Killian pulled his hand back and removed her glove, placing it in the basket beside the cat before taking Taryn’s palm in his. Her skin was cold, and he warmed it with his own hand. Somehow the contact did help her to settle her nerves, and she loosened her hold.
“Steady yourself, Taryn.” He stroked her hand with his thumb, and she let out a slow breath. Her shoulders lowered, and he continued to soothe her nerves.
“I know I should not be afraid.” Her voice was wooden, holding no faith in herself.
“It takes time to let go of fear,” he said. “And I will be here.” He laced his fingers with hers, and she did seem more at ease. For a while, he rode alongside her. They remained in the midst of the MacEgan soldiers, with men leading the way and others behind them.
Though she didn’t speak to him, he wondered if she was embarrassed by what had happened between them. All night, he had been haunted by the visions of her soft skin and the way she’d sighed when he’d touched her. He wanted her in a way he’d never expected. And the more he kissed Taryn, the more he craved her.
Killian fixed his gaze ahead, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle. They would ride until nightfall for the next few days. And after that, he could not say what would happen. The High King might deny that he’d ever fathered a son. Or if Killian dared to try a rescue, he might lose his life in the attempt.
There were so many paths leading toward disaster, and it all depended on the High King’s decisions. Lugh, but he wished he held power of his own, a means of controlling the outcome of this.
The cat peered out from his basket and began sniffing at Taryn’s other hand. She yelped when the animal placed his paw upon her hand. The mare whinnied, tossing her head at Taryn’s cry.
“Easy,” Killian soothed. “Harold was only wanting a bit of your affection.”
“He startled me.” She lowered her shoulders, visibly trying to relax. “I cannot believe I am traveling with a cat. You should have kept him beside you.”
He took her hand once more and brought it to the animal’s head. She appeared wary, but allowed him to guide her fingers. “He likes it when you stroke his ears. A curious beastie, is young Harold.”
For a time, he guided her hand over the animal’s soft fur. The cat purred contentedly, and Taryn did seem to relax. “There, now. He does like you, do you see?”
She gave a nod. “I suppose so. But his claws make me nervous.”
“He won’t harm you,” Killian promised. He kept a gentle pressure upon her palm and met her gaze openly. Her blue eyes held wariness, and he said quietly, “He wants to have your touch upon him.”
She looked down, biting at her lower lip, as if she’d guessed what he meant to say.
They rode away from Laochre along the main road. The horses maintained a good pace, their hooves crunching over the ice and snow upon the ground. Taryn kept her heavy cloak over her shoulders, the hood shielding her face. Though he knew what lay beyond the folds of that hood, she was one of the most striking women he’d ever seen. She wore her emotions on her face, and there was a blend of gratefulness and worry over the coming days. The instinct came over him once more, to protect this woman.
“Will you stay at my side, throughout this journey?” she asked.
“If that’s what you’re wanting,” he answered. “Or if you need me to guard you from this ferocious beast.” He released her hand and reached over to scratch the cat’s head. Harold leaned into his palm, purring and bumping his hand with his paw.
He smiled at Taryn, and she softened to it. A faint smile edged her mouth, and the sight of it caught him low in the gut.
“Take off the hood,” he commanded.
She grew serious. “No. I don’t want to frighten the men around me.”
“You’ve no reason to hide your face. Not from me or anyone else.” He suspected she’d grown accustomed to veiling herfeatures, keeping herself apart from the world. “Their attention is on the road ahead and the land around them. Not you.”
She hesitated, flinching when the cat pushed his head against her hand. “I don’t know if that’s wise.”
“Then be unwise.” He reached out and pulled the hood off. She had not worn a veil, but her hair hung down around her shoulders. The black strands held a slight curl, and they framed her pale skin, making her features stand out even more.
She could not see past the scars to find the beauty that was there. He could see it, in the soft curve of her nose, the full lips that he’d tasted. And those eyes that looked upon him as if she saw a man, not a slave.
He’d never before met a woman like her. And when she reached for his hand once again, the gesture shot a bolt of heat through him. He imagined those hands moving over his shoulders and down lower. Her fingers had dug into his skin when he’d pleasured her, and he wanted to feel her fingertips upon him once more. Killian let her hold his hand, not even caring how it must seem to others.
“My father has only a few days left to live,” she said suddenly. “Unless we can save him.”
He gripped her palm. “We will try. But when we arrive at Tara, you must not let anyone know who you are. Keep yourself hidden among the other ladies at first until we know more. The High King will be angry enough that Carice is gone. Do not let anyone know that you are Devlin’s daughter.”
She appeared uneasy about his orders. “I have to let them know. My reason for going to Tara is to beg an audience from the High King.”
Killian didn’t like that idea at all. “He may cast blame upon you for Carice’s disappearance. You cannot take the risk.”
