Chapter Ten
The Queen was as good as her word. The moment Killian returned with the MacEgan soldiers, she joined them.
Though Maeve did not issue commands, she kept a close eye upon Taryn.
Her insistence upon controlling her daughter, though out of a mother’s love, had made him realize that only a husband had the right to supersede Maeve’s authority.
And he was well aware that she didn’t believe their story at all.
Taryn, thankfully, had recognized the deception as their best means of reaching Tara with no further interference.
He had no doubt that her mother would have prevented a marriage at all costs.
It was only his resemblance to the High King that had made her falter.
She would learn, soon enough, that he was a bastard.
But for now, he had the right to travel with the Lady Taryn.
They would reach Tara within another day or two. Night was falling, and he finally chose a place to make camp. Taryn appeared weary, but at least she still had her freedom, such as it was.
He set up their tent away from the others, knowing they would have to share a space tonight. The thought of being so near to her was a raw temptation, and he worried that he would be unable to keep his distance. Each night, he thought more about touching this woman, about lying beside her.
The truth was, he wanted her with a fierce need he didn’t understand. He was like a flask of oil, ready to ignite with a single flame. Every time he kissed her, he thought of what it would be like to pleasure this woman, to teach her what it was to surrender to his touch.
They ate among the other men, and he didn’t miss the Queen’s resentful look when he escorted Taryn back to their tent. But his so-called bride took his hand and went with him obediently.
Instead of walking inside the tent, she stopped him for a moment. “She is watching us.”
He knew that and didn’t care. “She doesn’t believe what we told her.”
Taryn nodded. “Will the men tell her the truth?”
Killian shook his head. He’d given orders to one of the MacEgan captains to spread the word among the soldiers. The guard had understood the need immediately, and he was confident that the men would maintain the illusion to prevent bloodshed.
He took Taryn’s hands, and she lifted her face to his. In the shadowed moonlight, her eyes glowed. “I suppose, in this instance, I am using you to avoid a conflict with my mother. But you needn’t worry that it will come to anything more than this.”
He lifted her hands to his chest. God help him, but he had never desired anyone more than this woman.
He traced her scarred cheeks with his thumbs, not caring that most of the camp was finding a reason to watch their shadowed silhouettes.
“I think we are using each other, a stór. And this night, I find that I don’t care. ”
He claimed her mouth in a fierce kiss, needing to taste the lips that had haunted him. She yielded to him, kissing him back and opening to him. Against his mouth, she whispered, “Are they still watching us?”
“Aye, they are.” He drew her hips to his, knowing that she could feel the length of his arousal.
“Good. Perhaps my mother will believe this.” She deepened the kiss, opening her mouth and touching her tongue to his.
Her boldness sent a white-hot bolt of desire rocking through him.
He met her kiss with his own, ravaging her mouth until he could hardly remember anything at all.
She tempted him beyond measure, and he hissed when she slid her hands down to his hips, moving her body against his.
“You’re pushing against the boundaries, Lady,” he murmured against her ear.
He sucked at the soft lobe, and she released a gasp.
“Do you know what I’m wanting to do to you now?
” She shook her head, shuddering when he trailed a path to her throat.
Her responses were innocent and so perfect, he could spend all night touching her.
“I’m wanting to run my hands beneath your skirts. I want to caress your ankles, rising up between your thighs.” At her shocked expression, he added, “Aye, a mhuírnín, I’d touch you there, too. And if you were wet, I’d pleasure you until you were desperate to take me inside you.”
Her face was flushed, and he drew his hands over her bottom, moving his thigh between her legs. She clung to him for balance, and he said, “I could lift your skirts and put myself inside you. You’d feel me moving within your body.”
Her fingers dug into his shoulder, and he could see her eyes staring into his with her own arousal. When he moved his leg, she let out a faint moan.
“Your legs would be wrapped around my waist while I thrust inside you,” he said. And she closed her eyes as if to imagine it.
Without asking, he led her inside the tent and drew the flap shut. In the darkness, he could no longer see her face. But he sensed that he’d brought her to a desire she’d never felt before.
“Killian,” she whispered. “What you said outside...it made me feel so...” Her words drifted off, as if she was too embarrassed to speak.
“I don’t think anyone would doubt now that our marriage is consummated. They saw enough.”
He was giving her the chance to pull back from him, to sleep on her side of the tent and maintain her virtue. But inside, he was aching for her. He wanted to do exactly as he’d said, sliding into her body and thrusting until she cried out from the pleasure of it.
“They did, yes,” she whispered.
He heard a slight rustling as if she were lying down upon the furs. “And I am grateful for what you said to my mother today. It might have been a lie, but you convinced her it was truth.”
Killian doubted if the Queen believed them, but she had not tried to stop them. It made him wonder whether Maeve was telling lies of her own.
Silence fell between them, and he stretched out on the cold ground. Despite the leather ground covering, he could feel the frost beneath his cheek. His shaft was aching, and he gritted his teeth against the discomfort. He’d brought this on himself by touching her.
It was only to prove to others that she is yours. Not because you care about her.
Not because he had grown to admire her over the past sennight, in the way she fought for someone she loved. In the way she continued to believe in him, despite what others had said. Taryn was a woman of fierce loyalty, and he envied Devlin for that.
“Killian,” she whispered. “Why did you touch me like that, in front of everyone? It wasn’t necessary to go that far.” Her voice held no chastisement; instead, he detected an emotion he couldn’t read.
“You know why.”
“But...what you said to me outside this tent. There was no reason to say those words, for no one could hear you.”
That was it. He heard the shyness of disbelief in her words. He moved in closer until he was lying beside Taryn, his knees touching hers. “Do you not believe that you are a desirable woman?”
“I don’t know what to believe.” She rested her folded hands against his chest. “Most men don’t look at me in that way. I’ve grown accustomed to it.”
“Most men are fools.” He reached out to cup her cheek, running his hands through her hair. Though he kept the touch light, his imagination roared with forbidden visions. He wanted to touch her bare skin, to make her feel things she had never felt before.
Taryn said nothing, but her fingers moved against his chest in a silent caress. “Last night—when I invited you in, it was only meant to be an offer of shelter.”
He didn’t take his hand from her hair. “Being with you at night is dangerous to both of us, a mhuírnín.“ And though he knew he could not leave her now, he sensed that the boundaries between them were shifting.
“I am not afraid of you.” She reached for his palm and covered it with hers. “I am more afraid of what will happen at Tara.”
He could give her no answer, for they both knew the danger that lay ahead. “What are you most afraid of?”
She moved in closer, turning to rest her cheek against his heart. He wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent that haunted him at night. “I’m afraid that I’ll be powerless to help my father. That I’ll be forced to watch him die, and there will be nothing I can do to save him.”
There was a soft tremor in her body, and he held her close. Her pain reminded him of what he’d felt for Carice—of all the years of helplessness, wondering when she would die. And though his sister was now safe, he knew the illness could take her at any moment.
“Do you think your mother was right? Did Devlin cause your scars?” he asked.
“No.” Her answer held the quiet weight of a daughter’s love. “I don’t know why she said what she did. Maybe it was greed. Or maybe it was her own hatred. But I can’t believe my father would have done anything to hurt me.”
The whisper of her voice held years of pain and regret. He stroked back her hair, not knowing what to say. But the sudden intimacy between them was like nothing he’d known before. Here, in the dark, it seemed as if she was laying herself bare before him.
Taryn moved her hand over his chest. “I used to go out walking with him. He talked to me, and no matter what Mother said, he did care about me.” She paused a moment and added, “I know he had a terrible temper. My parents fought often, and I tried never to make him angry. He liked it when I obeyed him and remained quiet while he talked.”
Killian said nothing, but her remark sent a warning through him. “And what did your mother think about the time you spent with him?”
Taryn pulled back. “She hated it. I never could tell whether it was jealousy that he spent time talking with me or whether she was afraid of him. Maybe she thought he would set their marriage aside and send her away.”
Killian said nothing, but inwardly, he sensed that there was a threat toward Taryn. And whether it came from her father or her mother, he couldn’t be certain. But he remained guarded, not trusting either of her parents.