“Please,” she begged, tugging his trews open. She took him in hand, guiding him to where she craved him. “Please.”
At last, he obliged, entering her slowly and taking her breath away.
“More,” she demanded. “Cormac, I want more.” Astrid lifted her hips, taking in as much of him as she could. She felt so full, so complete. And, somehow, still wanting.
Everything faded to a blur of pressure and pleasure and the man who gave it to her. Under the flickering lights of stars and spirits they moved together, until Astrid no longer knew where she ended and Cormac began. A pressure, an urgency built inside her, demanding, begging. But for what, she did not know.
He drove into her harder and harder, both of them gasping for breath as they joined. A noise of pure ecstasy escaped him as he pulled her close to him, the look on his face and the feel of him inside her shattering the world around her.
Her eyes squeezed shut. She held onto him as though he would keep her from falling apart. It felt as though time stoppedaltogether, leaving only the two of them on the cliffs under the dancing sky.
When she opened her eyes again, she searched Cormac’s expectant face. And what she saw there scared her into action, for the only word she could use to describe it was ‘love.’ And she wasn’t ready to think about that just yet.
He helped her back into her dress, wrapping her in blankets as she settled back in his lap, her head resting once more on his strong chest, his arms holding her tight. That had been amazing, magical. But she had let her feelings run wild, and she wasn’t entirely certain she’d made the right decision. Everything felt so right with Cormac, which terrified her all the more.
“I’ve been thinking about your problem,” he whispered as they gazed up at the twinkling stars. “I have another idea.”
“It’s almost certainly better than anything I’ve come up with,” she smiled. “Tell me, then. What do I try next with my brother?”
“Tell him you choose me.”
She sat up, looking at him over her shoulder in confusion. Hadn’t that been their plan all along? “And then?”
His throat worked over the words. “And then marry me.”
“But,” she stammered, “you can only marry for love.”
“Aye.” His eyes silently pleaded with her.
Astrid’s stomach dropped. He loved her. That was what he was saying. And he wanted toactuallymarry her. She felt as though she’d swallowed her tongue, a familiar panic descending over her.
Cormac took her hands in his. “Without fear, there is no courage,” he whispered, somehow reading her mind.
She wanted to make him happy, to say what he wanted to hear. But her mind went blank in the face of her terror. “I’m too afraid.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
He’d made ahuge mistake.
Of courseone evening of fooling around wouldn’t change the way she felt about him. Or, rather, it wouldn’t change the way she thought about him. She clearly felt the same desire that he did for her, but Cormac wasn’t so naive that he believed desire and love to be the same. He could see it in her face, that she even now searched for a way to let him down without hurting him overmuch. What a fool he’d been. He, of all people, should have known better. She’d been more than clear of her expectations.
She didn’t want a husband.
She chose him because she knew he would refuse the marriage, and now he’d gone and made a mess of it. Ignoring the ache in his chest, he decided to cut his losses and spare both of them any further embarrassment.
“We could actually wed,” he continued, cursing himself the entire time, “and if you wish to stay in Dyflin with your family, you’d be free to do so. We could have a marriage in name so that you could keep living the life that you want.”
The lights continued dancing above them, but the woman in his arms had long since claimed Cormac’s attention.
“I couldn’t do that to you.” She shook her head, tresses the color of coals in a fire brushed his face as she turned to look at him. “I like you a lot, Cormac, and I would be lucky to marry you—any woman would. But you deserve someone who can’t wait toleave their home and follow you back to Brian’s kingdom. Don’t waste your marriage of love on me.”
On someone who couldn’t love him back, was what she meant. His throat clenched. Understanding stabbed him like a knife in the gut, but he’d already laid it all before her, so he may as well press on.
“It could only be you, Astrid,” he whispered, hating the truth in his words and wishing it weren’t so. “And if I could give you the life you wish, it wouldn’t be a waste.”
“I’ll think on it,” she promised, “but we should probably head back. It’s getting late, and tomorrow will be difficult.”
“What’s tomorrow?” He grasped onto the change of subject.
