But in his gut, he knew that Adham Ó Reilly didn’t have the courage or the ability to appreciate a woman like Morren. The man would never understand the kind of hell she’d been through.
And if he dared to blame her for the attack, or treat her like an outcast . . . Trahern’s fingers curled into a fist, his mouth set in a dark line.
“I’m not going to marry Adham. Or anyone.” She took a deep breath, cutting off his arguments before he could voice them. “I’ll go with you toGall Tírbecause I want justice, the same as you. I’ve been cowering for long enough.”
She crossed her arms and looked him squarely in the eye. “I want to look upon their faces and let them know that they didn’t defeat me. And when I’ve done that, the nightmares will stop.” Her hands moved down to her midsection. “They took everything from me. I’ll have no children because of them.”
He wanted to deny it, but the words were trapped in his throat. His own memories came back, of the night she’d lost her child. Grief caught him like a blade between his ribs, along with the need to share a truth with her.
“You had a son that night,” he said.
Morren looked stricken, and her eyes filled up with tears again. He felt his own eyes burning, but he continued on. “He was too small to live, hardly larger than my palm. I baptized him with a little water and said a prayer for his soul.” He took a breath, finishing with, “He’s buried outside the hut.”
Silent tears ran down her cheeks, and he took her into his arms again, letting her weep. Though death had taken the lives of many, and certainly enough women had suffered the same loss as Morren, he felt her pain as his own.
“I thought I was going to die that night,” she confessed.
Trahern took her face in his hands, touching his forehead to hers. “But you found the strength to live.” For a long moment, he stood with her face close to his own. Her scent entranced him, like summer flowers.
Morren’s arms moved around his neck, returning the embrace. She held tightly to him, as if drawing strength only he could give to her. And though a part of him hesitated in offering comfort, this was no betrayal of what he’d had with Ciara. Morren needed him right now, and there was no sin in it.
The longer he held her, the more something within him began to shift. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to keep her within his arms, for she’d given him a chance at redemption. She was a beautiful, desirable woman who had lost as much as he had. Perhaps more.
And when she lifted her face, he needed to kiss her again. His mouth covered hers, soothing away her pain. Offering her the broken pieces of himself.
She was hesitant, unsure of herself. But a moment later, her lips moved upon his, kissing him back. Light as rain, her cool mouth quenched a thirst he didn’t know he had.
His body responded to her, and though their hips were not touching, he prayed she was unaware of her effect upon him.
Though he’d promised her it wouldn’t happen again, this wasn’t meant to be an act of desire—it was reassurance. Comfort and healing.
His mind was ordering him to end the kiss before he lost his head even more. But if he pushed her back now, she’d think it was because she repulsed him.
Far from it. He angled his mouth, tasting her lips, the sleekness of her tongue. So long it had been. Ciara hadn’t been much for kissing. She’d tease him, taking a quick kiss before holding him tight. She’d wanted his strength, and she delighted in it when he’d carry her off, bringing her some place where they could be alone to love one another.
Morren was different. She seemed to need the kiss, as though she were pushing away the darkness she’d suffered. And he let her kiss him as long as she wanted him to, his mouth moving against her hesitant lips.
Her hands moved to his head, touching the prickled scalp where his hair was growing back. She broke free and said, “It’s softer than I thought it would be.”
Her lips were swollen, her cheeks bright, as though she were too embarrassed to mention what had just happened between them. He didn’t know what to say.
She startled him, by bringing her hands over the hair he hadn’t shaved. “You should grow it back, Trahern.”
He wasn’t certain he wanted to. Not until he had his revenge and completed the task he’d set for himself.
She seemed to sense his reticence, but before she could pull her hands away, her hips accidentally bumped against his. She paled, realizing what reaction she’d evoked.
“Morren—“
She stepped back, covering her face with her hands. Her face had gone pale, but she took a deep breath. “Don’t say it. I wanted you to kiss me, so you didn’t break your promise. This was my fault.”
“No.” He met her gaze. “But it’s another reason why you shouldn’t come with me. It’s better for both of us if we go our separate ways.”
The longer he spent time with her, the more she evoked a desire he didn’t want to feel. He might inadvertently forget himself and frighten her.
Morren paled but didn’t move away. “You make me feel safe, Trahern. When I’m with you, I can forget about my past.” Her gaze moved down to the ground. “But I understand why you wouldn’t want me. Those men—“
Anger lashed through him. “Is that what you think? Do you believe that I hold you responsible for what those bastards did?”
