Muirne sighed and ladled a spoonful of stewed cherries onto Kieran’s plate. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? His family sold him into slavery.”
Kieran’s face became strained. “No. They didn’t sell me. I sold myself.” He stood, thanking Muirne for the meal. “Forgive me, but I have work I must do. Thank you for the meal.” Seconds later, he’d gone. Iseult stared over at Muirne, who looked as shocked as she felt.
“Sweet Mary.” Muirne reached over for Kieran’s plate. “I can’t believe it.”
Neither could Iseult. Why would any man willingly surrender his freedom? What gain could there possibly be?
“Now there is a true nobleman,” Muirne sighed again like a lovelorn maid. “He probably gave the profits to his family.”
Iseult helped her clear the table off, not entirely believing it. There was far more to Kieran’s story than this.
Outside, she finished cleaning the remainder of the fish until her eyes drooped and her fingers were sore. She’d nicked her fingers on the blade more than a few times. But it didn’t take as long as she’d thought, since Kieran and Muirne had both helped earlier.
Iseult set aside three watertight baskets and divided up each man’s share, deducting the fish Kieran had eaten at the meal. Last, she filled each basket with a brine solution to preserve the fish until they could be smoked tomorrow morning.
Wearily, she crossed to a trough of water and rinsed her hands.
Muirne’s foster sons were more than happy to bring Davin and Orin their baskets, and she planned to bring Kieran his own share.
The ringfort was quiet and dark, save for the torches flickering around its diameter. Even with only nine fish, the basket was heavy. Iseult strained under the weight, reminding herself that it wasn’t much further. She’d give him the fish, and then the man could do whatever he liked.
Iseult set the basket down in front of his door and knocked sharply upon the door. After a few moments of silence, she decided he must have gone to speak with Davin. Opening the door, she hefted the basket of fish and staggered inside with it.
To her surprise, Kieran sat at the bench, two oil lamps providing the light while he sketched a design with charcoal.
“Why didn’t you open the door?” she asked, dropping the basket in front of him.
“I didn’t want visitors.” He continued working upon a pattern of intricate lines.
“I’ve brought your fish. They’re in the basket.” She added, “I packed them in brine, so they’ll keep until tomorrow.”
Kieran nodded, still not looking up from his work. Once again, she felt as though she’d done something wrong. “Why are you behaving this way?” she demanded. “You won’t even look at me, will you? I cleaned your fish, and you haven’t the courtesy to say anything at all.”
He set the charcoal down and stared at her. “You know exactly why I’m staying away from you, Iseult.” He stood, his body shadowed by the lamps. In the tiny space, she grew aware of him. The gruff tone of his voice and the way he moved, like a hunter, froze her in one place.
“I don’t, no.”
Liar.
She forced herself not to move as he closed the distance. Kieran stood only a palm’s distance away, intimidating her with his nearness. His hands smelled of fresh wood, and his hair was damp.
“I think you do know. And that is why you should leave right now.” His voice was barely above a whisper, and his hand caught her chin.
Though her instincts warned her to flee, she couldn’t seem to move. His eyes mesmerized her, along with the lean planes of his face. He was unlike any man she’d known, and her heartbeat raced beneath her skin.
Don’t do this, her mind warned. But her impulses didn’t listen.
She reached out and her palm touched the warm skin of his neck. Her own flesh seemed to answer, and the interior of the hut blazed with heat. He made her feel everything she didn’t feel with Davin. And the thought alarmed her.
“I’m not your enemy,” Iseult whispered.
“Yes, you are.” And then his mouth descended upon hers, hot and wicked. His hand threaded through her hair, dragging her face to meet his kiss.
He offered no mercy, no tenderness. Only wild, forbidden desire. Her body flooded with heat, her breasts tightening at the feel of his skin pressed against hers. This was what she’d been missing with Davin. Even the one lover she’d had, the father of her child, could not compare to this.
His kiss bruised her lips, but she didn’t care. She lost herself in him, grasping his shoulders for balance. All the frustration she felt towards him, the anger and need came crashing down.
His tongue slipped inside her mouth, carnal and sensuous. Between her legs, she ached to feel him, to know his touch. Her mind cried out a warning to stop, but she didn’t have the strength to push him away. Shame filled her, and at last, she lowered her head to break the kiss.
