‘I don’t know. But you could try—’
‘That isn’t what I want. I want what my brothers have. I want to be a leader, with my own people to protect.’ He moved a strand of hair from her cheek, the subtle gesture burning her with need.
He dreamed of the impossible. How could he want so much? ‘Is there something wrong with living in a simple manner?’
‘It’s not enough for me.’
The seriousness in his voice caught her heart. He meant it. If he somehow managed to defeat Flynn Ó Banníon, he would not be content to live with her. With a shattering clarity, she understood that their differences were greater than she had imagined. Once again, she felt like the young maiden reaching out for the warrior far beyond her reach.
‘What will you do?’ she managed to ask, though she feared his answer.
‘It depends upon the outcome of this battle. If I win, then I will compete to become chieftain of a tribe. I have relatives in the west who could help me.’
Grief balled up in her throat, for she knew with a sense of finality that this was the end for them. ‘There is another way,’ she offered. ‘You could marry.’
His hand moved down her body to the curve of her waist. The tender gesture startled her. ‘I could,’ he acknowledged. ‘But few of the nobles would allow a younger son to wed their daughters.’
Aileen hid the sinking feeling in her stomach. He hadn’t denied the possibility of marrying someone else. She already knew he would never surrender his dreams of defeating Ó Banníon.
It left her with this one night to be with him. She covered his hand with her own, lacing her fingers in his.
‘I don’t intend to marry,’ he said. ‘If I cannot gain what I want by my own strength, then I won’t use a woman to get it.’
In a surprise motion, she rolled him to his back. Straddling his waist, she pinned him to the ground. He let her hold him captive, staring at her in disbelief.
‘It seems I’ve gained what I want, with my own strength.’ She wound her arms around his neck. ‘Be with me this night. I need you.’
Connor reached up and lowered her gown from her shoulders, exposing her skin to the cool night air. His palms reached up to cup her breasts. Her nipples tightened with the roughness of his skin against hers. He sat up, keeping her straddled against him. The arousing feel of his erection rocking against her womanhood brought a rush of wetness.
His mouth moved to the curve of her neck, his hands slipping off the rest of her gown. She lay naked, exposed to the darkening sky and the man she loved. By the gods, she wanted to curl up and weep. But this might be her last night to ever see him. Tomorrow they would arrive at Flynn Ó Banníon’s fortress, and preparations for the fight would begin.
‘I am thirsty,’ Connor said suddenly. Aileen pushed him back and rose. Her bare skin rose with goose bumps as she moved toward the stream.
No, she was not a woman whom he could wed. But for this night, she would take him into her arms, as before. She thirsted for him as well, to take him inside her and to feel the rush of pleasure burning in her womb.
Cupping water between her palms, she brought it to him. He drank from her fingertips, some of the water spilling upon her body. Connor removed the rest of his clothing and laid her next to the stream. He dipped another handful of the water and let it pour over her skin.
‘It’s cold!’ she gasped, but her words broke off when he began to drink from her. His hot mouth tasted a path to her breasts. He took the nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over the cockled tip. Heat blazed within her, and he kissed a path lower, sipping water from the hollow of her stomach.
Lower still, to her hips. He spread her legs apart, and Aileen’s breath choked in her throat. ‘There’s no water there,’ she said.
‘There isn’t?’ His gaze turned knowing. ‘I’ll have to look and see.’ He bent between her thighs, his tongue moving to her womanhood. Aileen gasped when he tasted her deeply, running his tongue to the most sensitive part of her. He sucked hard, and vicious pleasure rocked through her. She clutched his hair, her body shaking with desire. Coils of need wound tighter as he tormented her.
Then abruptly he moved atop her. She cried out in shock and ecstasy as he filled her, again and again.
‘I love you,’ she whispered.Even though he would not stay.
He covered her mouth with his own, pushing her over the edge until she trembled with release. It would never be like this again, not with any other man.
Holding him against her, she closed her eyes. He grasped the corner of herbratand rolled the long shawl to cover them. Their bodies nestled together, and Aileen closed her eyes.
When she was certain he was asleep, she whispered, ‘God be with you, Connor.’
To their credit, Connor’s brothers did not remark upon their absence that night. Ewan’s face turned crimson when Aileen greeted him. She tried to behave as if nothing were wrong, but Connor’s self-satisfied expression proclaimed exactly what they had been doing.
After another full day of riding, they reached Flynn Ó Banníon’s stronghold. High wooden towers rose above an enormousrath. Though not as large as Laochre, the fortress had implemented several Norman building techniques. The outer curtain wall was over twelve feet high, and Aileen craned her neck to see the remainder of the dwelling.
Fierce and craggy, the fortress resembled its owner well. Flynn Ó Banníon was not known for being merciful to his enemies. Ropes of foreboding constricted within her.
