FIFTEEN
WHAT THE HELL was he doing here? Marcus spun around to face Kesh, his hands balled into fists as he fought the almost uncontrollable urge to pound the other man into dust.
Beka said, “Kesh!” But Marcus thought he detected more surprise than pleasure in her voice.
“Did you invite this guy to join us?” Marcus asked through gritted teeth. This was taking “three is a crowd” to whole new levels.
Beka shook her head. “No, I did not. In fact, I haven’t seen him since the day before yesterday; I’m not even sure how he knew I would be here.” The look on her face was distinctly unwelcoming, which made Marcus relax just enough to start thinking instead of simply reacting.
“Did you follow us here?” he asked, taking a half step in front of Beka. Great. The guy was a stalker. Well, if he wanted Beka, he was going to have to go through Marcus to get her.
Kesh shrugged elegantly. “I was concerned when Beka did not arrive for our usual dinner on the beach,” he said. “When I arrived at her home to make sure that she was not ill, I saw you driving away. So yes, I followed her. But merely to ensure her safety.”
Beka scowled at him, for once clearly not impressed by his charm. “We don’t have a ‘usual dinner,’ Kesh. Just because we got together a few nights in a row doesn’t mean that it is going to happen every day.” She crossed her arms over her chest, making that magical dress do dangerous things. “And I certainly don’t need you to keep me safe.” She gave him a glare that was steeped in meaning. “Have you forgotten who I am?”
Marcus felt like he was missing something, but he wasn’t going to worry about it right now. “Beka, this guy is stalking you. He could be dangerous. Maybe you should report him to the cops.” Or let me beat the crap out of him.
Beka shook her head, hair pale in the moonlight. “You’re overreacting, Marcus. He’s from a background that’s . . . different from ours. He just doesn’t understand about boundaries, that’s all.”
How different could Ireland be? Marcus breathed out through his nose, trying to rein in his temper. “Is that why he told me to stay away from you? And said that you belonged to him? That’s not a cultural difference, Beka, that’s just arrogance.”
She slid across the sand to stand between the two men, her gaze swinging back and forth. “He what? When?”
“That morning we were all surfing together.” Come to think of it, he’d shown up out of nowhere that day too.
Beka narrowed her eyes at him, and he suddenly thought that maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut.
“You mean that’s why you were acting so rude and cranky? Because Kesh warned you off?” She rolled her eyes in his direction, and then turned that piercing blue gaze on Kesh. The temperature on the beach seemed to drop ten degrees, and Marcus realized that the few times he’d thought he’d seen her angry, she’d merely been a tad peeved. This was Beka angry, and it was a truly impressive sight.
“And you, Your Highness,” she bit off the words as she poked one finger into Kesh’s slim chest. “I do not belong to you. I do not belong to anyone except myself, and you would do well to remember that. You are not my ruler. You are not my lover. And if you ever pull anything like that again, you won’t be my friend either. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”
Kesh actually took one step backward, alarm flitting across his handsome face for a moment before it was replaced by his usual composure, and then by what was no doubt supposed to be an endearingly sheepish grin.
“You are quite right, my darling Beka. I overstepped, and for this I am very sorry.” He bowed over the hand that had jabbed him and kissed her fingers.
Marcus gritted his teeth until he thought he would crack a molar.
Big brown eyes with absurdly long, dark lashes topped a crinkled smile. “Please say that you will forgive me, Beka. I shall be crushed otherwise.”
Beka stared at Kesh for one long moment, until her anger slid away like frost on an autumn morning. “Fine, you’re forgiven.”
Marcus opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again. She didn’t belong to him either, and he couldn’t tell her what to do. So much for a great evening.
Kesh shot him a triumphant look out of the corner of his eyes and turned to bow again to Beka. “Then may I have this dance, my lady?”
“No,” she said.
Marcus wasn’t sure which one of them was more surprised, him or Kesh.
“No?” repeated Kesh, a baffled expression on his face. “But I apologized.”