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Now he was left on his own to fight for the crown that was rightfully his. What did it matter that Egan was the firstborn when he had abandoned them all to spend the better part of each year chasing adventure?
He yelled a challenge that soared over the roar of the churning sea and vowed that no matter what dare Egan devised for the morrow, he would turn it against him in a win so decisive it would end with the crowd chanting his name.
“King!” he shouted into the night. “I will be king!”
Long after midnight, Albyn was still too restless to sleep, and he sat slumped in his boyhood chamber with his head cradled in his hands. He felt he was a fool for wasting so many precious years among the Druids, and although he had voiced his discontent only to Egan, he feared his every move revealed the depth of his torment.
An insistent tap at his door interrupted his musings, but he refused to respond when it was certain to be a Druidess seeking comfort from a virile young man. There had been a time when he would have welcomed such a diversion, but not now when losing himself in a woman’s heat would scarcely ease his pain.
Yet the memory of physical pleasure brought a forbidden longing for Oriana’s graceful touch. He had caught a glimpse of forever in her golden eyes, and had she belonged to any other man, he would have courted her with such imaginative devotion she would surely have come to him most willingly.
His chest tightened with sorrow, for he had made the journey home burdened by one anguish only to meet another he dared not share. Defeated in his search for peace, he stretched out across his bed and willed himself not to weep over what he feared might become an endless string of unfulfilled desires.
Egan dreamed that he and Oriana were floating in a magical sea, the waters of which were as warm and fragrant as a scented bath. The ebb drew her from his arms to create a nearly unbearable longing before the swell of the next wave carried her back to him. He quickly tired of that torture, and with her clasped to his side, rode a cresting wave to the shore.
They arrived in too lazy a mood to stand and lay nestled in the damp sand while the waves’ lacy foam teased and caressed their bare bodies with gently lapping tongues.
Egan wanted to make love to Oriana again, to dip into her luscious heat a thousand times. As before, she welcomed him, and on each thrust took him higher, until he could neither see nor hear the thunder of the ocean. He could only feel Oriana’s heart beating within his own chest, her blood coursing through his veins, and her dazzling thoughts whirling through his mind.
It was more than a passionate coupling. It was the glorious essence of life itself played out in an ageless dance. It stole his breath and left him gasping in a splendor brighter than any flame. When he could at last open his eyes, he was amazed to find himself still in his chamber, where the tapestry had been rolled back to admit the first blush of dawn.
Swathed in furs, he yawned, stretched, and made no move to contain the width of his smile when he found Oriana was already awake. She was cuddled close but lay studying him with a speculative frown he found most disconcerting. “Please don’t say that you were disappointed,” he urged. Almost afraid to touch her, he sat up and brought her hand to his lips.
In return, Oriana brushed his knuckles with a kiss and laced her fingers in his. “I’ll never be disappointed with you,” she swore convincingly.
Still, her smile remained wistful rather than joyous, and Egan could not abide that. “Then making love was not what you’d hoped. It will be better for you the next time though, or the next,” he promised. “You must give me another chance.”
Oriana sat up to face him, her curls wildly bewitching, but she kept a thick fox fur pressed to her bosom. “You’ve misunderstood my mood completely,” she scolded softly. “I’ve lived such a solitary life, and then there you were insisting upon becoming my husband.”
She dipped her head a moment to gather her thoughts. “But I didn’t even imagine what a true marriage entailed. Oh, I understood how the bodies of men and women fit together, but not how it felt. Now I just want to weep for all the years I didn’t know you, but at the same time, glory in the wonder we’ve finally found.”
That was much more complimentary than Egan had anticipated, and he drew her into an exuberant hug. “There is a magic in you, Oriana.” He caught himself before he blurted out what brief pleasures he had shared with other women. He had known only the rising physical tension and bliss of release, but nothing he had experienced had prepared him for loving her. It had been fleeting shadows, while she was a blinding light.
“I do love you, my lady. My wife,” he quickly amended. He leaned back to seek the truth in her eyes. “Will you finally admit that we’re wed?”
Oriana felt as through their shared passion had fused their very souls, and she did indeed feel wedded to him. “Aye,” she admitted shyly, “but I’ve still no magnificent dowry to offer a king.”
“True, but I’ve not had to pay your father an exorbitant bride price either. So in my mind, we’re even, just as though you had brought a fine dowry, and I’d had to pay dearly to call you my own. We’ll have the feast to celebrate later, but we are now wed.”
His eyes were more gray than blue in the dim light. Oriana was confident he possessed keen eyesight. There were just some things he adamantly refused to see.
“I’ll not argue while Kieran poses such a vexing threat,” she said, “but mark my words, beloved, those who’ll oppose me as your queen will not be easily defeated.”
Egan tilted her chin with his fingertips. “Is it simply impossible for you to trust in my love?”
Eager to avoid such close scrutiny of her thoughts, Oriana lay her cheek upon his shoulder, and he immediately enveloped her in a possessive embrace. “I trust you with my heart and life, but I’ll always be an outsider here and it creates a danger for us both.”
“Not once Kieran is defeated, it won’t.” Egan rested his chin atop her curls. He wanted to make love to her all day, and it pained him to have to leave her now. “Albyn is as great a worrier as you. He’ll come to fetch me soon.”
As Egan reluctantly relaxed his embrace, Oriana pushed away. She had not watched him shave, nor seen him dress, and suddenly understood why. “You’ve been using your father’s chamber, haven’t you?”
“Aye,” Egan admitted slyly, as though she had caught him in a trick. “I meant to avoid you at first, and then to give you the privacy a lady deserves.”
Oriana nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve been wearing his clothes?”
Uncertain where their conversation was leading, Egan turned away to swing his legs off the bed. “We were the same size.”
As is Kieran, Oriana did not offer aloud. “It should bring you continued good luck. Do so again today.”
