She put her hands on his cheeks, stood on tiptoe and stared up at him. Her kingfisher eyes, so bright and innocent. Then her mouth met his in a soft, urgent kiss. It was so unexpected that he froze for an instant. But when Briony’s tongue slid against his, Cullen took her wrists and forced her back from him.
The lass couldn’t have looked more hurt if he’d slapped her. ‘Forgive me,’ she sobbed. ‘I just wanted to thank you? Did I do wrong?’
‘Aye, for I am a married man.’
She blinked fat tears away, and they rolled down her cheeks, burning now under a fierce blush. ‘Oh, please, forgive me. Do not tell your wife, or she will cast me out.’
‘I will not, and she would not do that.’ Lowri was more likely to cast him out than Briony, given her current mood.
‘I am not myself, you see,’ cried the lass. ‘The wreck and the horror of what I saw, it has gone into my head, and I can’t get it out.’ Her hand came to his arm. ‘I am so very afraid, Cullen, and with no one to comfort me.’
She fell against his chest, little hands in fists, clutching on to him. Cullen peeled her off. ‘Give me the name of the man you areto wed, and where he bides, and I will send word to Cork as soon as may be, so that he can come and fetch you. Now I must go.’
‘Where?’ she howled.
‘In search of my wife. And her name is Lowri, by the way.’
***
Cullen caught up with Lowri. She stood in a field of long grass just at the point where the ground sank down to a brook gurgling headlong to the sea. Wildflowers studded the meadow with colour – yellows, blues and pinks. He could not have named them if he tried, for there was only Lowri, holding his mind hostage. She had on her drab grey dress. He had torn it off her many times already because he could not help himself. Something about its simplicity brought out her wild, dark beauty.
He ached to have her. The sun turned her black hair shiny as jet as it wafted around her shoulders and against her face. She turned to him, even though he did not shout her name. It was as if she sensed his presence, like a wild animal would. Her eyes were wet, thick black lashes sticking together and making her unbearably bonnie and vulnerable.
‘I should be on a ship, heading home to Fellscarp. I want to go and leave you behind, but I can’t,’ she blurted out, shaking her head, her hands in fists. Her eyes blazed against his with longing and an admission of weakness, and Cullen’s heart swelled to bursting in his chest.
He reached her in an instant. His mouth melted into hers in a desperate kiss. Cullen poured all his longing, need and desire into it. Lowri moaned and clung to him.
‘I’m a fool,’ she gasped.
‘We are both fools,’ he murmured as he pushed her down into the long grass, crushing the pretty flowers. A few fumbled moments had him inside her to his hilt. She was slick and ripe and eager, and he could barely hold himself back. But he did.
Cullen made love to Lowri under the sun, with the smell of crushed green grass around them and the hum of bees hovering over the meadow. He stared into her eyes as he rocked inside her slowly, lovingly. ‘I am your master,’ he gasped. ‘Not Butcher, not my father, not Donnan or Rory or your brother. You are mine, Lowri, and you’ll never have another man but me, do you hear?’
When he stopped moving inside her, she nodded.
‘And in return, you have my heart and my loyalty, always. I swear on this earth, this grass, these trees, while I lie inside you, that I did not betray you, and I never shall.’
Lowri tightened around him, moaning his name and digging her fingers into his back, his hair, his neck. Cullen was consumed by her as he reached a shattering release.
‘My love,’ he cried, and he meant it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lowri woke and sat up, stretching like a cat. She glanced over at Briony asleep beside her and cursed inwardly at having to share a bed with the lass. It had been three weeks since Briony’s rescue, but their guest still spent most of her waking hours abed, staring into space, pleading low spirits. She claimed that the horror of the wrecking and the dread of her upcoming marriage weighed on her. She did little to help around the cottage to earn her keep, but Cullen said they could not make her sleep before the fire like a dog, so Lowri had to share their bed with her. Cullen had taken to sleeping in the stable.
When their hunger for each other reached boiling point, Lowri and Cullen had to sneak away to furtive, hurried couplings in the stable or out in the fields. Many a tree in the woods had been desecrated by their lovemaking, too. It wasn’t that Lowri minded. The prospect of discovery added spice and made it all the more delicious, but sometimes she longed to snuggle against Cullen’s warm, smooth back in their own bed. She wanted him to take his time with her, the way he liked.
Lowri shook Briony awake. ‘Time to get up.’
The lass rubbed her eyes. ‘Can you not leave me be? It is barely light.’
‘Aye, but there is much to do.’
Briony glowered, pushing her dishevelled blonde hair out of her eyes, still managing to look beautiful. Lowri was reminded of her brother’s wife, Cecily, who possessed the uncanny knack ofloveliness in the most unfortunate of circumstances. But Cecily was not selfish or lazy. She loved Peyton to distraction, so Lowri had come to like her. Not so this creature, soft and spineless as a jellyfish.
Briony let tears well in her eyes. Another knack she possessed. ‘I feel so hopeless at my awful situation. What will become of me?’
‘You are to be married to a wealthy man. All will be well.’
