Mulligan Stew (17 page)

But a sound that only Culley, Riley, and Bridget could hear? What significance was there in that? Was it merely a coincidence? It had to be. Even so, Granny had always sworn that everything happened for a reason.

Remember why you came out here, Bridget.
She drew another deep breath and eased herself around to face him and froze. In fact, her heart had surely skipped a beat. Or three.

Though her sexual experience was limited to her brief honeymoon, Bridget remembered enough to recognize the hard heat that pressed against her belly now. A very
impressive
hard heat.

"Oh." She wiggled, hoping to free herself, but his erection grew harder and hotter against her.

"Is this how you seduced Culley?" Riley's voice sliced through the night. "By rubbing yourself against him? Flaunting your wares?"

Rage licked through Bridget right alongside the robust longing that throbbed through her.

She hated him.

She wanted him.

She wanted to hit him.

She wanted to kiss him.

She just
wanted
.

He reached up to cup the weight of her breast in his hand, keeping his other arm about her waist like a leather harness. She couldn't escape. Heck, she could barely breathe.

"Or did you flaunt these in his face?" he asked, leaning closer, gently massaging her breast.

Her breasts felt heavy and swollen. As he brushed his thumb against her nipple, her knees gave out completely. He hauled her against him. Raw need ricocheted through her. Her insides were on fire, clenching and seeking fulfillment.

He traced circles around her nipple with his thumb. Her blood heated and flowed to the center of her, demanding satisfaction. Bridget's head swam with images of a man and woman. They were faceless, just as Riley was now in the moonlight. Locked in a heated embrace, the imagined couple were joined in
every
possible way.

Liquid fire shot through Bridget and she pressed herself against Riley's erection, wishing there were no clothes between them. Wishing she could wrap her legs around his waist and swallow him deeply within her body... It had been so long, and she wanted it. Wanted him.

There was nothing sweet about this hunger. She wanted sex and she wanted it now. She wanted it hard, fast, furious. Her body contracted and pulsed, weeping for fulfillment.

For Riley.

She shook herself, clamoring for the strength to end this. What in tarnation was she doing? She couldn't
do
this. It was wrong.
Remember Culley. Jacob...

"No." She placed her hands squarely on Riley's chest and shoved as hard as she could. "I said no."

He released her so suddenly she almost fell, but she'd be damned before she'd reach out to him again. He moved as if to catch her, but she pointed her finger at him.

"Don't... touch... me." She could barely speak. Anger and an inconceivable craving pulsed through her, clouding her ability to think or move. Finally, she dragged in a shaky breath that sounded more like a sob, and straightened.

Facing him, she clenched her fists at her sides, kept her chin high. She had her pride, and she wouldn't let this man take that from her. Jacob would be proud of his momma, and Bridget would make certain she was worthy.

Trembling with rage, she said, "Don't touch me again or I'll scream loud enough to bring Fiona and Maggie both out here to see what the ruckus is about."

He didn't speak, but his anger flowed through the night air to surround her.

"You hate me, and I don't know why." She held her hand up to make certain he didn't interrupt her now. "I came out here to thank you for today. Not to be insulted and... and ravished."

A choking sound came from Riley, but nothing intelligible. He fell silent again.

"I didn't 'seduce' Culley," she said, remembering the way her husband had swept her off her feet, how an unexplainable and sudden passion had driven them to the Justice of the Peace. There'd been nothing dirty about it. "I loved Culley Mulligan, and I married him because he asked me. I caught his seed, and bore his son. Jacob. That boy is the joy of my life and you aren't going to hurt him. Or me."

Still, the man didn't speak. Even the strange whispering sounds from
Caisleán Dubh
had ceased.

"I appreciate what you did for me and Jacob in town today," she said, calmer now. "But that doesn't give you the right to take liberties now."

"Liberties?"

"You know dang well what I mean." Bridget stiffened, suddenly so tired she could barely stand. "Now you go on thinking what you will of me, but don't be forgetting that Jacob is Culley's son."

"Maybe."

"No maybe to it." Bridget rubbed her arms against the sudden breeze that swept in from the ocean. "Now. That's settled, so I'll skedaddle on back to the house and we'll be done with it."

"You'd be lying to yourself then." Riley turned back to the castle.

The whispering began again and Bridget shivered. She forced herself to walk away, to march to the house, open the back door, and quietly return to her room. Inside, she went immediately to the window.

Riley still stood there, but instead of staring at the castle, he now faced the house.

And her.

Chapter 8

Riley always walked to mass on Sunday morning, but not alone. However, this Sunday Mum couldn't walk that far with her gout—so much for the cherries—so Maggie would drive the car with Bridget and Jacob in the back seat. There wasn't room for all of them, which suited Riley just fine. He'd skipped breakfast to avoid Bridget, and riding in the car with her would've been the death of him.

That woman—that
cailleach
—had made him lose control last night. Riley tightened his hands into fists as he walked, growing angry with himself all over again. The feel of her against him, the weight of her breast in his hand, and the traitorous fire infiltrating his blood had all conspired against him.

"
Shite
." He reached up to massage the back of his neck. His head throbbed and his eyes burned like smoldering peat from lack of sleep. "You're a bloody mess, Mulligan."

To make matters worse, Bridget had heard the infernal castle whispering that had plagued him since Culley's passing. Wasn't that a puzzle?

He watched Mum's car pass with Maggie at the wheel. Jacob waved and Riley managed to return the gesture, noting that Bridget faced straight ahead.

Well, fine.
Didn't he need the peace of being alone? Aye, but not as much as he needed a woman. Sean Collins had asked him to play a session with him in Shannon next week. That was where Riley would find a woman to fulfill the lust threatening to seize his sanity. There were always anonymous, willing females hanging about the musicians in Shannon, unlike the smaller villages where decency prevailed.

"And aren't you the indecent one now, Mulligan?" If that wasn't an understatement, he didn't know what one was.

He swallowed hard, rounding the bend that would take him inland toward Ballybronagh. Aye, but he wasn't headed toward the solitude he craved almost as much as sex just now. No, Riley Mulligan, the lustful and sinful—at least he wanted to sin—was headed to mass. To church. To confession?

No, he would confess
after
his trip to Shannon.

A smile tugged at one side of his mouth and the tension in the back of his neck eased a bit at the thought. If it wasn't Sunday, he would go back for the lorry and head toward Shannon now. Ah, but there was no mercy for the lustful on Sunday.
More's the pity.

He glanced toward the back of Mum's car and caught sight of Bridget through the rear window. Sunlight gilded her hair, displaying strands of red and even a bit of gold amid the rich brown mane. His breath caught and an odd tightening gripped him.

There was something about this woman that triggered a terrible madness within him. When she'd touched him last night, he'd gone off his nut.

After that, nothing would do but for him to touch her. And more. He'd been unable to prevent himself from pulling her against him and showing her just what she'd done to him. Aye, and wasn't that his shame to bear? Now the woman
knew
his weakness. Would she use it against him as she had against Culley?

Riley turned to cut across his own field, avoiding the castle, as he often did. Ah, poor Culley. Riley heaved a sigh, knowing now what his young and inexperienced brother had come up against so many years ago in Tennessee. Hadn't Bridget cast her siren's spell on Riley, too? Even
he
had been helpless to resist her charms.

If it had been Riley instead of Culley visiting the States seven years ago, would
he
have married Bridget in order to have her in his bed?

The question caught Riley by surprise. He chewed his lower lip, considering. Now that he'd experienced a taste of Bridget's power firsthand, how could he deny the possibility that Culley might very well have stooped to anything in order to have her? For that matter, hadn't Riley been near that point himself last night?

If Culley really had married the woman, then Bridget's legal claim to her late husband's share of the farm was genuine. Riley swallowed the lump in his throat and his empty stomach churned acid in lieu of the breakfast he should've eaten. Perhaps he'd been approaching this all wrong.

Perhaps?
A snort of disgust broke free and he shook his head at his own foolishness. Hadn't Bridget won every round? She'd ingratiated herself into his family. She'd even been welcomed in the village. Only Riley and Katie had rejected Bridget and her son.

Culley's son.

Aye, the lad was a Mulligan. Resignation eased through Riley. That much, he could no longer deny. Maybe he couldn't deny the marriage either, but he knew one thing to be true. When it came to Culley and Bridget, she had been the more powerful, the more seductive, the more experienced. And she had, no doubt, wielded that power ruthlessly.

Renewed rage threatened to whip through Riley, but he shoved it aside. Right now he needed reasoning—not anger. He was older, more experienced than Culley had been, and he must not fall victim to Bridget's wiles.

The memory of her soft curves melding against him last night flashed unbidden to his mind. He could smell her, feel her, hear her breath. Oh, and when he'd cradled her breast in his hand, all thoughts but having her beneath him right there in the meadow had fled.

Her passionate response to his touch had shocked and inflamed him. Even now he throbbed and hardened expectantly.

"Bloody hell." How was he supposed to stroll into church with
that
on display? He paused half a block away. A little more time was all he needed. A cold swim would've been more effective, but this would have to do until he could get to Shannon.

His face warmed with embarrassment as he neared the church. By the time he reached the front steps, he would have himself under control again. After mass, he would determine how to handle the likes of Bridget Mulligan.

"So the traitor has arrived."

Riley froze at the sound of the familiar voice. Slowly, he turned to face Katie Rearden's wrath. "Aye," he said, unable to deny her charge.

She walked slowly toward him, her arms folded before her, the lines of her dress in perfect harmony with her stride. Crisp, freshly pressed, pristine. Culley had always said his Katie was the most perfect lass he'd ever known. How could he have betrayed her?

More shame finally brought Riley's lust under control—at least for now. Hadn't he betrayed Katie almost as much as Culley supposedly had, and all because of the same woman?
Jaysus.
As much as Riley wanted to deny it, he couldn't.

"'Tis sorry I am, Katie," he said, stopping in front of her. "I..."

"You what?" She stared up at him, waiting. "You're sorry for shaming me in Gilhooley's?" Her eyes narrowed and she drew a deep breath. "Or for embracing your brother's doxie and bastard?"

Like a blow, Katie's words slammed into Riley. He gnashed his teeth, struggling for a response. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "None of this is the lad's doing."

"He's still a bast—"