Sylvie
I’d very nearly not come. Alec’s warning was still ringing in my head. He’d wanted me to stay away from Aedan because he was dangerous, a legendarily brutal fighter. And yet the irony was, brutal was exactly what I needed, right now. Brutal might just save my life.
But Alec had started to say something else, too, just before the fight. He’d been scared for me. “The guy’s a real bastard. I heard—“
What? What had he heard? All I’d gotten out of people at The Pit was vague impressions, no details. But they all agreed he was a great fighter...and someone to stay the hell away from.
Instead of staying away, I’d come all the way out to Newark, alone, and sought him out.
Because I really didn’t have any choice.
And because I’d thought I’d seen something in him, back at The Pit.
I thought I’d glimpsed someone, underneath the hardness and the scars.
Someone who might just be able to save me.
The way he made me feel only made it worse.
Seeing him in daylight, that combination of rugged good looks and raw power was even more acute.
He was gorgeous, but not in any familiar, safe way, like the guys I saw around the city.
He didn’t belong in New York, with its rules and its civility.
He’d have been at home a thousand years in the past, back in Ireland, defending his home from an invading army, bellowing a war cry as he tossed men over his shoulder.
It made perfect sense that he’d wound up in The Pit, the most barbaric place the city had to offer.
He should have scared me—he still did scare me, in a way.
But every time I looked into those eyes, I felt like I was falling.
Every time I watched his lips move, I felt the ghost of their imagined touch on mine.
That accent was the most wondrous thing I’d ever heard, a complex melody of flowing vowels and upward lilts.
It was music made from dirty steel and slabs of stone and it did a number on me every time he spoke.
And then he’d said the one word I hadn’t expected: no. The word washed over me and seeped into my skin, chilling it like a north wind. I took a half step back, stumbling as if he’d slapped me.
Maybe Alec had been right about him. Maybe he really was a bastard.
And it was worse than that. I’d got it into my head, somehow, that he liked me.
I was sure I’d felt his eyes on me, more than once.
The shame rose up in my stomach, hot and wet and flaring scarlet.
Of course he doesn’t like you. A super-hot guy like him?
From the way the woman at the gate glared at me, I wasn’t the first woman to come looking for him.
Maybe he’d taken a passing interest in me, considered me for a casual fuck, but nothing more than that.
When he’d helped me, back at The Pit, it had been out of pity, or because he felt he had no choice. And now I’d showed up at his work full of expectations and he just wanted rid of me.
I hated him, in that moment. I felt like the geeky girl who smiled shyly at the football captain and heard the whole room collapse into laughter. All I wanted to do was walk away.
But I couldn’t. I still needed him. There was no one else who could help me.
I couldn’t bribe him—I didn’t have any money.
There was only one thing I could offer him instead.