The fire had burned to embers, leaving the room bathed in a rosy glow. Pale moonlight filtered through the balcony window, touching the figures in the bed with a luminous light.
The silence of the room surrounded them. It was as if the night creatures had conspired to still their voices. There was no sound except the soft whisper of their breathing. And the wild thundering of their heartbeats.
“Are you afraid, love?” With his finger Morgan traced the curve of her brow, the slope of her cheek, the outline of her lips.
Love. His endearment filled her with sudden yearning. “Aye. I am terrified.”
He touched his lips to hers and murmured, “There is no reason to be. I promise I will not hurt you. I will never hurt you, Brenna.”
“That is not what I fear.” She drew back. “I am afraid I will not please you.”
With his hand at her back he drew her firmly against the length of him. “You already please me, Brenna.” Brenna. Brenna. Her name sang like a litany in his mind. Never would he grow weary of saying her name. “You are the loveliest creature I have ever known. All the beauty, all the goodness of this world, are in your eyes.”
She gave him a timid smile.
He sensed her uneasiness. With a gentle smile he said, “Trust me. It is true we are about to go to a new place. And the unknown is always frightening. But we go there together, love.”
He buried his lips in the hair at her temple and felt the wild beating of her pulse. Forcing himself to go slowly, he moved his lips along her cheek to the tip of her nose. “Such a haughty little turned-up nose,” he murmured. She chuckled and he felt her relax in his arms.
“You do not like my nose?”
“It is a fine nose. And your lips.” He nuzzled the corner of her mouth until she sighed with impatience and turned her head until his lips were covering hers. “Such perfect lips.” His words mingled with her breath and were swallowed up in the kiss. He lingered over her lips, loving the way they felt beneath his. Soft. Seductive. Inviting.
His hands moved along the warm, naked flesh of her back, igniting little fires wherever they touched.
“You are so small, Brenna. So delicate.” He lifted himself on one elbow to allow his gaze to study her. Her skin was washed by moonlight. With a kind of reverence he trailed his hand along the soft curve of her hip to her narrow waist, then upward to the swell of her breast. “So beautiful.”
She closed her eyes and he pressed his lips to her closed lids. As he explored her face with his lips, she relaxed, allowing herself to drift on a hazy cloud of contentment.
His lips traced her eyebrow, her cheek, her ear. With his tongue he traced the outline of her lips, then lingered, savoring all her sweetness.
The kiss was a promise of more. So much more.
He lifted her hand to his lips, then pressed a kiss to her palm and closed her hand around it. She trembled as he kissed her wrist, her elbow, her shoulder. She laughed softly as he nuzzled her neck.
Before she realized what he was doing, he bent his head. With the merest brush of his lips he pressed a kiss to her hipbone. She flinched and tried to draw away, but he held her firmly while his lips trailed the flare of her hips to her waist. She lay steeped in pleasure as he ran kisses across the soft flesh of her stomach, then upward across her rib cage.
Never had she dreamed that a man’s lips could bring such pleasure.
He heard her quick intake of breath as his lips encountered the swell of her breast. As his mouth found her erect nipple, he heard her moan.
She felt the jolt, then the slow flame begin to build deep within her until she felt herself burning with need. Wild, pulsing need that drove her to clutch at the bed linens and arch herself tensely.
As he brought his lips from one breast to the other she sobbed and clutched his head, dragging his lips to hers. With a moan he dragged her against him and covered her lips in a hot, hungry kiss. She clung to him, loving the strength she could feel in him. Yet, despite his strength, she could sense the supreme effort he made to hold his needs at bay. He was exerting careful control, she realized, in order to give her the time she needed.
She was afraid to touch him. And yet the urge to run her hands over his naked torso was too tempting to ignore. She reached a tentative finger to his chest, then drew back, embarrassed by her boldness.
“Touch me again, Brenna.”
At his urging she touched a hand to his chest and rubbed her open palm across the mat of hair. A bubble of laughter escaped her lips. “It tickles.”
He smiled up at her. She was such a wonder. Such a delight.
Her fingertips brushed his nipples and she felt them harden. Instantly she drew her hand away, but he reached out and pulled it to him. “Nay. Do not stop, little one.”
She ran a hand along his shoulder and thrilled to the ripple of muscle beneath her palm. Suddenly she encountered the raised scar made by her dirk when she had fought him in the Highlands. The laughter faded from her eyes. “I cannot bear that I inflicted this pain on you.”
“It no longer hurts, Brenna.”
“But it was made by my hand.” Without thinking she brought her lips to the spot.
Instantly the heat flared, until he was engulfed by fire. He gave a moan low in his throat.
His reaction to her touch gave her new courage. Growing bolder she brought her hands to the flat planes of his stomach and felt him flinch.
Could it be that her mere touch had the power to weaken this mighty soldier? “Afraid, my lord?” Laughter warmed her tone.
“Nay, witch.” His dark eyes were full upon her, daring her. “Afraid only that you will stop.”
Accepting his challenge she moved her hand lower still, until her hand encountered the waistband of his breeches. When her fingers fumbled with the fasteners, he helped her, until this last barrier between them was discarded.
She studied him in the glow of moonlight and found herself marveling at the beauty of his body. How perfectly the angles and planes of his muscled body complemented the softness of hers.
“Touch me, Brenna. Touch me before the madness overtakes me.”
She felt drunk with her newly discovered power. Moving her hand lower, she heard his moan of pleasure, saw his eyes narrow fractionally. Then, with his hand beneath her chin, he lifted her face to his and covered her mouth in a kiss so hungry, so impatient, she felt as if she were being devoured. When at last he came up for air she clutched blindly at his waist and brought her lips to his throat. The fire spread, heating their bodies, searing their blood.
When his lips lingered at her throat she arched, giving him free access, her head back, her eyes half closed in pleasure. But when they moved lower, to close around her breast, his name came out in a broken sob.
“Morgan. Please.”
He nibbled and suckled until she writhed beneath him.
His lips, his fingertips moved over her, seeking out all the hidden pleasures until her body hummed with need. His fingers found her, moist and ready.
“Tell me, love. Tell me you want me.”
She felt herself beginning to climb, high, then higher still, until she reached the first peak. But he gave her no time to pause before he took her even higher.
Needs pulsed and shuddered within her until she thought she would explode. “I do want you. Oh, Morgan, I love you.”
Love. He savored the word as it washed over him. She loved him. It was more than he had ever hoped for. That this woman could love him, as he loved her. If he never had another blessing in his lifetime, this one would be enough.
Need ripped through him, shattering the last thread of his control. If he did not take her now he would go mad with the need for her.
Mad. Aye, it was madness that had driven him from the first moment he saw her. And there was no cure for it. Except this woman.
As he levered himself above her he looked down into her eyes and could read all the love, all the desire, in their blue-violet depths.
As he gently lowered himself into her and began to move, he was amazed to find that her strength, her needs, matched his. She moved with him, taking him higher, then higher still, until there was no longer any time for gentleness.
The fragrance of roses clung to her hair and skin. He breathed it in, filling his lungs. He was reminded of the field of heather, when he had wanted her with this same kind of desperation. From this moment on, whenever he smelled roses, he would think of her. And want her with this same terrible hunger.
He murmured words and phrases of love, or thought he did, as together they passed through a sky filled with shooting stars until they soared beyond the moon and felt themselves shattering into a million glittering fragments.
~ ~ ~
They lay, still locked in a fierce embrace, neither of them willing to break the fragile bond that held them.
Brenna’s face was covered with a fine sheen of moisture. Morgan pressed his lips to her forehead. His breathing was shallow.
He felt the tremors that rocked her and touched a finger to the corner of her eye. “Tears?” Immediately he started to draw away. “I have hurt you.”
“Nay.” She caught him and held him to her. “It is foolish, I know. But I feel like weeping.”
“I know, love.” He touched his lips to her tears and tasted the salt.
“Oh, Morgan.” She clung to him and wept openly, no longer trying to hide the sobs that were wrenched from her. “I know I cannot make up for what happened to you in the past. But if I could, I would erase all the pain from your poor heart.”
He went very still, absorbing the shock as her words washed over him. How generous she was. What a wonderful gift he had been given.
Rolling to one side he drew her into the circle of his arms and pressed his lips to her temple. With his thumbs he wiped away her tears. “Do not weep for me, Brenna. Whatever happened before has just been erased for all time.”
“But you said you never wanted to marry again. And now you have spoken for me.”
He placed a finger over her lips to silence her. “Hush, love. Forget the things I said earlier. I said them to hide the truth from my heart.”
She glanced at him, her eyes wide. “What do you mean?”
“Just this.” He lifted a strand of her hair and watched through narrowed eyes as it sifted through his fingers. “I love you, Brenna. I think I have loved you from the moment of our first meeting.”
She knelt beside him. Her dark hair swirled around her breasts. “You love me? Truly love me?”
“Aye.” On his lips was a smile of pure pleasure.
“You are not saying this to soothe me because of what we have just shared?”
His smile grew. Laughter rumbled from deep in his chest. “I love you, my lady. With all my heart and soul.”
“And I love you, Morgan.” She spoke the words with a hushed reverence. She bent low until her hair spread across his chest like a veil. “Tell me, my lord. When did you first realize you loved me?”
“Ah.” He stifled the laughter that threatened. “Why must a woman know such things?”
“It is our vanity.” She kissed him hard, quick. “Now tell me.”
He propped one hand beneath his head, while his other arm cradled her against his chest. She felt so good there. So right.
“I did not admit it to myself until you had retired for the night. And I realized what I had just done to you.” His fingers icily played with her hair. He felt the desire begin anew. God in heaven. How was it possible that he wanted her again so soon? “I feared that I had just dashed any hope of winning your heart.”
“So, my lord.” She ran a finger across his chest. Feeling his quivering response to her simple touch, she grew bolder. “What were you going to do about this sudden knowledge of your love for me?”
He recognized the gleam in her eye. “Are you teasing me, little one?”
“Nay, my lord. I simply wish to know if you would have ever told me of your love.”
His tone grew serious. “I knew I had already caused you enough pain, Brenna. I took you from your home, from all you love, and thrust you among the vultures at court. ’Twas my intention to comply with the queen’s wishes and wed you, then return you to your people, where you could live in peace.”
She pressed her hands against his chest and stared into his eyes. “Are you saying that you love me so much you would live without me?”
“I love you so much I would set you free.”
She surprised him by brushing her lips lightly over his. The heat of desire rose swiftly.
“Then we would never have shared this wondrous act, my lord.”
“Aye.”
Her hands moved lower, causing his stomach muscles to jump.
“Now what are you up to, little one?”
Her eyes danced with a mischievous light. “It is my intention to store up as many wondrous acts as possible, my lord. In case you decide to send me away soon.”
He threw back his head and roared with laughter. But a moment later, as her hand moved even lower, the laughter died on his lips. With a moan of pleasure he pulled her down on top of him and covered her mouth in a searing kiss.
She sighed and wriggled and moved over him until he felt himself once again slipping over the edge of sanity. Never, never had he known a woman like this one. Some time soon, when he had his wits about him, he would sort out all the changes she had wrought in his life. But not now. Right now he was beyond thought.
With sighs and kisses and little moans of pleasure, they lost themselves in that wonderful place reserved only for lovers.
~ ~ ~
The steady drumming of rain on the roof of the portico roused him. Morgan awoke slowly. There was a heaviness on his arm, making it impossible to lift it. He opened his eyes to study the beautiful creature who lay facing him. His leg was thrown carelessly across her, pinning her to the length of him. Her eyes were closed, her breathing slow and even.
What a delightful surprise she was. All night they had loved, slept, then awakened each other to love again.
He studied the wide, unlined brow, the lips, so right for kissing. How had he ever thought her cool and haughty? His little ice maiden. She was so generous, so open in her loving. No woman had ever made him ache with such desire. He would never have enough of her. Even a lifetime together would not be enough. His spirit would follow hers even into the hereafter.
He saw the way her lids flickered. Any moment now she would awaken. He was suddenly plagued with a terrible thought. What if, in the cold light of morning, she regretted their night of passion? What if she had given in to her loneliness in a moment of weakness? Or worse, what if she had confused gratitude with love? As her lids opened, he forgot to breathe. His heart missed a beat. Though he had fought hundreds of enemies on the field of battle, this little woman had him terrified.
Brenna lay a moment, feeling the weight of Morgan’s leg on her. His breath was warm against her cheek. Even with her eyes closed she knew this man who lay beside her. She knew the touch of him. He had left his imprint on her body. And on her heart. The dark, mysterious taste of him still lingered on her tongue.
She opened her eyes to find him watching her intently. His brow was wrinkled with concern.
“Good morrow,” she whispered, reaching a hand to his cheek. Before he could respond she pulled his face close and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Are you having unhappy thoughts, my lord?”
He felt his breath come out in a slow sigh of relief. She had not blushed nor tried to hide herself. Instead she’d greeted him as if they had always awakened together after a night of loving.
“I was afraid you would awake with regrets, my love.”
“I do have one regret.”
His heart stopped beating.
Seeing the look on his face she leaned close, pressing her body to his. “I regret that you have a house filled with guests who will expect to be entertained from sunrise to sunset.”
His mouth dropped open. Then he roared with laughter. She joined him, a gay, lilting sound that washed away the last of his fears.
“I suppose we shall have to dress and greet our guests.” She brushed her lips across his shoulder and began to slip out of bed.
He felt the familiar tingle at her touch and lay very still, allowing the fire to build. As she brushed past him he caught her, forcing her down. His hands tangled in her hair, drawing her face toward his.
“The queen will sleep for at least another hour.” He nibbled the corner of her mouth until she gave a little moan and clutched at his waist.
“And how is it that you can be so certain?”
“At this moment, my love, I am certain of but one thing.” He rolled over, pulling her beneath him. Already the fire in his loins was raging out of control. “If the queen awakes early, she shall have to find her own entertainment. I have already found mine. Until we can return to this bed tonight, this day promises to be the longest one of my life,” he murmured against her lips.
Her laughter died in her throat as he began to work the magic that would tumble them both into a world apart. A world of whispered sighs and endless delights.