Still, I couldn’t help but give her some small measure of comfort after I punished her. Given that she’s innocent and naïve, perhaps she didn’t notice how punishing her affected me, how aroused it made me. It wasn’t the first time I’ve whipped a woman, and it won’t be the last. And if I’m honest, I liked it.
No.
I fucking loved it.
The way she squirmed and screamed. The power that rushed through me, pinning her to the bed and administering deliberate pain.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I’m hard as fucking granite after that.
The girl’s a virgin, I’ve no doubt, and it makes it that much harder to abstain. I’ve never had a virgin, and the thought of me being her first… Christ, I can’t think like that.
“I’ve business to tend to,” I tell her. “You’ll stay here and wait for your clothing. When mam arrives, allow her to help you dress, and be ready for this evening’s dinner. But before we go, I need to be sure you’re prepared, Caitlin.”
She looks up at me with those wide blue eyes, beads of tears still clinging to her eyelashes like tiny crystals. I swallow hard. There’s something about her that’s fetching, that makes me regret being the cause of those tears.
“What?” she says. I’m glad to see her tone’s softened, that her punishment did something to mitigate her cheek.
“I’ll give you one chance to speak truth before I take you before my father.”
She blinks but doesn’t reply.
“I need to know why you were in possession of materials suitable for a spy,” I tell her. “My men will want to know.” I speak earnestly, for this is important. If I can’t prove she’s innocent, her life is forfeit.
“I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “I truly don’t.”
“Were they your father’s, then?” I ask.
Her brow furrows. “If they were, it is news to me,” she says sadly. “I can’t imagine he’d be a spy. I truly can’t.”
“Are you?” I ask her bluntly.
She looks at me as if I just asked her if she’s ever visited the moon. “Do I look like a spy?”
I feel my jaw harden. She still doesn’t get it.
“Answer. The. Question.”
Of course she doesn’t, but I never met a spy who did.
She stills, and squirms on the bed, likely mulling over the punishment I inflicted.
“I am not a spy. I lived the life of a recluse, until you robbed me of that and took me. I don’t even know who you are, much less what you do. I don’t know who owned the books in that shed, and the most logical explanation is yes, they belonged to my father. Why would he spy on you? I don’t know.”
She speaks the truth.
“Those were good answers,” I tell her. “I have work to do before this evening. I’ll be back. My men will be outside this door and mam will be back soon. You’re to call her Maeve, her Christian name, and do what she says. I trust her.”
She doesn’t respond, her eyes fixed on the window behind me.
“Did you hear me?” I ask sharply.
She starts, then drags her eyes back to mine. “Yes, of course,” she says.
I nod, and for the first time, something in me loosens looking at her.
She could be the one.
The moment the words hit the periphery of my consciousness, I shove them away. I’m not the type to fall for sentimental notions. Nolan’s the romantic; I’m the practical one. Men in our Clan don’t marry for love but convenience, to solidify and strengthen our bonds, or to form alliances. Love can form, of course. Of this I’m certain. One only has to see the way mam looks to my dad with stars in her eyes, and the way he softens when she’s near. But love is an ethereal emotion for which I have no time or patience.
And it’s stupid to even entertain the thought of anything between me and Caitlin. She’s my captive, and I’m to question her.
But what will become of her after tonight?
I don’t like leaving her in the room. Though I know no one can penetrate the layers of protection that surround our estate, it troubles me. I call my men back to their positions outside my door, and when they arrive, it still doesn’t put me at ease.
I want to be the one to protect her.
My phone rings as I exit my room, and I answer on the second ring. It’s Carson, our Clan secretary and bookkeeper.
“Yes?”
“Keenan, are you on your way into the office?”
I grunt into the phone. “Yeah. Why?”
“I heard you had company, and wanted to be sure we were still meeting,” he says. “I’ll meet you there.”
We disconnect the call. Word gets out quicker than wildfire in The Clan.
I usually prefer to drive myself into the office, but today I’m distracted. I call a driver, and within minutes, I’m in the backseat of one of our vehicles, scrolling through my phone and heading in. I have business to attend to, and want it done quickly and efficiently.