Chapter Twelve
Somanythoughtspassedthrough her mind, reasons why it was wrong to stay. Kieran was a slave, and she was betrothed to another man. Her hand closed upon the door, but she didn’t open it.
Was it right to marry Davin? She didn’t love him, but he would be a good husband. In the past few weeks, her doubts had grown stronger. Davin didn’t want to find Aidan, not the way she did.
And Kieran had made no promises, no mention of what there was between them. Intense attraction and desire, little else. He was going to escape, given the opportunity. And heaven knew, she couldn’t stop him.
Why was he looking at her that way? Like he wanted to remove every clothing barrier and fill her body with his own.
“You don’t care anything about me,” she whispered, as he drew nearer.
“If that were true, I’d have left at dawn.” His hand moved to her braid, loosening the strands. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” With his hands he touched her forehead, moving down to her eyelids and the curve of her cheek. “I’ve captured your spirit in wood. And I’ve tried to drive you out of my mind.”
He dipped low, tasting her lips softly. She had every opportunity to pull away from him. He tantalized her, with the touch of his mouth upon hers. His work-roughened hands slid across her nape, spilling through her hair.
He smelled of wood, the clean scent of fresh shavings, and his kiss left no room for regrets. After this day, she’d never see him again. And so, she surrendered to her desires.
She wound her arms around his neck, and he pulled her tightly against him. She felt his arousal against her stomach, her body rising to answer his call. He slid his thigh between her legs, balancing her weight. Her breath shattered at the pressure against her most sensitive part.
And he seemed to know it, too. He deepened the kiss, and she tasted his tongue against hers. His hands moved over her shoulders, down to her waist, caressing her.
Without thinking, she grasped his hand in hers. She needed him to touch her, needed him to fill the emptiness inside her. She placed his hand upon her breast, and instantly her nipple tightened with pleasure.
Kieran hissed beneath his breath, and his hungry gaze left no doubt of his own arousal. She had wanted him to ease the aching sensations, but instead, he brought his leg deeper between her thighs. A rush of moisture caught her, and she moaned as he moved himself against her center.
“Críost,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to her throat. With his hands caressing her breasts, she couldn’t breathe anymore. She needed him desperately, and when he pulled her gown lower, he lifted her nipple and took her into his mouth.
The hot, delicious sensation went straight to her core, and with a single move of his leg, a fiery rush caught her in a gripping release. So fast. She melted against him, clinging to him while his mouth caught hers in another intense kiss. Dark and forbidden, she tasted the temptation he offered. And wanted more.
When he broke free, her body trembled with needs she didn’t understand. Never had she felt this way with a man. She almost wept, for this was the way it should have been with Davin.
He didn’t speak a word, but his hands continued to stroke her. His palms filled with her breasts before he lifted her gown up again. “Goodbye,a mhuirnín,“ he murmured, kissing her one last time.
Tightness gathered in her throat, and she wanted so badly to cry. Her skin felt feverish, raging with need for him. He stepped away, and her knees shook.
Outside, shouts broke through the stillness. Iseult’s pulse trembled, and Kieran lifted a finger to his lips. “Stay here,” he warned. “Don’t come out until we know it’s safe.”
Kieran grasped a knife, stepping outdoors into the blinding sun. In the distance, he saw the line of tribesmen and beyond them, the Norse enemy. The sight cooled his ardor, steeling his mind upon its purpose. He had to protect Iseult and use the opportunity to flee the ringfort.
He moved to the edge of the palisade, surveying the battle outside. The enemy forces were not as large as he’d thought. The Norse raiders numbered about thirty, with three mounted horsemen. Kieran shielded his eyes, noting their weapons. Mostly spears and archers, but a few wielded the deadly double-bladed battle-axes. They wore iron masked helms and carried large wooden shields with elaborate iron bosses in the center.
Leading the men was the raider who had tried to seize Iseult. The same hostage who had let himself be captured, in order to better understand the ringfort’s defenses. Dressed in the leather armor of the Norsemen, it was clear that he was one of them.
Mentally Kieran adjusted the plan he’d formed. He signaled to Orin and Hagen, meeting them both just before the gates. “We need archers. How many of your men and women can wield a bow?”
Hagen shrugged. “Perhaps a dozen. Some of the younger boys can shoot.”
“You’re going to need them.” Kieran nodded to the walls. “Your only hope of surviving this attack is to shoot as many arrows as possible. Pick them off before they can get to the ringfort. But don’t shoot our men.”
Hagen gave the orders, and Orin handed Kieran a bow and quiver. He returned to the woodcarver’s hut where Iseult waited. She had bound her hair back up in the long braid and had straightened her gown. She looked perfectly composed, not at all flustered by the way he’d touched her. Only her swollen lips gave evidence to their stolen moment.
Before he could breathe, she threw herself into his arms, holding tight. Even knowing he could not have her, could never be with her, he savored the feeling. His palm caressed her back, while he imagined her bare skin against his own. More than anything in the world, he wanted to join his body with hers, and feel the fierce tremors of her release.
His mind filled up with a thousand reasons of why he had to leave her behind. And yet, all he wanted to do was drag her to the back of the hut and satisfy his craving.
Damn it all, she made him want to live.
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to let her go. Iseult rested her palms upon his chest. “What’s happening?”
