Page 9 of Taming Irish

“Because I’m not yer type,” I repeat her earlier words. “Or…” I lean closer. “Are ye just afraid to take what ye reallywant?”

Her expression goes hard, the humor in her eyes evaporating just as quickly as it appeared. “And you thinkyou’rewhat Iwant?”

“Am I wrong?” I sit back, studyingher.

“Yes.” There’s no conviction in the word. “But I’m sure you’ll have better luck with your friend.” She nods at the blonde stewardess who continues to glance over at us with a pout every fewseconds.

Makena lets out a sound of disgust and looksaway.

“That’s some measuring rod ye gotthere.”

“What?” She glares atme.

“The way ye judgepeople.”

That makes her pause. She opens her mouth, then shuts it on whatever she was going to say. “I’m not judging. I just feel…sorryfor women likeher.”

I tilt my head. “Why? Because she knows herself? Ye think that makes her weak? Knowing what she wants and going after it?” I give a hard shake of my head and sigh. “Ye’rewrong.”

Makena’s lips press together and I can see her brain swimming with a response. After a few seconds, she says tightly, “Then maybe you should go give her what shewants.”

I lean in again, giving her a look that she won’t be able to misinterpret. “But she’s not whatIwant.”

Makena meets my gaze for a short, intense moment, before looking away. But not before I see the desire that burns underneath the coolness she’s trying so hard to hang onto.

I take her hand and rub my thumb along her innerwrist.

She trembles, but doesn’t pullaway.

“Have ye ever let yerself take what ye want,love?”

For a second, albeit brief, I see her contemplating my question. And in that moment, I see all the pent-up passion she’s holding back. A fury of untapped desire. Then, it’sgone.

The hand that I’m holding curls into a ball and she draws it back. “What a person wants and what they need are two very differentthings.”

“Someone hurt ye?” I already know the answer. It’s written all over her countenance. And whoever did it to her, did a fucking bang-up job ofit.

Her bottom lip trembles before she says softly with a slight hint of bitterness, “Yeah.”

I run my palm across my jaw and watch the emotions that flitter across herexpression.

Complicated. That’s what the woman is. And I’d dug a little deeper than I intended. But hell, I want to knowmore.

Shit. Time to walk away,man.

“And you?” she asks. “Have you ever had your heart broken, or are you just set on breakingthem?”

I shrug. “If everyone knows the rules going in, then no one getshurt.”

“Therules?”

I grin down at her and say low enough so that only she can hear, “No emotions. No promises. No tomorrows. Justpleasure.”

Her pupils grow larger and she sucks in a small, tremblingbreath.

Dark waves of hair fall across her shoulders as she shakes her head. “I…couldn’t dothat.”

“What?”

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