“Touch me, Skye. It’s the best start.”
She sat up, her legs on either side of his torso. She couldn’t quite meet his gaze yet. Shyly she touched his chest with a trembling hand. The dark mat of hair was soft, his skin smooth and warm. Her hand moved to his shoulder, then down his well-muscled sword arm. In a sudden bold move she leaned forward and brushed his cheek with her breast. Niall softly caught his breath and waited for her next move. Slowly she rubbed his face and then ahard little nipple was against his lips. It was now Skye’s turn to gasp as she found the taut little peak in the warmness of his mouth. His tongue teased it, sending darts of fire through her. She wriggled, eyes half closed.
His arms came up around her, and she once more found herself on her back. He caught her hand and drew it down to his manhood. Unbidden she caressed him with devastating effect. He groaned into the dark and tangled night of her hair. The clean, heathery smell of her soap, the warm woman scent of her body maddened him. Again he slid his great sword into her sweet sheath.
Sighing, she took as much of him to herself as she could. Her arms held him as tightly as his held her.
“Put your legs about me, my darling. I cannot have enough of you.” His voice was strange, fierce and husky. Obeying, she cried out softly as she felt him drive deeper into her soft body. The world about her exploded into a whirlpool of pleasure upon pleasure. It could get no better, and yet it did—with each smooth thrust.
“Niall! Oh, Niall, I die!” she finally sobbed, seemingly unable to bear any more. He was experienced enough to control their spiraling rise, but he could not stop loving her. “Just a little more, Skye. Ah, God! You’re so sweet! I don’t want to stop!” he muttered thickly. “No! No! Don’t stop! Please, no!” she whispered back frantically. She did not want to leave this marvelous world. Deeper! Deeper! Faster! Faster! They were lost in each other. As they climaxed together she gave a long wail, half in joy, half in sorrow.
Gathering her to him, he crooned low, “Ah, Skye! Sweet Skye! You are perfection, my little love. Pure perfection! I love you so, sweetheart.”
Her blue-green eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but they shone with love. “Give me a son, Niall!” she whispered fiercely.
Tenderly he stroked her cheek. “In time, my darling. In time. Now sleep, Skye, my love. In the morning we will face the world with the shocking news that we would be together. We will need to be well rested to meet the uproar that’s sure to follow.”
“You meant it when you said you wouldn’t leave me?” Her voice trembled.
“Aye, sweetheart! Only the devil himself can separate us now, Skye.”
“I’d go with you into Hell itself, Niall,” she answered passionately.
At last, enclosed in each other’s arms, they fell asleep, trusting the power of their love.
CHAPTER 3
IN THE GRAY HALF-LIGHT BEFORE DAWNNIALLBURKE ANDSKYElay sleeping. Heart hammering, the little pot boy crawled through the unshuttered window and for a brief moment stared quite openmouthed at the two people lying on the bed. Both were naked. The man was on his stomach, face down, his arm flung across the woman. She was curled on her side. The pot boy, who was rarely freed from his kitchen, thought the two were the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. He felt saddened at what he must do. The woman stirred in her sleep and, guiltily recalling his duty, the boy tiptoed across the room. Softly sliding the bolt back, he opened the door.
Dubhdara O’Malley and three of his men-at-arms came silently into the room. O’Malley nodded to his retainers. Niall Burke was swiftly pulled off the bed, a cloth stuffed into his mouth. Then he was half-dragged, half-carried out of the room, the door shut softly but firmly behind him. Fiercely Niall struggled against his captors, who hustled him down into the main hall of the castle. He was not afraid, for he knew that if it had been his life they sought he would already be dead.
“You’ll not yell, my lord?” O’Malley asked him when they entered a room down the hall.
Niall shook his head. His arms were freed and the gag was pulled from his mouth. He took up the goblet of ale placed at his hand. Drinking it, he began to dress in his clothes, which the little pot boy had thoughtfully brought along. Niall Burke was furious, but arguing with the O’Malley stark naked put him at a disadvantage. His antagonist spoke first.
“You will be on your way immediately, my lord. Young O’Flaherty has spent an unhappy night, drinking and abusing Skye’s maid. The sight of you now could drive him to rashness. I should not like to answer to the MacWilliam if his heir were harmed.”
Niall yanked on his boots. “I want Skye’s marriage annulled, O’Malley! For three days I tried to get to you, to ask you to call off this marriage. I love Skye, and she loves me. I want her to wife. I’ll see that O’Flaherty is pacified with a new bride and a large bribe. Why do you think I did what I did last night? Toamusemyself,man? I love your daughter, O’Malley, and I hope my action will force O’Flaherty to give her up.”
Dubhdara O’Malley looked amazed. “Laddie, laddie! If I have nothing else in this world I have my good name and my good word. The word of Dubhdara O’Malley has never been questioned because it is as good as gold. I have never broken my word! I will not do so now. Skye was betrothed to Dom as a child. Even if I had postponed the marriage, your father would not permit you to marry an O’Malley of Innisfana. For you, it will be an O’Neill, an O’Donnell, or an O’Brien—daughters of the high aristocracy. Not my little lass.”
Niall’s silver eyes flashed. “She is fit to be a queen, O’Malley!”
“Ah, laddie, you’ll get no argument from me on that account! But my daughter is Dom O’Flaherty’s wife till death parts them. You’ve exercised thedroit du seigneuron the bride. There is nothing else here for you. Go home. Leave me to mend the broken fences, and my child’s broken heart.”
“I will not leave without Skye, O’Malley! She comes with me!”
The master of the castle barely nodded to his men. Niall Burke was tapped lightly on his head, rendering him unconscious. “Carry him to the boat, and tell Captain MacGuire to take him home. MacGuire’s to put this letter directly into the MacWilliam’s hand, and await a reply,” O’Malley said tersely.
O’Malley sat watching a moment as his most honored guest was slung over the shoulder of one of his men and removed from the hall. Then, without a backward glance, O’Malley returned to his daughter’s bedchamber. He shook her awake gently. “Skye, lass! Wake up now.”
Slowly her blue eyes opened, then widened in surprise. “Da?” Her gaze quickly swept the room, and her voice became a frightened whisper. “Niall?”
“Gone, Skye. Niall Burke has gone home.”
“No! He promised we would never be parted! He promised!”
“Men frequently make promises in the heat of passion that they have no intention of keeping,” said the O’Malley brutally. “Get up and get dressed, daughter. You’ll go with Eibhlin to her convent on Innishturk until Dom’s temper cools, and we’re sure you don’t carry Burke’s bastard. I’ll send someone to help you dress.”
