Chapter Five #3
“We won’t be there by nightfall unless we hasten our pace.” But he hoped to reach the vast meadow surrounding the castle, where they could see their destination.
“Do you think your sister has fled by now?”
“If Trahern found her, then by tonight or early tomorrow, she will join us at Laochre.” And if she did not arrive, then he would do whatever was necessary to find her.
Killian clicked his tongue and urged the horse into a trot. Francis obeyed and Taryn struggled with the new rhythm. “I think I prefer him walking,” she said, wincing at the rocking motion.
“When we’re free of the woods, I’m going to take him a little faster,” Killian warned.
“Faster? I think this is fast enough,” she insisted. Her voice held traces of panic, though she was valiantly trying to remain relaxed.
They had made it this far, and he wanted them to make up for all the lost time from earlier. “It won’t be for long,” he promised. But he suspected if he could get her to fully trust in him and in the horse, she might enjoy the feeling of riding fast.
He let go of her waist to tighten his grip upon the reins. “Don’t let go of me,” she pleaded.
Killian adjusted his seat until he could hold her with one arm, still keeping control over the horse. “Is that better?”
“Yes.”
They rode through the forest, down the winding path, until they reached the clearing. Once they were there, he asked, “Are you ready?”
“Not at all.”
But he urged the horse into a canter and then into a gallop. Francis was strong from years of pulling the plow, but he wouldn’t have the endurance to go far, carrying the weight of both of them.
“Are your eyes open, Lady Taryn?” he asked.
“N-no,” she said.
He leaned into her body, whispering against her ear. “Look around you. I’ll wager you’ve never gone this fast in your life.”
Killian could tell she didn’t want to, but she obeyed.
He studied the profile of her face as they rode.
The fear never left her eyes, but he saw a hint of wonder in them.
He kept the pace swift as they crossed the flat lands in a sea of green grass.
Sheep grazed in the open meadow, and in the distance, he spied the silvery river.
He kept up the gallop until they drew close to the water’s edge. Then he slowed the horse down to a walk. At last, he dismounted and helped Taryn down. Her hair was windblown, and her eyes were bright.
She walked toward the water and bent down her hands to scoop up a drink from the river. Francis approached her, and Killian handed over the reins.
“Let him drink,” he told her. She accepted the reins and guided the horse to the water. Francis drank thirstily, and Taryn rubbed his neck as he did.
“It wasn’t as frightening as I thought it would be,” she admitted. “Thank you.” Upon her face, he saw a soft smile. It had been so long since a woman had smiled at him, it caught him without warning.
“You did well, a chara.” He stood on the other side of the horse, and used a bit of dried grass to rub down the gelding. Taryn looked away from him, and there was a sudden shyness about her.
Careful, he warned himself. She’s not for you.
He was only traveling with this woman for her own protection and because Carice had pleaded with him. It meant nothing at all.
After the horse had drunk its fill, Killian took back the reins and let the animal graze for a while. He offered the lady a bit of bread and cheese, and she broke off her share, leaving him the rest.
Once again, she was treating him like an equal, and it raised his wariness once more. He told himself that it was out of thankfulness that he’d remained with her. And yet, he couldn’t imagine that she shared her food with her personal guard in this way.
He decided to keep his distance, and he sat down on a stone near the river. There was a film of ice forming near the shoreline and the air was frigid.
Instead of finishing her food alone, Taryn brought it along and came to sit near him. Once again, he grew wary. “Was there something you were wanting, Lady Taryn?”
The edge of her brat slipped downward, and she grasped the wool wrap, pulling it over her shoulders. She continued eating and answered, “No, I do not need anything just now.”
Then why had she come to sit by him? Killian started to stand, but she beckoned him to remain seated.
“Stay and talk with me awhile.” She tucked a long strand of black hair behind one ear and broke off a piece of bread while she stared at the river.
It seemed that she had grown accustomed to his presence and was comfortable with her scars.
But he was wary of her. He couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from this woman, and her blue eyes held him captive.
She had proven that she could overcome her fears, and he was falling prey to her siren call.
When she had leaned against him, burying her face in his heart, he had felt the strong urge to guard this woman.
Even now, her presence warmed his frozen heart.
Taryn Connelly was dangerous in a way he hadn’t anticipated.
“What will you do if Carice does not arrive at Laochre?” she asked him.
“She will. I trust the MacEgans to bring her there.” Any one of their warriors was stealthy enough to bring Carice to safety.
Taryn’s expression held worry, and she bit her lower lip. He clenched his fist, for he was wondering what it would be like to taste those lips, to draw her body close to his. God, she had smelled so good. And her body had fit against his in a way that provoked him.
“But what if...what if she doesn’t?” She lifted her gaze to his and reached out her hand to him.
He forced himself not to touch her. If he took her fingers in his, it would only tempt him to take the offering she didn’t want to give.
“As I told you before, I will go after her myself, if needed.” He stood and started toward the horse, only to have her follow him again.
“Killian, wait.”
He stopped in place, and the tension inside him tightened even more. She moved to stand in front of him. “You’re angry with me, and I want to know why. I thought, after all this, we could be allies. Perhaps friends.”
He stared at her in disbelief. Didn’t she realize how tightly strung he was?
If she touched him, he didn’t trust himself to leave her alone.
It had been so long since he’d enjoyed the softness of a woman’s body, he was rigid with frustration.
The night he’d spent beside her in the roundtower had been torture, for she had fallen asleep with her head in his lap.
It had been all he could do to leave her untouched.
And yet, she didn’t seem to know that he was on the edge of his control. She was far too desirable, and he had to do something to keep her at arm’s length. Anything.
“We could never be friends, Lady Taryn. I know what I am, and I know my place.” He didn’t want or need her pity.
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “For a man who wants to raise his status, you seem intent upon reminding me that you are a fuidir. Would you rather I gave you orders? Do you want to be treated like a slave?”
He stiffened at that, but she wasn’t finished yet. “I’ve been kind to you, and I’ve tried not to let my fears hinder you. I don’t deserve your hatred, and I cannot change the way I look.”
This wasn’t at all about her looks. It was about trying to protect her virtue, and she didn’t seem to realize the risk she was taking.
“I don’t hate you,” he said quietly. But the expression on her face said that she didn’t believe him at all.
Killian reached out for her hands, warming her palms with his. Lugh, she was such an innocent. “You shouldn’t be kind to a man like me,” he said roughly. Already she was a strong temptation, and she represented everything he wanted but couldn’t have.
Taryn stared at him, her face confused. “Why? Is there something wrong with being kind?”
“Aye.” He reached out a hand to trace her scars, caressing the marred skin.
Though he had no right to touch her, he wanted to push her away, to make her fear him.
It was the only way he could fight against the attraction toward this woman.
He cupped her chin and stared into those eyes.
“When I try to keep away from you, as a guard should, you pursue me. You sit beside me, and you want to talk.”
Taryn pulled away, her cheeks flushing. Good. He wanted her to recognize the social distance between them.
She swallowed hard and then regarded him. “Isn’t that what traveling companions do? Talk to one another?”
“I am not your companion. I am your servant.” He wanted the division made clear so she would keep away from him. For if he had his way, he would use that mouth for something entirely different than talking.
A startled laugh broke free from her. “Killian, not once have you behaved like a servant. You’re overbearing, dominant, and you enjoy ordering me around.
” She drew her knees up beneath her skirts.
“I never would have ridden that horse if you hadn’t forced me to.
” The soft amusement remained on her face, and she rubbed her hands together for warmth.
“You should not be so familiar,” he warned.
Her mouth twisted. “And why is that? Should I be afraid you would behave in a dishonorable way?” She pulled back her hair. “These scars protect me. I know what men see when they look upon my face.” Though she kept her tone forthright, he knew that she was sensitive about the marks.
“What do you think I see?” He moved in closer, his arm behind her spine.
“A woman who is cursed with the Devil’s markings. One who makes men draw back with revulsion.”
With his hand, he touched her forehead, commanding her, “Close your eyes.”
She obeyed, and he drew his fingers over her eyelids.
“You don’t know what men see. Not at all.
” He traced the slant of her nose, down to her lips.
“I see a mouth that talks entirely too much. Lips that are soft, almost yielding.” He rubbed her lower lip with his thumb and was rewarded with her sharp exhale.
Her blue eyes opened, and he shook his head. “No, don’t look.”
He tilted her chin up, moving his hand down her throat. “I see a woman with silken skin and curves that entice a man. And she has no idea of how tempting she is.”
Her sapphire eyes opened then, and she covered his hand with her own. Beneath his fingers, he felt her rapid pulse and her uneven breathing.
She should have been afraid of him. But in those deep blue eyes, he saw no fear—only wonder. Her hand reached up to his face, mirroring the caress he’d given her. As her fingertips edged his rough-shaven cheeks, he went motionless, like a block of stone.
The moment she touched him, he was lost. He knew it was dishonorable to take advantage of her innocence. A good man would release her, leaving her alone.
You’re not a good man, he reminded himself. You’re a bastard.
And he knew how true that was when he seized her mouth for a kiss.
Taryn couldn’t grasp any thoughts at all when Killian’s mouth came on top of hers.
She had never been kissed before, and the sensation was like fire rippling over ice, melting her resistance.
His warm mouth coaxed her to open, and she surrendered to him, curious about what it was like to kiss a man.
The kiss soothed her, his mouth taking possession. A warmth poured over her, through her sensitive skin and down to her toes. Her body sought to get even closer to him, and she was well aware of his arousal pressed between them.
He was forbidden, a temptation she couldn’t have. And though she suspected that he truly didn’t want to kiss a woman as ugly as she was, she wasn’t going to push him away. This might be her only kiss, and she wanted to know what kissing felt like.
He licked at the seam of her lips, and she opened slightly, before his tongue probed her mouth. The sensation startled her, and she murmured, “What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer but entered her mouth with his tongue, stroking her. From deep within, she grew wet, restless in a yearning she didn’t understand.
The kiss was growing hotter, and she took his face between her hands, kissing him harder. He was stealing not only her breath, but her common sense as well. Never in her life had she ever imagined a kiss would be like this.
He nipped at her lower lip. Then he pulled her hair over the sides of her face, shielding the scars, before he stepped away. Almost as if he didn’t want to look upon her again.
She didn’t know why he’d done it, but it upset her in a way she’d never expected. During the kiss, it was as if he didn’t care at all what she looked like. And now...now she worried that he’d suddenly realized just how terrible it was to kiss such a disfigured woman.
She forced herself to walk away from him, blinking back the hurt feelings. It was what she deserved, letting herself get caught up in imaginings that weren’t real. He was a fuidir, while she was a king’s daughter.
“We should go,” he told her.
And with those words, she understood that the kiss was a lesson to be learned. He didn’t want to be her friend or her ally. If she tried to bring down the walls between them, he would only freeze her out.