The Prize (28 page)

She knew he was not
asleep. Suddenly she wished that he would reach out and stroke her arm, her
hair, anything, smile just a little and reassure her that he, too, was feeling
simply wonderful.

The bed dipped as he
sat up. She also sat, expecting him to turn to her, to say something, and she
waited, but he stood, not looking at her—not even once. She glimpsed his expression,
and she thought she saw his features rigid and strained with displeasure, and
perhaps, with anger.

"Devlin?"
she whispered again, and heard how fragile and pleading her tone did sound.

There was the rustle
of cloth as he fastened his britches and tucked in his shirt. He finally
glanced at her, his face smooth and expressionless. "Go to sleep,
Virginia
," he said.

She stared, his
dispassionate words as painful as the stabbing of a knife.

"It's
late," he added, his brief smile forced.

Oh, God, what was
he thinking? Why was he behaving as if nothing had happened? Why wasn't he
happy?

"Devlin,"
she began, suddenly panicked.

But he was crossing
the room, he was leaving.

"Devlin?"
She could not believe he would leave without a meaningful word, kiss, or even a
look.

But at the door he
paused, not turning to look at her. "I'm sorry I hurt you," he said.

She knew he referred
to the physical invasion of his large body into her small, narrow one, and she
was finally disbelieving.

He walked out.

He was a man on a
mission. He traversed the house with hard, purposeful strides, refusing to
think. He only knew one thing.
Never again.

230                           

He had failed to keep
the vow he had made, to her and himself, and he had failed his parents, both alive
and dead— he had failed. In the end he had been caught up in a hunger that was
impossible to control or resist. He had never felt such urgency before and he
was never going to feel it again.

Never again.

He stood before
Sean's closed bedroom door. He did not see the wood there—he saw only violet
eyes, wide and glazed, and he heard only her wild cries of pleasure, her begging
for more.
What was wrong with him ?
A woman was only a vessel.
Elizabeth, Fiona, they were objects to be used. Goddamn it.
When he was
inside of her, something had begun to break apart inside of him, something had
begun to tear apart, almost like a dying man in an endless black tunnel,
finally glimpsing the shadow of faraway light and life.

He didn't like it.

He didn't like it one
bit.

Never again.

He realized he was
standing in front of his brother's door. He could still hear
Virginia
's cries, he could still taste
her, he could even smell her, all over him.
If he dared, he could walk
through the blackness and seize that faraway light.

The idea shimmered,
beckoned. Devlin shoved his terrible thoughts aside and focused on a far more
important matter. What if he had gotten her pregnant?

He reminded himself
that he wouldn't be around to find out.

His mind was
ruthlessly made up. If anything, the thought of her being pregnant confirmed
his decision. He banged upon the door twice.

Sean answered it,
clad only in his drawers and looking as if he had been soundly asleep. But he
took one look at Devlin and his eyes widened.

Devlin meant to smile
at him. Nothing was more impossible. "Fine," he said.

"What?"
Sean asked, shock in his gaze, for he clearly knew what his brother had just
done.

"You have my
permission to court
Virginia
. Court her, woo her, win her
love, it's all the same to me—but in the end, you will marry her."

Sean gaped.

Devlin slammed the
door in his face.

Virginia
almost wept.

She no longer felt
eighteen, never mind that she was a woman now—the little girl she'd once been
had returned, bewildered and hurt. She lay in bed, desperately trying to understand
what had just happened. She had just let Devlin O'Neill make love to her. She
had let the man who had abducted her and who was holding her prisoner make
love to her, and it had been everything she had expected and more. But he had
walked out a moment ago as if their lovemaking meant nothing to him.

She refused to cry.
Instead she tried to understand him, she tried to make excuses for him. It was
late. He was tired. For all she knew, the act exhausted men. Tomorrow he would
really smile at her, and he would pull her aside to kiss her and hold her and
tell her that he was falling in love.

Virginia
moaned. She sat up, absolutely
ill with dread. Who was she fooling? She didn't even know the stranger whom she
had allowed such complete possession of her body. And what she did know of him
did not allow much hope. He

was a brave man, but
he was also hard and cold. He had just left her bed without a single
affectionate gesture or word. And last night he'd been with a different woman.
What
had she done?

Why had she enticed
him into her bed?
Virginia
knew very well that she had
seduced him, never mind how inexperienced she was. Now she simply failed to
understand how she could have done such a thing. He was her captor, a man with
an iron heart, if any.
But dear God, it had been more than wonderful, it had
been right.
Yet she was so shaken now, so confused, at once sick and desperate
and even afraid. Never had she felt so lost and alone.

If only he had said
something kind to her before he'd so abruptly left.

If only he had kissed
or held her, if only there had been one sweet caress.

If only...

And finally, a single
tear slipped down her cheek.

Angrily she brushed
it away. She was a strong woman and she would not cry over something she had so
wanted! Besides, maybe tomorrow he would really smile at her, and that would
be enough. One smile to show her that he did care, just a little, after all.

Virginia
realized that she was terrified
to face him again.

She was terrified
that he would not be kind, or worse, that he would be indifferent.

Virginia
turned onto her back again. In
the morass of her confusion and fear, only one thing was clear. She should go
home. If she went home, everything would be all right again. Wouldn't it?

But she didn't even
know if she still had a home, and if she somehow did leave
Ireland
, what about Devlin O'Neill?

She closed her eyes.
What if she never saw him again?

Too late,
Virginia
realized that she could not bear
the notion.

* * *

Virginia
was not surprised to find her
door unlocked, with no one standing in the hall outside. She glanced down the
deserted corridor, straining to hear. Yesterday he'd put Connor on duty
outside her door. Clearly her punishment was over, but then, it should be,
after what had happened last night.

It was
noon
. She had not been able to sleep until dawn
and had overslept as a result. Carefully dressed in a high-necked gray gown,
Virginia
went downstairs, filled with
tension, so nervous she felt sick. Were they lovers now?
Was she Devlin
O'Neill's lover?

What would he say and
do when they first came face-to-face after all that they had done last night,
all that they had shared?

Virginia
was terrified of their first
encounter. She reminded herself to look him in the eye, smile cheerfully and
greet him as if nothing had happened—as if she was not scared to death of what
he might say and do. She reminded herself that she must carefully feel him out
without giving him a clue as to her own feelings". Because if he was not
pleasant, she did not want him to know how much she was affected by their lovemaking.
She did not want him to guess the extent of her feelings. In fact, she herself
was afraid to admit what might be in her heart.

The house was silent,
as if nobody was present.
Virginia
glanced into the dining room and
saw that the breakfast buffet had long since been removed. She was very
hungry, but she would ignore it.

His study was down
the hall.
Virginia
's steps quickened until she had
to remind herself not to run, to slow down, to
breathe.
To her surprise,
the study door was wide open and the room was empty.

Dismayed, she stared
at the huge desk where she had seen him working. Then she started into the
adjacent salon, but

                             
235

that was empty, too.
She hurried to the French doors that let onto the brick terrace and stared at
the sweeping lawns. She saw a horse and rider approaching.

Virginia
left the house quickly, choosing
to do so by way of the terrace. Her heart raced with an anticipation she could
not hold at bay. Clouds scudded across the sky and she knew it would be a fine
day for sailing. She could almost hear him saying so. She smiled, imagining him
on the quarterdeck of the
Defiance
.

The rider had yet to
come close enough for her to make him out. She paused before the stables,
waiting nervously, wringing her hands. Then she caught a glimpse of gray and
white from the corner of her eye and she glanced into the barn. To her
surprise, she saw his gray stallion was in his stall.

If he hadn't gone
riding, where was he? Her heart beat like a jungle drum now. Perhaps he had
taken a different horse, she thought, suddenly worried and not quite knowing
why.
Virginia
came out of the barn and she
faltered. It was Sean who was dismounting in the courtyard, not Devlin.

She managed to take a
steadying breath and plant a smile on her face before approaching. "Good
day, Sean," she said brightly.

"Good
afternoon," he said, not glancing at her. He handed the chestnut to a
young groom. "Walk him until he's cool, Brian, then a nice hot bran will
do."

"Yes, sir,"
the boy said, leading the sweaty horse away.

Virginia
continued to smile while her
pulse leapt so wildly it made her feel faint. "Did you have a pleasant
ride?" she asked.

"Yes," he
said, walking abreast of her but staring past her, at the house.

Alarm began.
Virginia
walked with him, staring at his
hard profile, a profile incredibly similar to Devlin's. He seemed sunburned—either
that or he was flushed. And it was clear he did not want to look at her.

She swallowed, her
first thought being that he somehow knew of the affair last night. But she
quickly reassured herself that he could not know. Her bedroom was in one wing,
his in the other. But his behavior was so different. He was grim and subdued
instead of cheerful and loquacious. "Is everything all right?" she
asked cautiously.

"Yes." He
finally glanced at her. Then his gaze slammed to her mouth and away.

Virginia
's mouth was bruised, her lips
were swollen, and she felt certain he not only saw, but understood completely.

She did not want him
to know about her fall from grace. "Have you seen Devlin?" she asked,
and to her horror, her voice sounded far too high and on the verge of hysteria.

"Yes." Sean
seemed angry now. His strides increased, leaving
Virginia
behind.

She had to run to
catch up. "He doesn't seem to be in the house and—"

"He's not
here."

She halted.
"What?"

Ahead of her, Sean
did not pause. "He's gone."

Her mind froze over.
She croaked, "Gone?"

Sean suddenly turned,
the action violent. "He left. He's not here," he said, his face
mottled with a red flush.

She swallowed hard.
"What do you mean, Sean?" How hard it was to get the words out. But
she somehow knew.

His furious gaze
clashed with hers. "He went to
London
this morning."

Virginia
cried out. And for one moment,
her world grayed, darkened, became black.

And when her vision
cleared, she was in Sean's arms, and he was peering worriedly at her. She started
to push him weakly away.

He didn't allow it,
holding her upright on her feet, a strong arm braced behind her back. "You
were about to faint."

She met his gaze,
aware that hers was brimming with tears.
"He went to
London
?"

Sean nodded, his
expression very grim, his gaze dark with anguish.

And her heart cracked
open. Again and again, until it bled, raw.
He had left. He hadn't said
goodbye. He hadn't cared enough to say goodbye. He was gone.
"Is he
coming back?" she whispered.

"I don't
know," Sean said. "He said he will send word."

She stared, her body
shaking, her mouth trembling. The eighteen-year-old woman was gone. A tiny
child was left in her place, broken and bewildered, abandoned and alone and so
very afraid.

"I'm
sorry," Sean suddenly cried. "I could kill him with my bare hands, my
own brother, a monster I do not understand!"

She cried out,
fighting tears now, refusing to weep.
He simply did not care that they had
made love. He was gone.

"I know what he
did to you, Virginia. I am so sorry."

She met Sean's gray
eyes, eyes that were so like his brother's except that they mirrored
compassion and regret and even guilt. He was holding her hands tightly.

"You know?"
she whispered, tears seeping.

He nodded. "I
saw him last night. It was obvious. But your secret is safe here."