He wants to help you.’ He unfolded his arms and gazed at me in frustration. ‘He’s not perfect but he has your best interests at heart.’
My skin prickled. That sounded ominously like Aifric was planning something else and he’d somehow drawn Byron into his scheme. I knew from the Truth-Seeking Gift that Byron believed every word he was saying. I also knew he was wrong. Heartbreakingly so. ‘What do you mean by that?’
His jaw tightened. ‘It’s a beautiful night. You called me here and I came.’ His voice lowered to a husk. ‘You want me and maybe I want you too. Let’s not spoil things by talking about my father any more.’
That was easy for him to say. He didn’t have imminent death hanging over his head. I made a show of acquiescing for now though. ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘The last part of the Adair grove is just up here.’ I stalked up the hill, leaving him to follow me while I mulled over the possibilities. Obviously I wasn’t going to beat information about his father out of him. I had to trick him into blurting out the truth somehow. Damn it. The trouble with that was Byron was already on his guard and was far too clever. My breath clouded in the cool night air. There was always a way.
Even with the little bud on the far branch, the single tree was stark against the barren landscape. As soon as we reached it, Byron stretched out his palm and placed it against the bark. ‘This is definitely it,’ he said, as much to himself as to me. ‘It’s a miracle there’s anything here at all. It means that Clan Adair isn’t dead, not by a long shot.’
As if in response, the little fireball suddenly flared up, ballooning in size and distracting us both. Byron snapped his head round. ‘Did you do that?’
‘No. I can’t do pyrokinesis.’
Despite softening towards me, he obviously didn’t believe that I’d not stolen his other Gift from him while he wasn’t paying attention. The little fireball continued to grow and, when the silvered glow of the Foinse appeared from the other side of the hill, rising up behind Byron’s head, I suddenly knew why. The Foinse was magnifying Byron’s magic. Shite. I couldn’t allow him to see that it was here.
Desperate to distract him, I lunged towards him and grabbed his collar. Startled green eyes looked into mine as I pulled him towards me and pressed my lips against his, kissing him as passionately as I could. At the same time, I waved a desperate hand at the Foinse to make it leave.
Byron stood stock still, not responding but not pulling away either. The Foinse bobbed around behind him as if it was having incredible fun. I gestured frantically at it to shoo it away; it responded by executing a perfect somersault. I thanked the heavens that it wasn’t making that strange humming noise any more but I really wished it would take the hint. I couldn’t afford Aifric finding out it was here.
A deep noise sounded somewhere inside Byron’s throat then h
is arms went round me. He opened his mouth, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip, just as the Foinse finally seemed to get the message and flew off in the opposite direction.
I yanked myself back, panting. ‘Sorry,’ I muttered. I stepped back, my instincts telling me to be ready to flee. My heart was fluttering almost painfully against my ribcage. Shite.
A slow smile crossed his lips. ‘See? You do want me. You lust after me.’ He took a step forward. ‘Am I in your dreams, Integrity? Are you going crazy imagining all the things I could do to you?’ His eyes were fixed on mine with unwavering intensity. ‘Is your imagination as vivid as mine?’
For once I was lost for words. I stared at him, my mouth dry. He reached out and pulled me towards him.
‘I saw the heat in your eyes. Do you think I’m going to let you pull a move like that and then just waltz back off to your friends?’ He lifted his hand and brushed my cheek. I shivered. ‘I was right about those feelings you have for me.’
‘I made a mistake.’
His heart was thudding against mine. ‘A mistake?’
I could feel my cheeks going red. ‘Let me go, Byron.’
‘This is why we’re not friends, Integrity,’ he growled. ‘This is why we can never be friends.’ And then he curved one hand round the back of my head and kissed me again.
I should have stopped things right there. Our situation was too complicated. This wouldn’t solve any problems; all it would do was make things worse. The heady scent of his masculinity made it difficult for me to think though. And when his lips left mine and began trailing down my neck, I forgot all about resisting. Fire seared through me.
Byron spun me round, pushing me backwards until my spine pressed against the bare trunk of the tree. This is probably wrong, a little voice said deep in my mind; this was supposed to be a sacred grove, not the back of the bike shed. His hands cupped my breasts and I gasped.
‘What is it about you?’ he muttered, his breath hot against my skin. ‘You fling around accusations about my father, you steal my magic, you dance on the wrong side of the law, you run around cities half naked and you can’t even tell a decent joke.’
I would have murmured a protest but his fingers brushed against my nipples, then circled round them, making coherent thought flee my brain.
‘All that,’ he continued, ‘and yet every time I see you, all I want to do is rip your clothes off and chain you to my bed.’
‘I might have known you were nothing more than a caveman at heart,’ I whispered.
‘You have no idea,’ he returned. He pulled away slightly, his hands leaving my body and moving up to cup my face. He stared into my eyes, holding my gaze, then he stepped back.
The rush of cold air which replaced the heat of Byron’s body was like a bucket of icy water. Why had he stopped? I flicked an unspoken question at him but he shook his head slightly. ‘Stay where you are.’
His eyes roved slowly down my body. He paused at my breasts, a tiny smile flickering at the corner of his mouth, then his gaze dropped further. I squirmed. He was taking his time and the fire that was flaring in his expression as he watched me was turning this into one of the strangest – and most erotic – moments of my life. I bit my bottom lip so hard I almost drew blood. There was an ache in my groin that was painful.
‘Do you want me to beg?’ I asked.
‘Stop talking.’
Or what? I swallowed hard. My breath was growing more rapid and, even though I curled my nails deep into the soft flesh of my palms, I struggled to control myself. Fine: two could play this staring game.
I let my eyes travel up and down the length of Byron’s body with the same unerring, aching slowness that he’d achieved. For someone who enjoyed a position of privilege, everything about him suggested hard work. I’d once thought that his taut muscles and golden glow were the product of hours in the gym and the tanning salon. Now that I knew his body better, it was clear that his physique was less to do with protein shakes and dumb bells than a simple by-product of his day-to-day life.
I lingered on the obvious bulge of his erection, enjoying his sharp intake of breath. He got his revenge, though, staring at me in return with such sultry, smoky promise that my head swam. We were both fighting for dominance – and he was winning.
‘I told you once,’ he said silkily, ‘that I could make you scream. I think now’s the time to prove it.’
Pushing myself away from the tree, I wasted no further time. I pulled my jumper over my head and threw it to the side then I did the same to my bra. This was no sexy striptease; the hungry expression on Byron’s face told me I didn’t need to do that. When I undid the button on my jeans, rolled them down and kicked them away, he actually groaned aloud. I allowed myself a tiny smile and then removed my panties. ‘Do you have a condom?’ I asked, ignoring his previous command to stay quiet.
He smirked and pulled one out of his pocket. Had he been expecting this to happen? A delicious shiver of anticipation ran down my spine.
I should have felt cold and vulnerable. I’ll admit to the cold part but, even with Byron still fully dressed, I felt an odd sense of power running through me. Maybe he did think I was crazy, maybe his father would be successful sooner or later and would manage to kill me, but right now, all I needed was Byron’s hot gaze and I could conquer the world. I crooked my little finger and beckoned him over. He stayed where he was, crossing his arms.
‘Admit it,’ he said. ‘Admit that you need me.’
I narrowed my gaze at him. ‘I need you.’
Triumph flared in his eyes. ‘How badly?’
I abruptly realised that he needed me to submit. I’d hurt his ego when I’d stolen his Gift from him and told him the truth about his father. Perhaps that was another reason as to why he’d given me the prize he’d won from the Games. He wanted to prove he had sway over me. Byron was used to women fawning over him. Even though I wanted him, I’d not acted like that and he didn’t like it. Strangely, the knowledge empowered me, rather than annoyed me.
‘I’ll beg if you need me to,’ I said softly. I dropped to my knees and eyed the bulge at this crotch. Now it was Byron’s turn to freeze. From the expression on his face he was struggling to maintain control. Rather than smirk, I shuffled over and stretched my fingers over to his belt, unbuckling it with one swift movement. I was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath. The condom fell from his hand onto the ground with a soft thud.
Ever so slowly, I undid his zip. Mmm. Tighty whities. I eased his trousers down until I had full access then, with his erection inches from my face, licked my lips. ‘Please, Byron,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll do whatever you want.’ Using the tip of my index finger I ran it down his length. He shuddered. ‘Be good to me. Give me what I want. I’ll do anything.’
‘Anything?’ he growled.
I tugged on a stray hair curling up towards his flat, tanned stomach. ‘Just give the order.’ Although I hoped he’d do it quickly. Despite the lusty fire raging inside me, I was starting to get bloody cold.
He placed his hands on my arms and gently pulled me upwards. ‘Like you’d ever follow my orders.’
I smiled. ‘Try me.’
Raising his eyebrows, he pointed to a spot on his cheek. I leaned up, wetting my lips and then licking it. Mirroring my movement, he did the same to me, his stubble scratching my skin. Then he undid the buttons on his shirt, revealing the full expanse of his chest and touched his nipple. I ducked my head down and took it in my mouth, nibbling and teasing it with my tongue. Despite the freezing air, I could taste the salt of his sweat.
Breathing hard, he gripped my shoulders and pushed me back. Without touching any other part of my body, his own mouth fixed on my breast, his tongue circling the nipple. Unable to help myself, I moaned. He took it gently in between his teeth and nipped. My moan turned into a cry.
‘Integrity,’ he said.
I could only mumble incoherently back.
‘It’s fucking freezing.’
A stifled gi
ggle escaped me. Fighting for control, I found some words. ‘Then let’s stop playing.’
He growled in agreement and spun me round, pulling me back against him. I could feel him hot and hard against my body, his skin burning mine where we touched. He nudged my legs apart with his knee while his hands left my waist and moved my hair aside as he traced down my spine.
‘So beautiful.’
I gasped, my eyes opening wide. Then I wished I hadn’t. For the briefest second my gaze focused. The sole tree of the Adair Clan grove was standing there, utterly silent. Judging me. It felt like I’d just been doused in icy water.
Oblivious, Byron ducked down, reaching for the fallen condom before returning back up. And then, as his fingers reached the spot between my shoulder blades at virtually the same point where the cold steel of his father’s sword had slid into my father’s body, I jerked away.
I spun round, panting. The heat in his expression had been replaced by confusion and wariness. ‘What is it?’
My jaw worked helplessly. I stared into his eyes and tried desperately to get him to understand. ‘We can’t do this. Not here.’
His face shuttered off immediately. His arms dropped by his side while his body shook for control.
‘This was – is - my Clan grove,’ I said, doing what I could to explain. My back tingled almost painfully. None of this was Byron’s fault. ‘I want this.’ I swallowed. ‘I want you. But not here. Not like this.’ I congratulated myself for once managing to keep Aifric’s name away from my lips. Thoughts about suggesting returning to the mansion before continuing what we’d started flitted through my mind but not only had the moment gone, where would we go? Into a dead room filled with ghosts and the memory of a massacre? Or the lumpy backseat of a smelly car like a pair of teenagers? No.
Byron scanned my expression. At first I thought he was angry but even though his features remained taut, he seemed to understand some of what I was feeling. Some. He nodded slowly, his own inner turmoil reflecting mine. His fist curled round the still wrapped condom. ‘Okay,’ he said. His mouth tightened. He stepped towards me once more. ‘This isn’t the most romantic setting.’