She crossed the small space, standing before him. "Why? There's nothing wrong with your home." Truth to tell, she preferred it to the vast castle, for no one would criticize her here, nor note her sorrowful lack of skills.
"Save your pity. I know what this place is. But it won't be this way always."
Did he believe she was lying to him? It wasn't pity, not at all. "Why would you say that?"
"I want to provide more for my family and the woman I'll wed one day." He stared at the beams of the house, not looking at her while he spoke.
Jealousy slashed through her common sense at the mention of a wife. She found herself blurting out, "Have you picked her out already?"
His eyes flared with sudden desire. "I have one in mind."
Before she could speak another word, he trapped her against the bench and table, gripping her head while he kissed her. It felt like years since he'd touched her, and desire rippled through her instantly. His hands moved fast, tearing through each layer of clothing while she fought to free him from his tunic and trews.
A savage need poured over her like water, racing through her veins in the need to join with this man. She kissed his chest, running her hands over his shoulders and arms. "I want you inside me."
"You're going to have to wait, then. For I've not finished touching you."
After her clothes lay upon the ground, Ewan laid her back onto the table, her spine pressed against the wood. He fastened his mouth upon her nipple, using his teeth and tongue to drive her into a deeper need. He wrapped her legs around his waist, his hard shaft pressed against her wet center. "I'm not letting you return to Ceredys, Honora. I won't risk your safety with John."
He squeezed her bottom, forcing his length to ride against her cleft. Easing the tip of himself inside, she tried to sheathe him, but he wouldn't allow it.
"It's my choice to make," she breathed, moaning when his mouth moved down to her navel. He lowered himself until he was kneeling on the ground, her legs wide open before him.
"Not any more," he growled against her sensitive flesh. With his tongue, he tasted her intimately. He stroked a rhythm upon her flesh, the building pressure rising high inside her.
"I made a vow to the people," she gritted out, gasping when he lifted her hips.
"And I'm making a vow to you. You're going to stay here. I'll go in your place and free them, if it means that much to you."
"It's my battle. Not yours."
"Argue you all you want,a ghrá. But I'll let no man harm you."
He plunged deep inside her, and she shattered, the white hot pleasure climaxing. Ewan lifted her ankles to rest upon his shoulders while he invaded and withdrew. She felt every inch of him sliding in deep, and each stroke brought her closer to another fulfillment.
She didn't like his supercilious declaration. "I won't be pushed aside again, Ewan. I'll face my own enemies."
He withdrew his thick length, gently turning her over until her elbows rested on the table, her knees spread wide on the bench. "Not John."
A moment later, he filled her from behind, driving himself so deeply, Honora found it impossible to think clearly. Her body was shaking violently, as he brought her to the edge of madness and sent her flying across. She half screamed when he penetrated, over and over. He grew even harder as he pumped inside, roaring as he reached his own climax.
Honora slumped over the table, unable to move. Ewan rested his face upon her back, still within her. "When I return," he breathed, kissing her skin, "I'll hire my sword out until I've made enough silver to give you your own estate."
Did he think he had to buy her affections? Was he expecting her to wait for a year or longer until he believed he had enough wealth?
"I don't need an estate. It means nothing to me." Especially if Ewan wasn't there. Couldn't he see that he would chain himself to a life of wandering? He would become a mercenary, a man whom she would hardly ever see.
"It means everything to me."
His words left her cold. This wasn't about wanting to provide a good place for her to live. It was about besting others, lifting himself up to the wealth of his brothers. He hadn't heard a word she'd said.
Why? Why was he behaving like this, as though she needed more to be happy? But then, he'd said it himself, hadn't he? He was the one who wanted an estate, not her.
After a time, he withdrew and cleaned himself, donning his clothes again. Honora struggled with theléineand overdress, and Ewan helped her with the laces.
"You should return to Laochre," he said, kissing her cheek. "I am staying here tonight, to take care of some things. I'll see you on the morrow."
Just like that, he dismissed her. Not a word about whether he wanted to marry her, whether he wanted her to live with him—nothing. Only a promise that he intended to go to Ceredys and leave her behind. To do what? Spin wool? Sweep the floors?
