Taming Her Irish Warrior Page 17

  She studied him for a moment, as if making a decision. At last, she removed her bliaud, wearing only her shift. She lay down upon the pallet, while he kept his gaze on the fire, trying not to look at her tightly moulded form.

  ‘Aren’t you going to sleep beside me?’ Honora asked. ‘I know you must be tired from your journey.’

  He was, but he didn’t trust himself to be so close and not touch her. ‘I’ll keep watch over you.’

  Above them, the night sky glimmered with stars. The moon shed a gleaming light over the clearing, spilling over her skin like silver. Honora turned to her side, her dark hair resting upon one shoulder.

  ‘Ewan,’ she whispered. He glanced back at her, then wished he hadn’t. The linen shift did little to hide her body, revealing the plump curve of her breasts, the swell of her hips. ‘I’m afraid.’

  ‘Don’t be. John and his men won’t find us. By the morning, we’ll be gone.’

  Honora shook her head slowly. ‘I wasn’t speaking of John.’ She sat up again, her hands resting in her lap. ‘I’m afraid I wouldn’t please you if we became…more than friends.’

  The vulnerability on her face, the way she had bared her confession before him, made him choose his words carefully. ‘There’s nothing you could do that wouldn’t please me.’

  ‘That night in the garden,’ she said. ‘I’d never felt anything like that before.’

  He didn’t move, his control straining taut. If she laid a single finger upon him, he knew he would snap.

  Honora leaned forwards, resting her weight on her hands. ‘I trust you. But I don’t know what to do. Will you show me?’

  Honora didn’t know what had come over her, to be so bold. But right now, she’d lost everything. Her home, her family…there was nothing left, save Ewan.

  When she was in his arms, he made her forget everything. His kiss, the way he touched her…it made her feel restless. Tonight, she wanted the comfort of his embrace. Even if it meant reliving the past.

  ‘You don’t know what you’re asking me,’ he said. His deep voice sounded uneasy, as though she’d crossed a boundary.

  ‘You taught me to use a sword. Surely you can teach me this.’ She wanted to experience the secret thrill he had conjured once before, to know what it meant to be desired.

  Ewan expelled a curse and stood, walking towards her. His eyes grew heated, and when he removed his tunic, his bare chest appeared like smooth marble. ‘You’re still afraid, aren’t you?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Don’t be. Any time you say the word, I’ll stop.’

  Upon her back, she felt his hands caressing her. His mouth dipped down to brush against her nape, and a thousand shivers replaced it. He moved her hair away, kissing her ear, then her cheek.

  ‘I don’t want you to stop.’ She needed to lose herself in his touch, forgetting everything that had happened. Behind her, she heard a soft noise as he removed the rest of his clothing.

  Ewan lay down behind her, drawing her backside against him. She gasped with shock at the feel of his hard length against her bottom. His palms slid beneath her shift, raising up the hem and baring her flesh. She shuddered, closing her eyes as he slid his thick erection between her thighs.

  Her body responded with wetness, and he used his shaft to rub and tease her.

  ‘You’ve always tormented me, Honora. Both when you were a girl…and now, as a woman.’

  Goose flesh prickled across her skin. He pulled the linen shift tightly against her breasts, and her nipples speared with arousal. He ran a single knuckle over the fabric, caressing the tips. ‘I want to taste you.’

  She tried to remove the shift, but he trapped her, his body weight pinning her against the pallet. ‘Leave it on for now.’

  With a wicked smile, he lowered his mouth to the fabric and licked her nipple through the linen. Honora arched her hips against him, her skin burning hot. He nipped at her breasts with his teeth, while he used the tip of his manhood to torment her swollen flesh. ‘Do you feel it?’

  Her breath hitched. ‘Yes.’ The same wildness skimmed through her body, and as she grew closer and closer, he slowed the pace.

  ‘Reach for it, Honora. Let me take you there.’

  She cried out, both needing the release and fearing what would happen afterwards. Ewan kissed her, plundering her mouth as he caressed her cleft.

  There. His hand rubbed her until she soared, shaking violently as the glorious sensations ripped through her.

  Without thinking, she brought her hand to his shaft, wrapping her fingers around the length. As another wave of pleasure shuddered through her, she squeezed him, pulling against him. He held on to her hand, and she moved faster. Over the smooth head, down the length of him, until he let out a groan, spilling his wet seed upon her stomach. He moved against her, stroking her with his arousal a few more times, until he rested his weight upon hers.

  ‘You surprised me,’ he said huskily.

  He looked embarrassed by what he’d done, and Honora pulled his mouth down to hers for a soft kiss. ‘Was it wrong? I wanted to please you.’

  ‘There is no doubt you pleased me,’ he said. ‘Perhaps too much.’ He extricated himself from their embrace, before he went to retrieve her fallen veil. A few moments later, he returned with the linen, which he’d dipped in the river. He cleaned her body, and Honora shivered at the cool water. A few times, he ran the cloth over her breasts, arousing her unintentionally.

  Or perhaps, with full intent.

  She allowed him to dry her off, wrapping both of them inside his cloak. Ewan held her with her head against his chest. She relaxed against him, soothed by the warmth of his body next to hers.

  As sleep drew closer, Honora tried not to think about the future that lay ahead. For she knew, as Ewan did, that there could never be a marriage between them. There was no future for a landless Irishman and a banished widow.

  All they had were these stolen moments. And one day soon, those, too, would be gone.

  When Honora awoke, she smelled fish cooking. Ewan was seated beside the fire, a fresh trout spitted over the flames. He was fully dressed, and his gaze warmed when he saw her bare skin peeping from beneath the cloak.

  She tried not to be self-conscious, though she remembered everything they’d done last night. Perhaps, tonight, he would finish what they’d begun. Her skin prickled to imagine it, though she was uneasy about the joining.

  She rubbed her arms in the morning chill. Without Ewan’s body heat to warm her, she’d become cold. She’d never been one to leap out of bed in the mornings. More often, she’d snatch the coverlet and roll over, trying to steal another hour of sleep.

  ‘Is that the only fish you managed to catch? It’s rather small, isn’t it?’ she teased. Reaching for her shift and bliaud, she dressed, trying not to feel embarrassed about wearing only her shift.

  ‘There is nothing small about my fish.’ Ewan’s voice was almost a growl, as if she’d threatened his manhood with the description. ‘It’s big enough for both of us.’

  Catching her about the waist, he added, ‘I’ll share, if you kiss me.’

  She tilted her chin up to meet his mouth, and his tongue slid inside, tangling with hers. Oh, Jesu. He knew just how to unravel her will-power, stripping away her defences.

  Unfamiliar sensations poured through her, a fierce need she’d never known with any man, save him. Her body craved his bare skin against her own, his talented hands touching every inch of her.

  But they still had a long journey ahead. She pulled back, her hands shaking. ‘The food, Ewan,’ she reminded him.

  His green eyes were dark with desire, but he released her. He removed the fish from the spit and brought it over to a large rock to divide it. With his dagger in one hand, he cut off a piece for her. Honora took her piece and struggled to pull it apart.

  ‘What happened to your dagger?’ he asked, eyeing the broken pieces.

  ‘My father broke it,’ Honora admitted. She went on to tell him that M
arie St Leger had hidden a ruby within the weapon, and that John had stolen it back.

  ‘He thinks it’s part of a larger treasure,’ she said. ‘But I’ve only seen the ruby.’

  ‘That’s why he attacked you that night.’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t know Marie had given it to me. Were it not for my father breaking the weapon, I’d never have found it.’ Honora rubbed her eyes, sighing heavily. ‘John has the ruby now. But I don’t know if he’ll leave me in peace.’

  ‘If he thinks there is more, I doubt it.’ Ewan studied the grip. The pommel had broken off, and he touched the hollowed space with a single finger. ‘Do you think a larger treasure exists?’

  ‘John thought so.’

  He lifted the dagger grip to peer inside. Inside the hollow where the blade tang was meant to rest, he slid his smallest finger. A moment later, he withdrew a tightly folded piece of vellum, only larger than his thumbnail. ‘Honora, have you seen this?’

  She hadn’t. ‘What is it?’

  Ewan opened it and she saw strange black markings etched along the bottom, in a foreign design. Above them was a spiral emblem and the figure of a bird.

  ‘What is it?’ Honora asked.

  ‘I’ve seen similar carvings on the chest in the chapel. But I’ve never seen a bird like that.’ Ewan peered closer at the unusual drawing. ‘It isn’t one bird, Honora. It’s six.’

  The strange spirals and birds meant nothing to her. Nor did the black markings.

  ‘Should we look for it?’ Honora wondered aloud. ‘If we ever learn what the markings mean.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Ewan drew closer to her, spanning her waist with his hands. With his mouth, he nuzzled her neck. ‘But right now, I think you should finish eating.’

  He reached down and fed her from his fingertips. The flaky trout was delicious, but his warm tongue only caused more desire to spark within her.

  They had nearly finished when Ewan froze suddenly, his gaze focused in the distance. Honora shielded her eyes and immediately spied the threat.

  A silvery ribbon flashed in the morning sun, the glint of chainmail armour. Whether it was John’s men or her father’s, it didn’t matter. Both were dangerous.

  ‘How many?’ she asked, her hand reaching towards the grip of her dagger, out of habit. She’d forgotten it was broken.

  ‘A dozen, perhaps.’

  ‘Do you want to fight them?’ she asked. Likely, they could defend themselves well enough, if Ewan had a weapon she could use.

  ‘There are only two of us, Honora. I’ve no intention of getting us both killed.’ Gathering up the pallet and his belongings, he threw the sack of supplies over her horse. ‘Get on.’

  She kicked dirt at the fire to smother it, then let Ewan lift her up. He swung behind her, urging the horse west. With the sun and their enemy at their backs, he went as fast as he dared. The mare struggled with the extra weight, but managed to break into a slow gallop.

  ‘At least we have a horse,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘But it will take hours to reach the coastline. With luck, we’ll find the caves and can hide from them.’

  She sensed a tight fear underscoring his plans. ‘What if they catch up to us?’

  ‘We’ll make a decision if it comes. In the meantime, we ride.’

  She held on tightly to the reins, her heart racing in rhythm to the horse’s hooves. The morning shifted into afternoon, and the soldiers were still visible, drawing closer. The mare was growing tired, and Ewan stopped to let the animal drink. He dismounted and helped Honora down.

  ‘The horse needs to rest,’ Honora interjected. ‘If we push her too hard, she won’t be any use.’

  ‘They’re gaining on us, Honora.’

  ‘I know it.’ Her spirits dragged even lower, but when he lifted her back on the animal, she protested. ‘It’s too soon. The mare needs more time to recover.’

  ‘We don’t have time. But we won’t force her to take both of us.’ Gripping the reins in one hand, he brought the horse into a light trot as he ran beside them.

  Honora wanted to argue with him, but Ewan’s face was set with an unbreakable stubbornness. He’d tire, soon enough, and she would take her turn running beside the horse. It seemed foolish, but they did appear to be maintaining their distance from the enemy soldiers.

  When minutes turned into nearly half an hour, she couldn’t stand it any more. Ewan’s face was red, sweat dampening his tunic, but he showed no signs of slowing down. His endurance astounded her. But if he didn’t rest soon, he’d collapse.

  She jerked the mare to a stop, and Ewan stumbled forwards. ‘It’s your turn to ride. I’ll run.’

  ‘No. We have to keep moving.’

  ‘And you’re going to kill yourself if you keep on like this. Ride the damned horse and rest.’ She couldn’t believe he was forcing himself to such lengths. Dismounting, she took the reins from him.

  Instead of mounting, he ran beside her. What was he doing? ‘Ewan, don’t do this.’

  ‘I’m not weak, Honora. I’ll manage.’

  Is that what he thought? That she believed him less of a man if he rested?

  ‘I never said you were weak. But you’re no good to me if they catch us and you cannot fight.’ She stopped running and pulled the mare to a stop once more. Resting her palms on each side of his face, she tried to make him understand. ‘I can’t run for as long as you. But I can’t fight them alone, if that’s what happens.’

  His answer was to lift her back on the horse. Rigid with exhaustion and determination, he kept on running. The motion of the horse chafed against her thighs, and when at last they reached the coastline, she said a prayer of thanks that they were closer than she’d thought.

  Sweet heaven, Ewan’s entire body looked as though it had been tortured. His tunic was damp, his shoulders heaving.

  ‘We’re leaving the horse behind,’ Honora ordered. ‘She would only lead the men to us. The soldiers will claim and care for her.’ With a glance at the grey waters of the sea, she added, ‘And I pray you’re right about those caves.’

  ‘I am. I saw them on our journey here.’

  She gripped his hand and pulled off the pack of supplies, releasing the horse towards the soldiers. She hated the thought of leaving her mare, but there was no alternative. Their saving grace was that the light had faded, and their pursuers would have to stop for the night.

  ‘How are we going to reach Erin?’ she asked as they made their way down the hillside to the rocky coast.

  He shook his head. ‘Bevan said he would send one of my brothers back with the ship. Or else I was going to ask a fisherman for help.’

  Once they reached the beach, Ewan led her into the shallow water. He took their supplies from her, and she was grateful to be relieved of the burden. The weight of her chainmail armour was more than she could manage.

  ‘Why are we walking in the sea?’ she asked.

  ‘No tracks. The tide will remove all traces of us.’

  The cold water stung her feet, and she bit her lip to keep moving. How far they traversed, she couldn’t know. The sky was dark purple, the sun rimming the horizon in a blade of gold.

  At last, he stopped. ‘Look there.’

  Praise be, she saw the cave. She was so tired, she was beyond caring if it was a suitable shelter. If it were large enough, they might be able to build a fire. Her skin was so cold, her teeth chattered.

  They stepped across the rocks, still keeping their feet from the sand. Once they reached the entrance, Ewan pressed his back against the stone wall, listening. The pungent sea air filled the interior, and she wrinkled her nose.

  ‘Can we build a fire?’ she whispered.

  He set down the pack of supplies. ‘I think so. The cave is deep enough that we can keep the light hidden. And it’s too dark for them to see the smoke. Stay here while I gather some driftwood.’

  ‘Be careful.’ She stopped him and brought his mouth to hers in a light kiss. He deepened it, filling his hands with her hair.

 
‘I won’t let anything happen to you, Honora.’

  ‘I know it.’ But even as he left her, the cold darkness seemed to fall over her like a forbidding cloak. She prayed to God that somehow they would find an escape.

  Ewan dropped a load of wood inside the cave, reaching into the pack of supplies for flint. It took a while to get the fire started, but eventually the small space grew warmer. Faint cracks in the ceiling of the high cave kept the smoke from getting too thick.

  Honora sat as close to the fire as she dared, her feet bare, her wet shoes discarded. She looked soft, vulnerable. Nothing like the fighter he knew she was.

  Though his feet burned from the distance he’d run, he’d not let her see the exhaustion. He wanted to take care of her, to ensure her safety. Never would he let anyone harm her, especially not John.

  He saw her guarding her wrist, flexing it gently. ‘How is your wrist?’

  ‘It’s still bruised. But it isn’t broken or sprained, thanks be.’ She moved it to show him, and added, ‘I can fight if I have to.’

  There would be no need for her to risk it, not if they remained hidden. And with darkness to shield them, John’s men would not venture towards the rocks.

  ‘You won’t have to fight,’ he promised.

  Honora opened the supplies and pulled out the flask of wine and a half-stale loaf of bread. He sat beside her, waiting for her to eat. But she didn’t. Instead, she set the food beside her on a stone and opened her arms to him. ‘Come here.’

  He didn’t understand what she wanted. But given a choice between food and Honora, there was no question which he preferred more. When he tried to hold her, she shifted so that her back was to the wall of the cave. She made him lean back in her arms, his back resting against her soft breasts while her thighs were spread on either side of him.

  ‘You’re weary,’ she said. ‘And it’s my turn to take care of you.’ She broke off a piece of the bread and fed it to him. Ewan barely tasted the meagre food, though he was famished. They hadn’t eaten since that morn, and under normal circumstances, he’d dive at the food.

  But it was far more distracting to see her shapely legs emerging from the hem of her gown. He accepted another bite of bread, raising the edge of the bliaud a little higher with his palm.