Her eyes met his, conveying so much more than the simple word. Inside, almost nothing looked the same. The floor had been swept, the furnishings dragged about and rearranged. The curtains at the sleeping benches had all been tied open and a good fire burned at the hearth.
“Put your weapons here.” She took them from him and laid them beside the door. “Come near the fire. Ye be wet to the skin.”
“Aye.” But he did not move from where he stood. “Liadan, be there ghosts here?”
She gazed around the place and bit at her lip. “I suppose there are. But we have come to an understanding.”
“Ye wish to stay here, then?”
“I wish to stay here tonight. Wi’ ye.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
The ache thathad dogged Liadan all the day long eased only when Ardahl came through the door. A persistent sort of hunger it had been, gnawing at her despite all her other worries and preoccupations, without stopping.
When she saw him standing there with his hair and clothing dripping wet, the relentless worrying—like a dog at its bone—at last ceased. He was here. From that moment, nothing else mattered.
She’d done her best this day to cleanse the hut. To fashion it anew as her own. She did not know if she’d succeeded, but the fire burned low and bright. She had food set aside—for Ardahl, only for him. Everything from now on would be for him.
“Is my mam no’ here?”
“She has gone to help at a birthing. A difficult one. Imagine, a babe choosing such a time to be born, and backward, so she said when she stopped on her way.” Liadan caught Ardahl’s gaze. “She will no’ be back tonight.”
“Ah.” He said no more, but she caught the flicker of the thoughts, light and dark, in his eyes. Just the two of them here alone. Them and the ghosts.
The ghosts had better turn their eyes away, given what Liadan had in mind.
“Come. Get those wet things off. I will fetch a cloth.”
When she returned with one, he had taken a few steps closer to the fire but had not otherwise complied with her instructions.He stood, hands dangling at his sides, only his gaze following her.
She tugged off his hood—sodden—and began untying the bindings of the leather armor beneath. She stripped away the armor. Took the cloth and dried his face. His arms. Moved around to his back. His hair hung past his shoulder blades. She gathered it into the cloth before returning to the front and beginning to unfasten his belt.
“Liadan—”
“Aye?” She kept her tone light even though her fingers trembled. Not with fear, or even honest nerves. With desire.
She had wanted this man a long time. Much had come between her and her desire. Now it had become so much more than a physical want.
When she went down on her knees before him to unfasten the bindings over his leggings, he stiffened and seized her shoulders.
“Liadan—”
“What?” She gazed up at him, met his eyes. “Did I no’ tell ye earlier what I wanted?”
“Ye did. but I am here in your brother’s stead. To all purposes, Iamyour brother.”
She got to her feet. “Ye could no’ be less my brother had ye descended from the moon. Now, d’ye have any hurts ye need tending? Before I finish removing your clothing, I would know.”
Stricken silent, he shook his head.
She had an excuse to strip him down, him being wet from the rain. No such excuse to remove her own clothing, though she shed it anyway, not quite daring to meet his eyes. Though she had never experienced the act she wished to perform this night, it required little or no covering on either of their parts.
She’d seen her brother naked while growing up. Living in such close quarters, glimpses in passing proved unavoidable.She’d never thought much of it. Men and women were, aye, different. There was a purpose in it, planned by the gods.
No unintended glimpse she’d ever caught of any man approached this.
He was beautiful, her Ardahl. So beautiful, despite the wounds, scrapes, and bruises that fair covered him, it stole her breath away. Made her heart pound. Made her fingers quiver.
