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Oriana raised her hand to caress his cheek. He was the only man she had ever touched with true feeling, and after knowing him, there could be no others. His slight smile was so sweet, she had to close her eyes for a moment. When she looked up, their golden depths reflected the flames’ dancing light.
“You no longer doubt who I am?” she asked.
Egan rose and drew her up into his arms. “No. You’re Lugh’s daughter; you could be no one else’s.”
Although fearing his growing fondness for her had put an end to his skepticism, she rested her head against his chest. Beneath her ear, his heart beat with a slow steady rhythm, while hers was all aflutter. She knew what she longed to do, but what she had to do to protect him was all that truly mattered. When at last she could bear to, she pulled away from his embrace.
“You must marry a woman whose family actually does offer a powerful alliance. It’s what kings do; what they must do to survive. I’ve no warriors to defend you, and if I were to remain here, the controversy about me will surely grow. When you refuse to name my father, your kin will swiftly conclude you’re plotting against them. The ceremony that makes you king has yet to be held. What if another man is chosen? Would he allow you to live?”
Astonished she held so many desperate fears, Egan reached out to encircle her waist, and after encountering only mild resistance, succeeded in pulling her close. He was certain she could feel her affect upon him through her soft woolen gown, but he was not ashamed to be so easily aroused and slid his hands down her back to press her hips closer still.
“Are you now able to see my future with a new clarity?” he asked.
Exquisitely aware of his pride and strength, Oriana hung her head. “No. The knowing confides nothing more than a sense of foreboding where you’re concerned, but you’ve told me something of your family’s history.”
Egan shifted slightly to enfold her soft, slender curves in an even more confining embrace and rested his chin atop her curls. “I intend to be king of the Dál Cais, Oriana, and I’ll rule with the woman I choose.”
“Now who is being willful?” she breathed out against his chest. She slid her arms around his waist and clutched his tunic to hold him with equal strength. He swaggered through life brandishing a broadsword, while she crept along the shadows. They could not have been more different, and yet, for a few glorious moments, she felt safe in his arms. That he was not also safe in hers broke her heart.
Egan forced himself to stand still but it was all he could do not to swing Oriana up into his arms and carry her the few short paces to his bed. H
e ached to have her and yet remained motionless while she leaned into him. She had always recoiled from his touch, but now that she could at last tolerate a warm embrace, he dared not move and frighten her away.
He closed his eyes to heighten the sensation, no, the havoc, she created within him. No other woman had ever invaded his soul with a single glance. There was an ever present remoteness about her that he sensed masked a deep longing, but he had no hope of satisfying it other than with the generous affection she had always refused. He waited a long while to find words worth speaking.
“What do you know of falconry?” he murmured.
While she rested so comfortably in his arms, his voice surrounded her with a deep, seductive resonance. It was a richly masculine sound, and in its own way, as compelling as Lugh’s song.
“I know only that the hawks are both beautiful and deadly.” Like you, she thoughtfully did not add.
Egan stretched slightly to ease the growing tension in his shoulders and began to sift her long curls through his fingers. “We hunt with the gyrfalcon or peregrine. Females are preferred because they’re larger and stronger. It’s best to take them from their nests or aerie and train them before they’ve learned to fly and hunt on their own. Such a bird is known as an eyas. But a hawk of passage is one caught during migration. It is still young, but having known freedom, is a far greater challenge to train.”
Oriana tipped her head and saw his sly smile. “Are you likening me to one of your falcons?”
That was precisely what Egan had been doing, but caution forced a denial. “Nay, I doubt any man could tame you.”
It pained her that he appeared unwilling to even make an attempt. She lowered her head and rubbed her cheek against his soft woolen tunic. They were so close his heated desire warmed her clear through, but she still felt terribly alone. Perhaps like the birds of prey, she should have been taken when very young. Now the gods had waited too long to claim her, and mortal men dared not even try.
Then who had yanked her from Egan’s passionate embrace last night? Torn by the ever present danger to him and by her own confused folly, she placed both hands on the solid wall of his chest to push him away. “Tonight I would like to sleep in your mother’s chamber if I may.”
Her tone was softly apologetic, but all Egan heard was a plaintive plea to sleep anywhere but with him. Badly disappointed the tenderness of his touch meant so little to her, he dropped his hands to his sides, but his thoughts were not so easily controlled.
“You may sleep wherever you choose, my lady, but I’ll rest there as well,” he promised, and his steady gaze brooked no argument.
Oriana accepted the inevitable defeat with a slight shrug. “There is no point in going elsewhere then,” she replied, but she had heard Albyn caution him to hunt alone tomorrow.
She smiled slightly as she returned to the chair for another restless night, but the moment Egan was out of sight on the morrow, she would ride Brute into the forest and not once look back.
Egan knew better than to believe Oriana had suddenly become agreeable, but bit back a vile curse before it sprang from his lips. “I’m going to step outside and count to twenty. When I return, I expect you to be in my bed and dressed in no more than your shift.”
Oriana was already absorbed in the leaping flames. “Expect whatever you please,” she responded absently. “I’ll wait here.”
Egan was tempted to kick the chair right out from under her, but he doubted it would do any good. “I’ve never struck a woman, but I swear you are well on your way to becoming the first.”
Unconcerned by his threat, Oriana propped a foot on the seat of the chair and looped her arms around her bent knee before glancing toward him. “I’ll grant that you could kill me with a single mighty blow.”
“Nay,” Egan responded with a derisive snort. “I’d rather strangle you.” He had meant to sound fierce, but caught by the absurdity of his ever truly wishing to harm her, a tug of barely suppressed laughter ruined his frown.
