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“We will have private speech later,” Aidan replied angrily to Reilly. To Emma, he growled, “You’re going back.”

“You don’t get to make decisions for me,” she replied hotly. To Reilly, she added, “Note that I don’t agree to anything right now.”

“You agreed to everything else,” Aidan spat, angry now. “Every last decision. You signed the contract, you got in the car, you got on the plane.”

Her eyes narrowed further. “If you want to circle back to the source of all those decisions, perhaps we ought to start at the beginning.”

“When the pictures of your client and your ex went viral?” he asked sardonically, tearing a hunk of bread from the loaf in front of them.

Emma stopped cold.

“Low blow,” Reilly murmured, then held silent.

“I was referring to your insistence that I work for you. Fool that I am, of course it started with the pictures,” she replied coldly, past her very dry throat.

“The job offer was Colin’s doing, wasn’t it?” Reilly interjected. “Weren’t you scouting Emma for his PR position?”

“Perhaps we ought to take this to my solar,” Nioclas cut in.

“No one can understand us,” Reilly pointed out. “We’re also too far from any of the other tables to be overheard. ”

“This seems like something my brother and the lady should discuss in private,” Nioclas tried again.

Emma didn’t hear him over her spinning mind. “Are you saying that you didn’t want me as your publicist?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Aidan affirmed. “I was scouting you for him. Your circumstances, unfortunate as they were, aligned perfectly with my goals. I got you to him, didn’t I?”

So the protection he offered her…it was to ensure that his cousin —or however they were related— would have someone to fill a position?

She was ten times a fool. Of course it wasn’t about her. It was about what she could do for someone else.

Like always.

“What about Ireland?” she asked, hating the catch in her voice.

Aidan turned cool eyes to her. “What about it?”

Bri’s look of miserable sympathy was almost more than Emma could take.

And just like that, Emma decided she’d had enough.

No more teasing kisses, or holding hands.

No more pretending that maybe she could have a relationship with Aidan MacWilliam.

He was out of her league, sure. But he also was a first-rate ass for allowing her to think there might be something between them.

She always knew she wasn’t relationship material, but seeing as how she’d fallen right into his plans for her…

Apparently, her taste in men hadn’t improved since she’d sworn them off after Ben.

In a low voice, she hissed, “I am so very grateful we never finished what was started back at Colin’s.”

“What, exactly, did you start at Colin’s?” Brianagh asked, her curiosity fully piqued.

“I tried to dissuade her,” Reilly said matter-of-factly.

“Perhaps you should save your speech for another time,” Brianagh said, shooting a concerned glance to Nioclas .

“But then you said you didn’t really mean it!” Emma exclaimed, glaring at Reilly. “I am so grateful Cian interrupted us. Talk about a sign that sleeping with you is a bad idea!”

Aidan turned a cool gaze on her. “When I finally take you to bed, it will be the best night of your life. I vow it.”

Brianagh choked, and Nioclas clapped her on the back as he thundered, “Saints above, Aidan, she’s a lady!”

“And that seals it,” Reilly said with a sigh. “Tomorrow, in the lists. Choose wisely, MacWilliam. Swords or joust.”

Emma glared at Aidan. “You will never get me in your bed.”

“Challenge accepted,” Aidan snarled.

Emma’s eyes narrowed.

“Joust,” Aidan answered Reilly, his gaze locked on hers. “And when I best him, you’ll marry me, here. Because you,” he leaned closer to her, “are,” their noses almost touched, “mine.”

The words felt different, coming from Aidan. The threat wasn’t one of violence…it was a sensual warning that made her lose her breath. And that made her even angrier.

“I am no one’s,” she uttered back.

He smiled, though it was anything but friendly. “We are handfasted. If I win tomorrow, you marry me.”

“Then I will pray for your failure,” she snapped.

“The terms are set, then.”

Emma looked up in surprise. She hadn’t noticed Laird Monaghan and his son standing at the table in front of them.

Emma risked a glance at Bri, whose face was white.

Nioclas stood and the hall quieted. He spoke in Gaelic, and the crowd broke out in cheers.

“Nioclas just announced that Aidan would be showing his prowess in the lists tomorrow, using the joust as his combat of choice,” Bri translated, squatting down next to Emma’s chair.

Hands shot up, and Aidan sat back, crossing his arms with a deadly expression on his face, as men made their way to their table to have speech with him and declare their place in line for the morning’s activities.

“And those men are going to challenge him for your hand.”

“What?!” she nearly shrieked, then remembered herself. After determining no one was paying much attention to her at the moment, she hissed, “No!”

“Look at the bright side,” Bri offered. “Now that Aidan’s declared he wants you as his wife, Shane won’t. He’ll be expected to participate, as most of the eligible men will, but if he does it halfheartedly, the match with Brigit can be saved.”

Emma blinked. “I don’t think I understand your social rules as much as I thought I did.”

“They’re way more complicated than what is written,” Bri agreed. “But trust me. This fixes everything.”

“Except the whole me getting married part,” Emma replied flatly.

“Oh. Right.” Bri chewed her lip.

“I changed my mind,” she said loudly enough for Reilly to hear. “I do want to go back.”

“Fickle female.”

In that moment, Emma hated Aidan MacWilliam. She didn’t want to be a prize. She didn’t want to be bartered for. She didn’t want to owe anyone anything, ever.

Surely the laird of the castle wouldn’t force her to wed someone she didn’t know. She hoped, anyway.

She also hoped that Reilly would be able to return her to the future sooner rather than later.