Sean had expected her to struggle which was why he had her arm tucked between his body and hers, and her other arm held tight to her side. What he had not expected was to be so affected by her. Alarm bells were sending waves of regret—and overwhelming desire—coursing through him. Not one of his finest moments. If she ever settled down, she’d certainly find his arousal as upsetting as her anticipated punishment. He had no plans to actually slap her bottom, he just wanted honest answers. He found a threat worked best.
“So before I land my hand on yer arse since ye’re so deserving—oof.” Her elbow poked into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. He pulled her closer in to him and raised his knees to keep her lodged there. “—how about ye try telling me the truth for once and then I can be on my way.”
“Ye whoreson! Who do ye think ye are? Let me go!” She continued her struggles.
Her tempting bottom wiggling from side to side was hard to ignore. He needed to disarm her and quickly. “What? Nae clearing of yer throat to sound like a lad?”
“Let me go.” She pulled her knees in and managed to plow into his groin. The pain excruciating. He reacted with a hard slap to her bottom. She stilled. He held his breath until the sharp pain lessened then yanked her legs out straight.
He adjusted her away from him to ease the pressure on his groin. She didn’t need to know specifically what she had managed to do. “Try that again and I’ll make ye sorry.”
“I’ll make ye sorry!” she hollered back at him.
He didn’t hide the smile. She remained motionless across his lap. Her delightful bottom at his disposal but he refrained from touching her.
“I’m not an idiot. I ken when ye’re lying to me and here I’ve done nothing but try to assist ye.”
“Assist me? Was that when ye insulted me? Told me I was girly?”
“Ye are a girl!”
“And is that what ye wanted me to tell ye?” She rolled back so she could look him in the face. “Is that why ye teased me mercilessly?”
“Nae! I wanted ye to remember to act like a boy, damn it! Ye kept slipping up! How could I take ye to the village with everyone seeing ye for what ye are? They’d have been all over ye like ticks on a dog.”
“Ye bastard!” She started kicking her legs with wild abandon. “Let me go. Let me go.”
With one arm wrapped around her narrow waist, he stood, holding her like a sack of corn. Placing her away from him, he held each arm in a firm grip against her side. She hunched forward, breathing heavy from the exertion. And all he could think about was covering her mouth with his, of tasting her lips, her skin, of running his fingers through her tangled mane. He was near exploding with desire for her.
“Stop this! I deserve to ken the truth.” Sean’s voice sounded strained and he prayed she wouldn’t realize why. “Thomasina!”
It was a beautiful name. It fit her perfectly.
Closing her mouth, Tommy looked to be getting herself under control. Her eyes on him, she shook as if overcome by his audacity. Mayhap he should have taken to paddling her as she so deserved but he feared he’d feel worse than she would. Beating a woman was not in his nature. That one spank had been an unexpected reaction to pain. Slapping her bottom was the farthest thing from what he wanted to do with it.
“Truth!” he groaned aloud. “Put me out of my misery.”
She looked surprised at his outburst then took a shaky breath. “Yea! Ye deserve the truth.”
“And do ye ken the truth?” Sean leveled his gaze. “I dunna need any more pretenses here. Not now.”
Not when his body yearned to be betwixt her legs as he pounded into her, receiving his need, answering with her own passion. She had no idea. She would have no idea. He kept his gaze fixed on her face despite the heaving breasts and the sweat trickling down her neck into places he’d like to follow with his tongue.
“Can we sit?” she asked.
He feared she planned to bolt. “I canna release ye. I dunna trust ye not to run.”
Incredulity poured out from her. “How can ye—”
“Ye’ve been lying to me since the moment I met ye. How can I suddenly trust ye?”
“Do ye want to ken or not?”
“Nae!” He’d prefer not to but his preference wasn’t of much consequence now. He’d have preferred to not have met her dressed as a lad, stealing his horse out from under him, and all but scratching at herself to make the pretense believable. He’d prefer to have met her in the village, dressed in a gown that clung to all her womanly curves, plying him with a “come hither” look that promised much, and her hair soft around her shoulders where he could rub its silkiness against his cheek instead of shoved down her shirt as if it were something to be forgotten. He licked his lips. “Yea.”
Her arms still in his grip, they settled onto the ground at the same time, facing each other.
She nodded, her breath growing steadier. “Yea. I am sorry to have had to lie to ye.”
“Ye dunna ken anything about me. How do ye ken ye had to lie to me?”
“I canna trust anyone.”
“Yea. Ye could only take my horse.”
“Oh! Not fair!”
“But the truth! And that is what we’re working on here. Are we not?”
She sighed. “Yea. The truth.”
The silence grew and he watched the emotions flit across her face. If she knew how easily he could read her... “Dunna think half-truths will work. I ken when ye’re lying.”
“Hmph! About a week ago, my father told me my betrothed would be coming to wed me that afternoon.”
“Ye were betrothed then?” A heaviness settled in his chest. She was spoken for.
“Nae! And ye canna be interrupting!”
Sean tipped his head. She was being annoying on purpose. He gripped her chin to tip it up toward him. He glanced at her lips. A strong impulse to kiss her washed over him. He glanced into her eyes instead, narrowing them for effect. “I willna be put off. I’m staying here until I get the truth from ye. All of it.”
“I was not betrothed! So,” she stressed the last word.
Sean released her chin and rolled his eyes but said nothing. His fingers fidgeted along her wrist, her pulse racing beneath his fingers.
“I asked him when this had all transpired,” she said.
He nodded encouragement, wishing she’d hurry up with her explanation. Staying this close made it difficult to think. The sudden urge to bring her wrist to his nose was overwhelming. Another trickle dripped beneath her shirt.
“Ye’ve bound yer breasts.” It sounded like an accusation. Perhaps it was. His body tensed. The knife at his side could easily slice through the binding, releasing those glorious orbs. He glanced at her chest.
“How do ye—” she said.
He held his breath and released the grip he’d taken on his dagger. When he finally looked her in the face, her eyes were wide as if in sudden clarity. All that was missing was her Ah-hah!
“Ye’re sweating a lot,” he said.
The look was gone and she nodded. “Yea. The extra material is very hot.”
He swallowed hard and pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He needed to stop speaking.
She finally continued. “He told me he was in a bit of trouble and wedding me to the man he owed money would see to both his problems.” She looked away, as if no longer able to meet his eyes. “Apparently having to find me a husband—” Her voice broke. “—was a problem to the man. I had nae idea.”
Unfeeling bastard.
“I think he speaks of his own shortcomings. Nothing to do with ye.”
She nibbled at her lip, shaking her head in a sad, defeated sort of way. “I just could not let the devil spawn marry me off like that.” Thomasina turned to him suddenly. “He waited until my brother had left before telling me. Do ye think that was a coincidence? Oh nae! My brother would have put a stop to such ideas. My father drinks and—”
Her lips parted, her eyes rounded and she had one of those oh-no-I’ve-said-too-much expressions.
Sean released her arm, his hand caressing up and down, attempting to comfort. He tried to ignore the tingling shooting up his arm. “Dunna fash yerself.”
His words reeked with desperation. He needed to stop talking.
She pierced him with her look. “Do ye understand what I’m saying?”
Sean let his hand fall away then sat back, a discreet distance from her, and took a slow, steady breath. He had to answer her. “My father drank himself into an early grave after my mother died. I was just ten.”
Her gaze softened. “My brother would never have allowed him to marry me off to pay a debt. I went to take my horse in search of Niall but Daisy was gone. My father had given her to the man as well. He said he knew I’d want to be wherever my horse was.”
Sean nodded again, a slow controlled movement.
“I was beside myself. I went to the cave my brother kept the animals in that he sto—acquired and found a few ewes penned. I cried myself to sleep and woke up to find three new lambs but nae sign of my brother or his raiding friends.”
“So he does not even know what yer father has done?”
She shook her head, her forehead lined with worry.
“And will we find him here?”
She shook her head.
So how would he get distance from her? He couldn’t continue to be near her and keep his hands off. She was far too enticing even dressed as a lad. “Where can we find yer brother?”
Her expression closed down. She’d heard the emotion in his voice. No doubt she assumed the worst.
“I’m sorry—” he said.
She looked away. “—I ken a few of the spots he goes but they were not there. Nae sign of them. That’s when I saw ye on Daisy.”
“Let me—”
“—I’m sorry for getting ye involved.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin there, still avoiding looking right at him. “All I can ask is that ye leave me to my own trouble. I’ll work it out on my own. In my own way.”
She wouldn’t let him explain how he felt. What would he say? That he lusted after her? That he’d be slaking himself on her if given the opportunity. He would not tell her that.
“Well,” Sean stood and offered his hand. She didn’t take it. “I’m willing to look after ye and find yer brother.”
“What?” She finally faced him. “Nae!”
“I’m not about to leave ye unprotected, lass.” Sean’s gut tightened. Why he stepped right into the hornet’s nest was beyond him. “’Tis no problem despite what ye may think ye ken. We will locate yer brother.”
It was indeed a problem but Sean would not abandon her. She had guts. He admired that. Her father was a whoreson but her brother sounded decent. He’d track him down and then be on his way.
“What is yer brother’s name? Niall?”
“Yea.”
“Then we’ll find Niall.”
Besides she’d only get into more trouble on her own. Dark circles were etched under her eyes. Tears had left tracks down her dirty cheeks. Her hair was a rat’s nest. If he knew women at all, this lass would be appreciating a bath right now.
“Enough talk. I have the room.”
Thoughts of her in the bed with him were a bit much and he walked on ahead of her. Torn between walking behind her so no one else noticed the shapely arse of the young lad and walking ahead to work off some… energy, Sean led the way until near the opened wooden door of the establishment. The sounds inside were raucous and spilled out into the street.
“I canna go in there! That woman. She knows.”
“Ye can sneak in the back.” Sean winked at her.
Sean went around the building and found it as he expected, empty. No one saw to the cooking fire. Eating had shifted to drinking. That and fornication.
Thomasina followed at a distance. In the dim light cast by the moon, he waved his arm to draw her forward. He pulled her close to be certain she heard him. A mistake.
The top of her head came just to his chest. She leaned in to peer through the dimly lit room, touching him. She smelled delicious despite her unwashed state. He took her elbow making to steady her but he knew it was just to feel her beneath his fingers. He could easily span her narrow waist with both hands. The urge to pull her against him for a kiss increased with her nearness.
Sean forced his mind to focus. “See the stairs to the left?”
The steps were tucked into the far corner of the building.
“Yea.”
“When they’re not looking this way, cross over to the stairs. The room is right at the top.”
“Ye’ve been here before?”
The memory of the dark-haired woman faded now. She’d been insistent and Tadhg had encouraged Sean to see to his needs so she’d all but dragged him upstairs. Fighting the woman off had been a first for him. When Sean came down, he told Tadhg he’d declined her offer and wanted to wait to be wed to Brighit before slaking himself. Tadhg laughed as if he’d proposed some absurd possibility. If he could see him now all but panting for this lass dressed like a lad, he’d be doubled over with laughter.
“Aye. I came with others and we… well I avoided… yea, I’ve been here before.”
Thomasina’s heart raced at the very idea of trying to cross the room without being seen. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. There was no other choice. Sean tried to help her and she had to trust him. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. His eyes were, again, assessing her. Perhaps trying to determine what she really looked like without a lad’s disguise.
His eyes pierced hers. Her breath hitched. The look of longing was there then quickly gone. Had she imagined it? He smiled. An innocent smile. A you’re-safe-with-me smile. So why was the intensity of his gaze making her feel lightheaded? Why was she wishing she were properly attired as a woman to see if that look of longing would return?
“Ye can wait here,” Sean said. “I’ll go in through the front and when they’re not looking, ye can go in.”
She nodded.
An owl hooted nearby. The clouds drifted in front of the moon. The woods a few feet from the building darkened behind them. Sean went around to the front. Standing back, hidden in the trees, she watched him as he ducked to come in through the door.
The owner welcomed him back but looked a bit disappointed. Sean looked huge standing in the entrance to the room. Her stomach fluttered. All the men around him were smaller, shorter, and not nearly as handsome. His long, blond hair and the darker shade of his beard gave him a savage look.
The redhead came forward, placing her hand flat against Sean’s broad chest. She tucked herself in close. Thomasina clenched her jaw. Sean took a step back, putting the wench away from him. The owner moved quickly through the crowd of men and away from them, his eyes darting about the room. He disappeared up the stairs.
The woman pushed against Sean with her body, flattening her humongous breasts against him when he tried to go past. He dipped toward her head, his mouth close to her ear, to say something to her. Pain shot through Thomasina’s jaw.
The owner came back down and looked toward the redhead who kept Sean distracted. Thomasina wondered if Sean realized what was happening. It seemed an obvious ploy. With an eye on Sean, the owner motioned behind to someone up the stairs. A tall man in a hooded cloak followed behind. He refused to be hurried. With a jutting chin and his nose in the air, he followed the nervous man. When she realized they were heading toward her, Thomasina jerked back into the trees.
“My apologies, my lord. I didn’t expect the warrior back tonight.” The owner spoke in hushed tones. “Does he upset any plans?”
“No. We’ll be meeting anon.” The hooded man said more but Thomasina didn’t catch it as they walked the length of the building toward the road.
The two men stopped just short of the front corner of the inn. Facing each other, their voices now carried to her.
“I hope you and Lady Abigail found the accommodations—”
“Enough!” The man’s commanding tone silenced the innkeeper. “Keep to the plan.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Be certain to have the irons hot for our return. We’ll see these usurpers get what they deserve.”
The hooded man pulled his cloak tight around his face and stepped into the street, heading off to the right.
A woman with long, black hair came down the stairs at the same time, stopping just within the entryway. She tilted her head back and glanced around the room. She had full, red lips and a fair complexion that complemented her dark her. She was beautiful. She scurried toward Thomasina, glanced both ways once outside, then moved along the path in the opposite direction of the men before veering into the woods. The sweet aroma of flowers drifted to Thomasina and lingered after she’d passed.
The owner came through the front door. He smoothed his hair, planted a broad smile on his face, then walked toward Sean. He directed Sean to the stairs, said something, then laughed. The redhead went off toward the men at the table. Sean went up the stairs without glancing toward Thomasina.
Her breathing sped up. She swallowed against her fear and came out of the protective trees to approach the building. The men in the room were well into their cups. She recognized the signs. Loud voices and random bursts of laughter. Her skin crawled. Certainly they would not notice a lad coming through the back door. Sean’s words came back to her about their needs and how even a lad that looked like a girl would suffice. Bile rose in her throat.
She watched the goings-on from just outside the door. Some type of contest with three men seated and the rest circling them. The redhead made her presence known by squeezing herself between the men standing around. An occasional call for more mead was the only time any of them looked up from the action. The owner waited just inside to Thomasina’s right, where the libations were kept behind the trestle table.
“Yes. Yes. I’m coming.” The owner moved toward the circle of men.
Thomasina took a deep breath and held it. She made her way toward the stairs which suddenly seemed a great distance away.
“Hey. Stop!” It was a man’s angry voice.
She froze. Laughter erupted behind her. She swallowed down the saliva flooding her mouth and turned to face the man. No one looked her way.
“You whoring Norman! What do you think? You can cheat us?”
“Don’t slander me so! I’m no Norman.”
Clearing the entrance to the stairs, she ducked inside and fell against the wall. She panted like she’d run a great race.
“Up here!” Sean stood at the top stair. An opening behind allowed light to reveal a small area where stores were kept. Sacks were stacked four high beside him.
She climbed the steps two at a time and collapsed on the floor in the tiny room.
He reached down to take her elbow and help her up. “Easy, lass. Ye’ve made it. Ye’re safe.”
She couldn’t speak. Who did she think she was going off on her own to get her brother? She didn’t have courage. She was a milksop! Tears rimmed her eyes and the room blurred.
His blue eyes widened with concern. “Easy now. Ye’re shaking!”
“I’m sorry. I’m—”
Loud voices carried up the stairs as if someone had moved much closer. Sean shifted to quickly close the rough-hewn door. He leaned his forehead against it and listened. Satisfied, he turned toward her with a smile.
“Hell of a gathering going on down there.” His smile dropped. He rubbed the back of his neck.
The room was barely big enough for a normal sized man to stand in. Sean hunched forward as he moved to the far side where the thatched ceiling pitched even lower. He turned toward her, the water skin she recognized from last night in his hand.
Thomasina held up her hand to ward him off when he came toward her. The stuff tasted like horse piss. “Nae! I dunna want any.”
He pressed her hand down, a slight smile on his lips. “Just a bit. Ye’re quaking like a leaf.”
Thomasina covered her mouth. “I nearly threw up downstairs.”
Sean moved closer, rubbing her back with small circles. The soothing motion abruptly shifted to her shoulders. “This is different. It goes down easy.”
Shaking gripped her and she couldn’t stop it. Her teeth chattered. She needed something so she accepted the heavy skin. She hoped her expression showed her disbelief at being able to keep it down.
Holding the skin with two hands, she tipped it toward her mouth and dribbled a few drops on her waiting tongue. Sean’s eyes were dark as he watched her, his expression intent. Apparently it was very important that she accept this. It wasn’t as bad as the other drink. She put the opening to her mouth, closed her eyes, and squeezed some of the liquid into her mouth. It felt warm—very warm—but didn’t burn like the other. She swallowed then drank some more. She imagined the liquid forming a little relaxing puddle in her stomach. She took a deep, slow breath then blew it out. Her shaking eased. She’d made it.
When she opened her eyes, Sean’s gaze had dropped to her hips. The fluttering began again. His eyes made a slow sweep of her from her trews up to her face. His lips parted.
She offered a small smile, no longer certain how to react. “Are ye afeared I’ll drink all of yer precious mead?”
“Yea.” His gaze held hers. “Something like that.”
“This is much better than the other.” She closed her eyes, relieved to shut out the confusing messages, and took another sip.
His fingers caressing her cheek startled her. She opened her eyes to find him standing very close.
“I’m glad ’tis to yer liking.” His voice was low. He wrapped one hand around her, flattening ever so gently against the small of her back. He moved his face in closer. “Let me taste it.”
Her breath caught. Her eyes closed. The touch of his lips sent a jolt right to her core. His mouth moved over hers. Searching. Insistent. A thoroughly enjoyable feeling. She leaned in closer. The slightest pressure and her lips parted, allowing the invasion of his warm, probing tongue. He groaned against her. She silently agreed.
She moved her tongue with his and he pulled her close against his length. His strong arms wrapped around her. Safe. Arousing. Her body relaxed against him. He groaned a second time, just lifting his lips.
“Mo mhíle stór,” Sean spoke on a breath then his lips were on hers again.
His kisses grew more demanding. Heat swirled low in her stomach. He wanted something. She wanted him to have it. Whatever it was. His hand drifted lower down her back to cup her bottom, pulling her up against him and an unyielding stiffness. The swirling shifted lower. Heat poured off him and she basked in it. She moaned her pleasure. She wanted more. His arms fell away and he stepped back in one motion as if she’d burned him.
Disappointment washed over her like a wave and she stumbled to gain her footing. Her labored breathing the only sound. The sudden loss of his body was acute.
Her chest rose with each breath. “What is amiss?”
Sean pushed stray hairs away from his face with both hands. His eyes wide with incredulity. “Ye! What are ye doing? Dunna let a man touch ye like that!”
“I want ye to touch me like that.”
Sean made a strangled sound in his throat and turned away. His shoulders rose and fell and he paced the small area. He finally stopped several feet away. “Nae. Ye dunna want me to.”
“I like the way ye touch me.”
“And dunna say that either.”
A rock seemed to drop into the pit of her stomach. Her father had been right. Whatever this was that was happening had something to do with her being a problem to wed. Where there had been warmth and longing, she now felt loss and pain.
She crossed the few steps to the door and stopped. It was not safe for her to go back down there but she had trouble remembering why. It must be the drink but she knew going downstairs was worse than staying here. She faced Sean then slid down the door to sit in front of it.
“I’ll sleep here.”
Sean’s expression softened. “Nae. NAE! Ye’ll not. Ye’ll sleep here.” He indicated the pallet on the raised platform beside him. “I’ll sleep on the floor. Ye sleep here and there will be nae more discussion.”
Thomasina licked her lips and looked about for the skin. She didn’t remember him taking it out of her hands. She did remember the way his hands felt grasping her bottom, pulling her against him. The heat still there between her legs. She searched him to see if she could discern the hardness. She could.
Sean fisted the skin at his side. As if reading her mind, he took a long draw then closed it tight. His breathing still shallow. She stood and walked to the pallet. It was filthy and covered with horse hair and fleas.
Glancing toward Sean whose gaze remained on her, she offered a sly smile. “Wonder what’s happened here.”
“And do ye ken, my worldly lass?”
“Nae. I dunna.” She pointed to his groin. “I think it has to do with the condition ye’re experiencing with yer prick.”
“And ye’d be right.”
“I saw a man and a woman sneak down these stairs when the redhead was… enticing ye.”
“I wasna enticed.”
“Are ye certain? Ye looked quite enticed earlier.”
To be honest, he looked like he would have enjoyed jumping on her right then and there and… sticking her with that prick. Pain spread through her chest.
She’d heard a little of what happened between a man and a woman but not much. She was too young when her mother had died and there was no one else to tell her. Her father said little about anything. He preferred the drink to her company.
“Ye can go to her if ye want.” A sob rose in her throat. She swallowed it down. “I can stay here without ye.”
When he’d held her close to his body there had been a promise of something wonderful.
“Get to sleep,” Sean said. He turned away from her and removed his sword, placing it on the little bench in the corner. He pulled his leine over his head.
She nearly gasped at the wide expanse of his back. The muscles rippled with the movement as he placed the shirt on the bench as well. The heat intensified between her legs. A longing to touch him made her palms itch. She gripped her hands together and exhaled. She crawled onto the bed and gave him her back.
He had stopped whatever was about to happen. She didn’t understand why but watching him was not helping her settle down. Was there something about her that was an aversion to men? Mayhap her father was right. Mayhap she should return and let him marry her off. That man seemed interested. At least then her father’s debt would be paid and she’d be doing something beneficial with herself.