Warrior of Ice

by Michelle Willingham

  She was upset, he knew, but he was more interested in the way her blue eyes were shining with frustration. That sweet mouth was moving, talking about the High King and her father, but he wasn’t paying any attention at all. He was more interested in the softness of that skin and what he could do to those lips.

  ‘Connor wasn’t lying, you know,’ he interrupted.

  ‘Connor? What does he have to do with this?’ She crossed her arms and glared at him.

  ‘Men do fight over a beautiful woman.’ He caught her by the waist, keeping her there. Her face was flushed, and she appeared indignant.

  ‘Let go of me, Killian. And I’m not a beautiful woman.’

  ‘If I let go of you, that vicious animal might eat you,’ he teased. Harold was lying on his back beside the hearth, his long body stretched out with his paws tucked up. ‘I’m guarding you, don’t you see?’

  She elbowed him in the ribs, and struck the spot Connor had beaten earlier. Killian cursed and rubbed his side. ‘Son of Lugh, woman. Was that necessary?’

  ‘Was it necessary for you to fight over me?’

  He rose to his feet gingerly, trying to breathe with the bruised ribs. ‘Did you think I enjoyed watching him kiss you?’

  ‘It meant nothing,’ she protested. ‘I only just met Connor MacEgan.’ She blinked a moment and added, ‘But I don’t need to explain myself to you.’

  When he approached, she backed away, until her shoulders were pressed against the wall. Killian rested his hands on either side of her. ‘I didn’t like seeing him kiss you.’

  ‘Because you’re afraid a man like Connor would want to wed me instead? Because you’d lose your chance to steal Ossoria from me?’

  Was that what she thought? That he wanted only her kingdom?

  Killian leaned in so that his face was a breath from hers. ‘Do you think that’s all I’m wanting from you, Taryn?’

  Her blue eyes stared back at him with fury. ‘Of course that’s all you want. If I had no kingdom at all, you would never want anything to do with me.’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ he countered. ‘I’m not expecting you to believe me, but you are.’ He nuzzled her earlobe, leaning in to take it in his mouth. She exhaled sharply, her hands resting on his shoulders as if to push him away.

  ‘You do feel something for me,’ he said. ‘I can see the shivers rising upon your skin.’ He grazed his fingers over the gooseflesh there, and she closed her eyes in response. ‘I’m no good for you. And yet, you want what I offer you.’

  ‘You have nothing to give.’ She turned her face away, but though his hands remained upon the wall, she did not flee.

  He stole a kiss, nipping at her soft lips. Her mouth drifted open, and he kissed her lazily, stroking her mouth with his tongue. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, but again, she did not pull away.

  This time, he grew bolder, moving his hands to her waist. Lightly, he rubbed the base of her spine while he continued to kiss her. She was falling beneath his spell, her eyes closed while he seduced her with his mouth.

  He moved his hands higher, and against the linen underdress, he could feel the outline of her curves. When his hands moved beneath her breasts, he deepened the kiss, asking a silent question.

  ‘You are a wicked man,’ she breathed against his mouth. ‘I know what you’re trying to do.’

  ‘I cannot give you a bride price of silver or gold,’ he said in a low voice. ‘No riches or land. I have nothing at all.’

  Her blue eyes opened, and in them, he saw a hunger that mirrored his own. He had awakened her, opening her consciousness to another kind of temptation.

  ‘All I can give you is this.’ He cupped her breasts, gently caressing the erect nipples. She jolted as if he’d set her on fire, but she only bumped against the wall. Killian paused, keeping his hands in place while he leaned in to kiss her again.

  This time, he invaded her mouth with his tongue, all the while stroking her erect breasts. His own body was hard with need, and God, what he wouldn’t give to take her. But this wasn’t about satisfying his own lust. It was about pleasuring this woman, and showing her what there could be between them.

  ‘Y-you should stop,’ she murmured, gasping when he kissed her throat, still touching her breasts. ‘I can’t breathe.’

  ‘I don’t want you to breathe,’ he answered, loosening her laces. ‘I want you to feel the madness that’s burning inside me. I want you to lose yourself to my touch.’

  She was arching against him, fighting to catch her breath. And when he pushed back the shoulders of her underdress, he revealed her creamy breasts, tipped with darker nipples. Son of Lugh, she captivated him.

  ‘I want to taste you,’ he said, kissing the delicate skin of her shoulder as he moved lower. ‘I want to kiss you here.’ When she didn’t deny him, he gave in to the impulse, trailing a path down to the rosy nipple.

  She cried out when his mouth covered one breast, suckling her hard. Her hands locked in his hair, and she shuddered. Her knees buckled, and he caught her, clasping her hips and letting her feel the rigid erection. She was panting now, mindless to everything but him.

  ‘Wed me, Taryn, and I’ll touch you like this, night after night.’ He took the opposite breast into his mouth while he fingered the first. She was ragged, utterly aroused. ‘You can be free to do whatever you wish,’ he murmured against her skin. ‘No man will force you to do his bidding.’

  He knew she was wet, and the image of sliding into her depths was tormenting him.

  ‘Or if you don’t want me as your husband, I’ll leave you alone.’ He broke away, leaving her there. Her hair was tangled around her face, her lips swollen. Her underdress hung open, exposing her large breasts with glistening nipples from his mouth. She flushed beneath his stare and tried to cover herself.

  ‘I never meant to embarrass you in front of the castle, a stór,’ he said. ‘But I will kill any man who touches you in this way.’

  Her face was crimson as she clutched her gown. ‘No man has ever touched me the way you did just now.’

  ‘And no man ever will,’ he swore, stealing another kiss before he left her alone in the solar.

  * * *

  The next morning, Killian prepared a mount for Taryn while the MacEgan soldiers gathered supplies and their own horses. He hadn’t spoken to her since last eventide when he’d touched her so intimately. All night he had ached for her, haunted by her innocent reactions. He’d wanted to watch her come apart in his arms, but instead, he’d left them both wanting. If he hadn’t stopped then, he would have taken her innocence.

  Carice had sworn that she would stay behind, but he’d caught a glimpse of an unknown emotion in her eyes. She was too weak to travel, he knew, and Laochre was the safest place for her. But he sensed that his sister had plans of her own that she would not say. It did seem that her health was improving, and he was glad of it.

  When he saw Taryn approaching, he saw the wariness in her eyes. Her face blushed, and she admitted, ‘I still don’t like horses.’

  Killian lifted her on to the calm mare he’d chosen. ‘This one’s a gentle cailín. She won’t be harming you.’

  Taryn gripped the reins so tight, her knuckles were white. ‘Ride beside me, won’t you, please?’

  Her fear of horses hadn’t diminished at all, though at least this time, she hadn’t outright refused. She knew, as he did, that her father’s time was running out. It would still take a few days to reach Tara, and walking was not an option.

  ‘Are you wanting me to catch you if you fall?’ he said, recognising her fear.

  She sent him an embarrassed look, and he supposed that was exactly it. ‘I can endure this if I know you might be there to prevent me breaking my neck. Animals like you. They despise me.’

  ‘Now, that’s not true. Harold is quite fond of you.’ To p
rove his point, he scooped up the cat and settled the smoke-grey feline in the basket beside her.

  ‘Killian...’ she warned, but he swung up on his own mount, bringing it beside her.

  ‘It’s only a few days. You can survive this journey,’ he assured her. He was about to turn his horse around, to join the guards and servants at the end of the procession, but he saw the discomfort in her posture.

  Her hood was pulled up to hide her scars, and she was staring straight ahead, her back stiff. The mare was fidgeting, conscious of her anxiety. If she didn’t relax, the horse would grow skittish.

  ‘You need to calm yourself. The mare can feel your tension.’

  She gave a slight nod to show that she’d heard him, but it did nothing to diminish her rigid posture. Killian reached out and took her gloved hand. She gripped his palm tightly, and he said, ‘You’ve done this once before. You can do it again.’

  She didn’t look as if she believed that at all. To lighten the tension, he added, ‘You’re going to be breaking my fingers, if you don’t stop squeezing that hard.’ But still she didn’t look at him, nor did she relinquish her grip.

  Killian pulled his hand back and removed Taryn’s glove, placing it in the basket beside the cat before taking her palm in his. Her skin was cold, and he warmed it with his own hand. Somehow the contact did help her to settle her nerves, and she loosened her hold.

  ‘Steady yourself, Taryn.’ He stroked her hand with his thumb, and she let out a slow breath. Her shoulders lowered, and he continued to soothe her nerves.

  ‘I know I should not be afraid.’ Her voice was wooden, holding no faith in herself.

  ‘It takes time to let go of fear,’ he said. ‘And I will be here.’ He laced his fingers with hers, and she did seem more at ease. For a while, he rode alongside her. They remained in the midst of the MacEgan soldiers, with men leading the way and others behind them.

  Though she didn’t speak to him, he suspected she was embarrassed by what had happened between them. All night, he had been haunted by the visions of her soft skin and the way she’d sighed when he’d touched her. He wanted her in a way he’d never expected. And the more he kissed Taryn, the more he craved her.

  Killian fixed his gaze ahead, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle. They would ride until nightfall for the next few days. And after that, he could not say what would happen. The High King might deny that he’d ever fathered a son. Or if Killian dared to try a rescue, he might lose his life in the attempt.

  There were so many paths leading towards disaster, and it all depended on the High King’s decisions. Lugh, but he wished he held power of his own, a means of controlling the outcome of this.

  The cat peered out from his basket and began sniffing at Taryn’s other hand. She yelped when the animal placed his paw upon her hand. The mare whinnied, tossing her head at Taryn’s cry.

  ‘Easy,’ Killian soothed. ‘Harold was only wanting a bit of your affection.’

  ‘He startled me.’ She lowered her shoulders, visibly trying to relax. ‘I cannot believe I am travelling with a cat. You should have kept him beside you.’

  He took her hand once more and brought it to the animal’s head. She appeared wary, but allowed him to guide her fingers. ‘He likes it when you stroke his ears. A curious beastie, is young Harold.’

  For a time, he guided her hand over the animal’s soft fur. The cat purred contentedly, and Taryn did seem to relax. ‘There, now. He does like you, do you see?’

  She gave a nod. ‘I suppose so. But his claws make me nervous.’

  ‘He won’t harm you,’ Killian promised. He kept a gentle pressure upon her palm and met her gaze openly. Her blue eyes held wariness, and he said quietly, ‘He wants to have your touch upon him.’

  She looked down, biting at her lower lip, as if she’d guessed what he meant to say.

  They rode away from Laochre along the main road. The horses maintained a good pace, their hooves crunching over the ice and snow upon the ground. Taryn kept her heavy cloak over her shoulders, the folds shielding her face. Though he knew what lay beyond the folds of that hood, she was one of the most striking women he’d ever seen. She wore her emotions on her face, and there was a blend of gratefulness and worry over the coming days. The instinct came over him once more, to protect this woman.

  ‘Will you stay at my side, throughout this journey?’ she asked.

  ‘If that’s what you’re wanting,’ he answered. ‘Or if you need me to guard you from this ferocious beast.’ He released her hand and reached over to scratch the cat’s head. Harold leaned into his palm, purring and bumping his hand with his paw.

  He smiled at Taryn, and she softened to it. A faint smile edged her mouth, and the sight of it caught him low in the gut.

  ‘Take off the hood,’ he commanded.

  She grew serious. ‘No. I don’t want to frighten the men around me.’

  ‘You’ve no reason to hide your face. Not from me or anyone else.’ He suspected she’d grown accustomed to veiling her features, keeping herself apart from the world. ‘Their attention is on the road ahead and the land around them. Not you.’

  She hesitated, flinching when the cat pushed his head against her hand. ‘I don’t know if that’s wise.’

  ‘Then be unwise.’ He reached out and pulled the hood off. She had not worn a veil, but her hair hung down around her shoulders. The black strands held a slight curl, and they framed her pale skin, making her features stand out even more.

  She could not see past the scars to find the beauty that was there. He could see it, in the soft curve of her nose, the full lips that he’d tasted. And those eyes that looked upon him as if she saw a man, not a slave.

  He’d never before met a woman like her. And when she reached for his hand once again, the gesture shot a bolt of heat through him. He imagined those hands moving over his shoulders and down lower. Her fingers had dug into his skin when he’d pleasured her, and he wanted to feel her fingertips upon him once more. Killian let her hold his hand, not even caring how it must seem to others.

  ‘My father has only a few days left to live,’ she said suddenly. ‘Unless we can save him.’

  He gripped her palm. ‘We will try. But when we arrive at Tara, you must not let anyone know who you are. Keep yourself hidden among the other ladies at first until we know more. The High King will be angry enough that Carice is gone. Do not let anyone know that you are Devlin’s daughter.’

  She appeared uneasy about his orders. ‘I have to let them know. My reason for going to Tara is to beg an audience from the High King.’

  Killian didn’t like that idea at all. ‘He may cast blame upon you for Carice’s disappearance. You cannot take the risk.’

  ‘I must,’ she argued. ‘Surely, he is not a heartless man.’

  Aye, but he was. Rory Ó Connor was merciless to his enemies and had gained his position as High King because of his ruthless nature. Killian didn’t want Taryn endangering herself by the misguided belief that he would listen to a woman’s pleas.

  ‘You cannot let him see you,’ he commanded. ‘It is far too dangerous.’

  ‘I’ve come this far. I don’t want to turn away because of cowardice.’ She faced him, and her demeanour held a stubbornness that he hadn’t expected.

  ‘You don’t know the King and what he will do.’ How could she believe she could reason with a man who had ordered her father’s execution?

  ‘Neither do you,’ she pointed out. ‘And that is why we will keep on with this journey and meet our enemy face-to-face.’

  Killian let go of her hand, keeping his horse alongside hers. ‘This is a mistake, Taryn. He will not heed your wishes.’

  ‘We won’t know that, unless we ask.’

  * * *

  Somehow, Taryn endured the journey northeast. The hours on horseback had b
een exhausting, and after she dismounted, it was as if the ground were still moving beneath her feet. Killian had set up a tent for her, and there were several fires outside. Though he was keeping his distance, she noticed that he had brought hot stones inside the tent to warm the space. There was also a pile of furs for sleeping, as well as a flask of wine and food he’d set aside.

  Though she supposed he’d carried out the duties of a servant, it felt more personal than that. And that was her own fault.

  Never should she have allowed him to kiss her or touch her so intimately. Last night, her defences had crumbled like sand against the onslaught of the feelings he’d conjured. She supposed it was her own vanity. The physical touches had made her ache inside, awakening dormant feelings of longing. And though it was likely that Killian wanted only her kingdom, for a moment, she’d wished that he wanted her. The rest of the world had slipped away, and she’d surrendered to the mindless feelings of desire.

  As she ate, she wondered if he was dining among the other men. Would he share a tent with the other guards, or was he expected to sleep outside? The night air was bitterly cold, and she was grateful for the heat within the tent.

  Inside, she felt restless, not knowing what the next few days would bring. All day, Killian had remained at her side in silent support. Although she was still frightened of horses, she was thankful that she’d managed to get through the day without being thrown off.

  He didn’t want her to face the High King, and likely would be even more insistent as they neared Tara. But somehow, she wanted to believe that Rory could be merciful.

  There was a faint rustling outside her tent, and she saw Killian sitting in front of the opening. She went to pull back the flap and asked, ‘Was there something you needed?’

  He glanced at her and shook his head. ‘I’ll stay outside your tent to keep watch over you.’ Without waiting for her to agree, he pulled a hood over him and turned his back.

  Was he intending to sleep outside, in the cold? She didn’t like that at all.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she assured him. ‘You may sleep with the other men and there is no need to worry about me.’