"Love?" Sinead demanded. "You never told us that." She looked at Jack. "I'm sorry. I don't love you. I can't love a man who doesn't love me." Tears streamed down her face.

Catherine looked stricken.

Sinead dropped her flowers as she ran out the door.

Chapter Twelve.

Nothing like work to soothe the savage beast that was her soul.

Over the last five days, she'd composed a new tune. One could be guaranteed it wouldn't be played at weddings and birthdays. More like funerals and for those on suicide watch.

She'd returned home to Radharc Na Mara Manor, to lick her wounds. She hurt. She ached. She was lonely. She wanted Jack. She wanted...

Love.

Right.

As if he was capable of it.

He was all about duty, nothing else.

She blinked back tears. Sinead O'Malley did not cry over men. She didn't, she didn't- Even if her heart was broken. Even if she...

Loved him?

That wasn't possible.

She'd sworn never to love again after Donal. In fact, she didn't even believe in it. It was a wild emotion that opened you to be battered and bruised. She couldn't love; she would have to give up who she was. But there it was. She was battered and bruised.

Why else was she working like a madwoman?

For truth, she'd missed the manor, its hustle and bustle, its eccentric guests. The Major and his newest wife were back again. Well, the Major was back again. This was the first visit for wife number seven. Lord love him. Sinead wasn't willing to do it properly even once.

But she was working round the clock so she didn't have to think. Didn't have to see his face every time she closed her eyes. Didn't have to curl into a lonely ball in the big, oversized bed.

She swiped her knuckles across her eyes and was refreshing beverages in the breakfast room when the front door blew open and slammed against the back wall.

"Yum and chocolate in one tight package... Who's that delicious morsel?"

At her cousin's words, Sinead looked up.

'Twasn't the wind that blew the door open, 'twas Jack who slammed it open.

"I'm Jack Quinn," he told Mary.

"The Jack Quinn?" She made the sign of the cross.

"Sinead's husband."

Sinead's heart leapt into her throat and threatened to choke her.

"Sinead's -" Mary broke off. She looked at Sinead then Jack.

"Husband," he repeated.

The Major and his wife stopped eating and stared at the pair. The Major's fork was paused in the air, a piece of ham attached.

"Not here and not now," Sinead pleaded.

"'Tis true," Mary demanded. "You've married a Quinn?"

"You need to leave," Sinead said, wishing her voice sounded stronger, wishing she had the courage of her words. In truth, all she wanted to do was touch him, kiss him, feel the power of his possession.

"Not without my wife."

"We didn't-" Because they hadn't consummated their wedding, their marriage could be annulled, right? She put down the tea pot before she dropped it.

"Here and now." He was unyielding. "Unless you want a public spectacle, you'll see me in your office."

"You've married a Quinn?" Mary asked. "God help us all."

How in the hell would she explain this?

With his fingertips pressed to the small of her back, he urged her towards the privacy of her office.

The door hadn't closed behind them when he crushed her lips beneath his.

His kiss was searing. And it tasted different. It tasted of...desperation?

She pulled back, confused.

"Damn it," he said, stepping away and dragging a hand through his hair. "Enough is enough. I want you in my life. I want you in my bed. I want you under me, screaming my name as I fuck you ragged." He drew a breath. Before she could say anything, he continued, "I've totally gone and done it."

"Done it?"

"Damn it. Fallen in love with you. Never intended to. Never wanted to. But there it is. This isn't about the damnable curse. It's not about my mthair Chrona. It's about you. Wombat. Vixen."

"You love me?"

"Crazy, stupid. Head over heels. Can't live without you." He paced, formed his hands into fists. Nervousness?

She was speechless. Her heart thundered. Her mouth dropped open.

"Tell me you love me. Or tell me I'm a fool. If you make me go away, I will."

The tears she'd been denying flooded her eyes. Sinead launched herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. She nipped his ear and dug her hands into his hair. She kissed him senseless, her overpowering, powerful and humbled man.

"Tell me," he demanded. "But before you do, know this... I will not settle for anything less than your total commitment, emotionally and physically. Everything you have to offer, I want. And more. There will be no half-measures between us."

"I love you, you oaf! I've loved you since the island." He was everything she'd ever wanted, dreamt of, fantasised about. "I can't live without you."

"Bean mo chroi," he murmured. Woman of my heart. I am not pleased about the idea of you being on the road after we have children, but I'll manage. You may need to soothe the savage beast that is your spouse, but I'll not stand between you and your dreams."

She threw her arms around his neck.

He disentangled her. "About that honeymoon..." He locked the door. "Show me your cunt."

Her nerves jumped into her stomach. She gulped, then complied, dropping her trousers and knickers.

"I'm going to take you, Sinead. Here. Now. Fast. Hard. I will prove you belong to me. Bend over. Legs apart."

She trembled, knowing what to expect.

The first stroke was a feathered touch. That was unexpected. The second was a light slap. That was more or less what she expected.

The third was a stinging slap that ignited her pussy.

She would have collapsed, but he caught her. "Tell me," he urged.

"You're everything I've always wanted." He'd been right all that time ago when he'd told her she'd lacked the courage to face herself, her feelings, her wants, her desire, her passion. Now, she'd found it. "Fuck me, Jack." She stood, faced him, unzipped his pants. "Here. Now." She planted her hands on the desk, bending over.

She felt his cock against her. She moved back, demandingly.

"My woman."

"My man. My Master."

About the Author.

Born in Northern England and raised in the Wild West, Sierra Cartwright pens book that are as untamed as the Rockies she calls home.

She's an award-winning, multi-published writer who wrote her first book at age nine and hasn't stopped since.

Sierra invites you to share the complex journey of love and desire, of surrender and commitment. Her own journey has taught her that trusting takes guts and courage, and her work is a celebration for everyone who is willing to take that risk.

Also by Sierra Cartwright.

Signed, Sealed and Delivered.

Homecoming: Unbound Surrender.

Night of the Senses: Voyeur.

Bound Brits: S&M 101.

Halloween Heart Throbs: Walk on the Wild Side.

Naughty Nibbles: Fed Up.

end.