‘You don’t have to hold him so firmly,’ he told her. ‘Trust that he won’t harm you.’
She sent him a wry look. ‘My backside does not believe you.’
‘’Twas only because you fought. A horse like this one is used to pulling a plough or a wagon. He’s a gentle one, I promise.’
Killian ran his hands over the gelding’s neck and then spied Harold falling further behind. ‘Keep walking. I’m going to get the cat.’ He left her briefly to pick up the grey animal, before he deposited the feline in the basket on the horse’s back. Harold curled up inside the dark space and was content.
‘Why did the cat follow us instead of staying with Carice?’ she asked.
‘Harold believes he’s my cat. He goes where I do.’ And he rather liked the animal. ‘He sometimes brings me mice, in case I’ve nothing for dinner.’
The appalled look upon Taryn’s face was almost laughable. ‘You...you don’t get that hungry, do you?’
He sent her a mischievous smile. ‘Not often.’ He let her make of that what she would, though he’d never dined upon mice in all his life. ‘But it’s good that Harold wishes to take care of me.’
Her steps were slowing, and he knew she was growing tired from all the walking. A lady was not accustomed to such a long journey, and he wanted her to attempt riding once again.
‘Lady Taryn, do you want to try to ride now? If I hold on to you and lead the horse?’
She was already shaking her head. ‘No, walking is fine. I’ll be all right.’
He ignored her and scooped her up into his arms, continuing the walk. ‘You’re weary. I can see it in the way your pace has slowed.’
‘Killian, put me down,’ she protested. ‘This isn’t necessary.’
‘You walked from Ossoria to Carrickmeath,’ he reminded her. ‘I was wondering where your horses were, but now I know. If you made that journey, then likely your feet are raw from all the walking.’
She said nothing, which only confirmed his suspicions. ‘You should not walk another great distance, my lady.’
‘But you cannot carry me to Laochre. It’s too much of a burden on you.’ She held on to him with her arms around his neck, and he was quite conscious of her softness pressed against him. Her black hair fell across his shoulders, and the scent of her body was like a spring meadow. He wondered what it would be like to feel her hair falling upon his bare skin. She was blushing being this close to him, but he didn’t mind her weight at all.
‘I’m going to lift you on to Francis’s back, but I won’t take my hands off you,’ he said. ‘I’ll be holding you and can take you off at any moment.’
She was about to argue again, but he met her gaze. ‘Trust in me, Lady Taryn.’ She held his gaze, and he saw the worry in her eyes. ‘I won’t let any harm come to you, and I won’t be letting go.’
Again, he waited. She was studying him as if trying to decide whether or not to believe him. ‘I know I should try,’ she said. ‘But the very thought makes me tremble.’
Her honesty reminded him of a wild creature that was too afraid to come near. He needed to build her trust, to coax her to believe in him.
‘I won’t let go,’ he said again, lifting her up. She had her eyes closed, and sure enough, he saw her hands shaking. He kept his hands upon her waist, and she gripped his wrists with both of her palms.
‘If you lift your leg over, you’ll feel more balanced,’ he advised.
She was biting her lower lip, but eventually, she managed to adjust her skirts and lift her leg over.
‘I don’t like this,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so far from the ground. I feel like the horse knows how afraid I am.’
In that, she was right. Francis was obediently walking, but there was a tension in him, as if the horse sensed Taryn’s distrust. Killian needed to ride behind the Lady, to take command of the horse and increase their pace.
‘Move forward on the saddle, and I’ll ride with you,’ he said.
‘I’d rather not,’ she confessed. ‘If you get on, he’ll throw us both off again.’
He suspected nothing would talk her into it, and if they wanted to reach Laochre by nightfall, they had to ride. Killian moved her foot from the stirrup and stepped into it, swinging up behind her.
‘I said—’
‘I know what you said.’ But he had to take charge of this situation, before they lost more time. He held Taryn around the waist and told her, ‘Relax and let me control Francis. Don’t fight me on this.’
Her hands dug into his knees, and when he leaned in, he saw that her eyes were tightly closed. Francis could sense her discomfort, and if she continued to hold herself in this way, the horse might fight back.
‘Breathe, my lady.’
She nodded, but her knees were tense around the animal, her body rigid with fear. ‘I’m trying.’
It wasn’t enough. He kept both hands upon the reins, her body between his legs. ‘Relax your legs. Let them go loose around Francis’s back. He can feel how nervous you are.’
‘I am nervous,’ she said. ‘And I can’t simply stop feeling this way.’
‘Open your eyes,’ he ordered. ‘Look at the woods surrounding us.’ The morning light cast beams across the barren branches of the trees. In the distance, he heard the noise of a stream trickling across stones. It was cold, and a bitter wind swept over them as they rode.
Taryn lifted her face upward, clearly trying hard to set aside her fears. He touched her right knee. ‘Stop trying to hold on with your knees. Let them be.’ He kept his hand there, but when she pressed her bottom back against his groin, his reaction was swift.
By the gods, she smelled good. Her hair rested against him, and her neck was bared. He wondered what it would be like to taste that delicate skin, to touch her. Her earlobe appeared soft, and he imagined taking it into his mouth while he reached around to cup her breasts in his palms.
Her scars marred that perfect skin, but her black hair and blue eyes were striking. He kept his hands frozen in place, forcing back the attraction he didn’t want to feel.
‘Calm yourself,’ he said quietly. ‘Breathe slowly and watch the trees. Let your arms and legs relax and trust that I will control the horse.’
Her shoulders lowered, and it did seem that she was trying. Even so, he kept his arms around her waist while he held the reins.
‘How far are we from their castle?’
‘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, 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 plough, 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 towards 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 travelling 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 woollen 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 towards 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 realise 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 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 realise 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 towards 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 recognise the social distance between them.
She swallowed hard and then regarded him. ‘Isn’t that what travelling 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 dishonourable 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 fo
rthright, 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 dishonourable to take advantage of her innocence. A good man would release her, letting 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 of hers. 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.
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