“But what if...what if she doesn’t?” She lifted her gaze to his and reached out her hand to him.
He forced himself not to touch her. If he took her fingers in his, it would only tempt him to take the offering she didn’t want to give.
“As I told you before, I will go after her myself, if needed.” He stood and started toward the horse, only to have her follow him again.
“Killian, wait.”
He stopped in place, and the tension inside him tightened even more. She moved to stand in front of him. “You’re angry with me, and I want to know why. I thought, after all this, we could be allies. Perhaps friends.”
He stared at her in disbelief. Didn’t she realize how tightly strung he was? If she touched him, he didn’t trust himself to leave her alone. It had been so long since he’d enjoyed the softness of a woman’s body, he was rigid with frustration. The night he’d spent beside her in the roundtower had been torture, for she had fallen asleep with her head in his lap. It had been all he could do to leave her untouched.
And yet, she didn’t seem to know that he was on the edge of his control. She was far too desirable, and he had to do something to keep her at arm’s length. Anything.
“We could never be friends, Lady Taryn. I know what I am, and I know my place.” He didn’t want or need her pity.
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “For a man who wants to raise his status, you seem intent upon reminding me that you are afuidir. Would you rather I gave you orders? Do you want to be treated like a slave?”
He stiffened at that, but she wasn’t finished yet. “I’ve been kind to you, and I’ve tried not to let my fears hinder you. I don’t deserve your hatred, and I cannot change the way I look.”
This wasn’t at all about her looks. It was about trying to protect her virtue, and she didn’t seem to realize the risk she was taking.
“I don’t hate you,” he said quietly. But the expression on her face said that she didn’t believe him at all.
Killian reached out for her hands, warming her palms with his. Lugh, she was such an innocent. “You shouldn’t be kind to a man like me,” he said roughly. Already she was a strong temptation, and she represented everything he wanted but couldn’t have.
Taryn stared at him, her face confused. “Why? Is there something wrong with being kind?”
“Aye.” He reached out a hand to trace her scars, caressing the marred skin. Though he had no right to touch her, he wanted to push her away, to make her fear him. It was the only way he could fight against the attraction toward this woman. He cupped her chin and stared into those eyes. “When I try to keep away from you, as a guard should, you pursue me. You sit beside me, and you want to talk.”
Taryn pulled away, her cheeks flushing. Good. He wanted her to recognize the social distance between them.
She swallowed hard and then regarded him. “Isn’t that what traveling companions do? Talk to one another?”
“I am not your companion. I am your servant.” He wanted the division made clear so she would keep away from him. For ifhe had his way, he would use that mouth for something entirely different than talking.
A startled laugh broke free from her. “Killian, not once have you behaved like a servant. You’re overbearing, dominant, and you enjoy ordering me around.” She drew her knees up beneath her skirts. “I never would have ridden that horse if you hadn’t forced me to.” The soft amusement remained on her face, and she rubbed her hands together for warmth.
“You should not be so familiar,” he warned.
Her mouth twisted. “And why is that? Should I be afraid you would behave in a dishonorable way?” She pulled back her hair. “These scars protect me. I know what men see when they look upon my face.” Though she kept her tone forthright, he knew that she was sensitive about the marks.
“What do you think I see?” He moved in closer, his arm behind her spine.
“A woman who is cursed with the Devil’s markings. One who makes men draw back with revulsion.”
With his hand, he touched her forehead, commanding her, “Close your eyes.”
She obeyed, and he drew his fingers over her eyelids. “You don’t know what men see. Not at all.” He traced the slant of her nose, down to her lips. “I see a mouth that talks entirely too much. Lips that are soft, almost yielding.” He rubbed her lower lip with his thumb and was rewarded with her sharp exhale. Her blue eyes opened, and he shook his head. “No, don’t look.”
He tilted her chin up, moving his hand down her throat. “I see a woman with silken skin and curves that entice a man. And she has no idea of how tempting she is.”
Her sapphire eyes opened then, and she covered his hand with her own. Beneath his fingers, he felt her rapid pulse and her uneven breathing.
She should have been afraid of him. But in those deep blue eyes, he saw no fear—only wonder. Her hand reached up to his face, mirroring the caress he’d given her. As her fingertips edged his rough-shaven cheeks, he went motionless, like a block of stone.
The moment she touched him, he was lost. He knew it was dishonorable to take advantage of her innocence. A good man would release her, leaving her alone.
You’re not a good man, he reminded himself.You’re a bastard.
