and moved forward to nudge Connor's hand for a pat of affection.
'You'll have to take him,' she said. 'Otherwise, you'll hurt his feelings.'
'He needs to rest. Besides, horses don't have feelings.'
Did he always feel the need to contradict her? She started praying in an attempt to keep herself from shouting at him.
Connor replaced the bridle on the peg, told Davis to take the horse he'd chosen outside, then leaned back against the stall, folded his arms across his chest, and finally deigned to look at her.
He didn't say a word until Davis had left the stable. 'What is it you want?' he asked impatiently.
'I was wondering why you didn't say good-bye to me. Were you going to?'
The tremor in her voice was the first indication she was upset. He thought he knew why. She had expected an apology this morning, hadn't gotten one, and now, because she was an intelligent woman, realized she was never going to get one. Her conclusion would be correct, of course, as he still didn't have any intention of telling her he was sorry he'd come to her like a savage last night. Having her moved into another bedroom was his way of apologizing. A clever wife would have figured that out right away, and been thankful and relieved.
Brenna didn't appear to be either at the moment, which, he concluded, could only mean she didn't know about his magnanimous gesture yet. He wasn't going to take the time now to explain it all to her, because Alec was waiting for him. If she wanted an explanation when he returned, he would accommodate her.
'I don't usually say good-bye before I leave.'
'You're married now and should always tell your wife goodbye.'
'Any other instructions you wish to give me?'
'Were you planning to come back?'
'I live here, Brenna. Of course I'll come back. Is this your reason for detaining me?'
'No, I wanted to speak to you about another matter. I would appreciate it if you wouldn't interrupt me until I'm finished.'
'Will you get it said?' he demanded in vexation.
She gritted her teeth together in response to his stop-bothering-me tone of voice.
'I have only just found out you moved me into another bedroom, and I felt certain you would wish to know what I think about it. I would like your permission to speak freely first.'
'You don't need to ask my permission to speak freely when we're alone. Say whatever you want to me, just be quick about it.'
'Yes, I'll be quick about it,' she promised in a hoarse whisper.
'Can't you wait until I return to say thank you? What the hell's wrong with your eyelid? It's twitching.'
She chose to ignore her husband for a moment. She looked over her shoulder one last time to measure the distance to the doorway and safety, saw that the doorway was just behind her, and took a deep, now-you're- going-to-get-it breath. Because she was going to have to flee with all possible haste, she picked up the hem of her skirts in preparation, and only then did she give her husband her undivided attention… and her wrath.
She wasn't smiling now.
'I don't have any intention of thanking you, Connor. However, I do intend to tell you what I think about your decision to move me into another room. I think you are beyond contemptible. You're also a vile, despicable, arrogant, heartless, mean-spirited pig. How could you deliberately hurt me this way? After the passionate, satisfying night we shared together, for you to shame me this way makes me think I must be married to a goat. Well, you've gone and done it this time, because I'll never recover from your insult. You've broken my heart again, and I will never forgive you.'
She really should have stopped while she was ahead. At the very least, she should have stopped insulting him the second she noticed his reaction to being called a pig. He clenched his jaw tight, which was a good indication to her he wasn't taking her comments at all well. She couldn't remember what other insults she threw at him, because once she got started, she couldn't seem to make herself stop, but she was pretty certain she suggested he was a horse's backside too. The hurt he'd caused her made her want to lash out at him, and even though it was childish for her to lower herself to his level, she couldn't seem to make herself care long enough to stop.
Second thoughts weren't going to do her a lick of good now, however; only distance would assure her of living another full day, as Connor's eyes had gone from wide with stunned disbelief-no doubt the mention of 'pig' caused that reaction-to half-closed and burning.
He didn't even give her a head start. She turned around only to discover that someone had snuck up behind her and closed the barn doors, throwing off her timing considerably. She had to let go of her skirts so that she could push the doors open, and then Connor had hold of her hand and was pulling her back. How he'd gotten to her so quickly was beyond her comprehension. One second he was next to the stall, looking fit to be tied, and the next he was dragging her behind him toward the back of the stables.
She said a heartfelt, 'God, please have mercy.'
'If you must pray out loud, do so in one language. God prefers Gaelic.'
Her snort of disbelief wasn't appreciated, she knew, because he tightened his grip on her hand. He dragged her to an empty stall around the corner from the others and closed the gate behind him.
She didn't start edging away from him until she saw the look in his eyes. She stopped when her back was pressed against the wall. Immediately, she realized how cowardly she must appear. She couldn't seem to make herself move away from the wall, but she was able to fold her hands together and managed to look serene while she waited to be throttled. Retreat would have been better, of course, but he blocked the only way out.
Connor seemed to be relaxed now. She knew better. She wasn't going anywhere until he was finished with her. She really needed to get hold of herself. Her husband was furious, no doubt about it, but he wouldn't ever touch her in anger. He would use words to crush her, and at the moment, that seemed to be just as horrible.
'Care to repeat what you just said to me?' he drawled out in a deceptively calm voice.
'No, thank you.'
'I really insist, Brenna. I want to hear every word again.' He let her know he was willing to wait, no matter how long it took, by leaning against the stall and draping one arm over the top of the gate.
She didn't like the way he was intimidating her, which, under the circumstances, was the least of her problems, and she really couldn't blame him for being angry with her since she'd said such unforgivable things to him. She wasn't about to apologize, though; for while she wasn't totally convinced he was completely heartless, he had still wounded her deeply.
'I'm afraid I won't be able to accommodate you because I seem to have forgotten most of what I said. I do recall mentioning you disappointed me,' she added with a nod to prove her sincerity.
He wasn't buying it. 'I remember being called a pig.'
'You do?'
'You know good and well, I do. I was called a pig in two languages.'
'You were?'
'I was.'
'I might have spoken in haste. Yes, it is possible I might have.'
'You spoke in anger.'
'You gave me permission to speak freely.'
His tone sharpened. 'I didn't give you permission to insult me. You will never speak to me like that again, will you?'
'Will you hurt me again?'
'This is not a negotiation, woman.'
She flinched in reaction to his anger and tried to think of something she could say that would appease him but not be an outright lie.
'If I remembered every word I said, I would want to take back most of what I…'
He interrupted her. 'I remember every word. In which language would you like for me to repeat them? Yours or mine? You couldn't seem to make up your mind during your tirade.'
'I really don't wish to hear…'
She stopped protesting as soon as he began reciting, flinched when he repeated certain words, such as 'pig' and 'goat' and 'horse's backside,' and by the time he finished, she'd lowered her head in shame and embarrassment.
