Part 12 (2/2)

She stiffened with understanding and flattened her hands to his chest. The feel of his skin, cool and smooth beneath her palms, was exquisite, fogging her senses. ”Nay,” she managed.

”For a moment, la.s.s, you are not the Irish princess. I am not the invader. For a moment, we are as we were in the field, in the barn ... strangers.”

She gazed into his liquid dark eyes, seeing the heat of his desire before she felt it against her body. Beyond the part.i.tion, the hall was filled with people, their noise coming to them, the clank of platters and the cry for ale and food.

He gathered her against him.

”Nay, PenDragon. This will not help.” Her voice wavered and Gaelan would swear she was close to tears. He tipped her chin and found her eyes glossy.

”Why not?”

”You are the enemy. I cannot betray them all for my feelings. Not now.”

”And what are these feelings?”

Desire, whispered through her mind. ”'Tis useless to speak of them.”

Gaelan's throat tightened sharply. His heart, thundering at her touch, now raced and heated his blood further. ”You loathe all that I am.”

Her shoulders s.h.i.+fted. ”Aye.”

”But you desire me.”

”Nay.”

He read the lie in her eyes. ”Say it, Siobhan. Once afore I leave here, say it.”

”Aye,” she choked, refusing to let tears fall.

Gaelan bent, his head nearing. She was still, a little helpless sound escaping. He swallowed it, drank it into himself, his lips moving in slow deliberation over hers. The sound came again, a fracture in her s.h.i.+eld, and it left him weak to hear more. He tasted her, sweeping his arms tightly around her slender form and pressing her to his length. She moaned, a telling sound of a pa.s.sion she kept capped and away from all who knew her, all who only saw it when she defied him and denied a king. Her hands s.h.i.+fted, rubbing over his bare chest, her thumbs rasping across his nipples. Gaelan's knees buckled and he slumped to the edge of the desk, pulling her between his thighs.

His hand swept down to the base of her spine, pressing her softness to his groin, and she s.h.i.+fted against him, restless, impatient. A tiny bit of surrender. Gaelan thought he would lose control right then, twist about and take her on the dusty desk. Instead, he tore his mouth from hers, his lips searing over her face, her throat, bending her back over his arm and nipping at the swell of her bosom. Her fingers sank into his hair, and suddenly she brought him back to her mouth, kissing him with all the heat she held, all the moments of desire she'd crushed. Her tongue pushed between his lips and he clutched her, wildly mapping the contours of her spine, her b.u.t.tocks.

In the privacy of the solar, whilst the world moved on around them, Gaelan savored the delight of having her for one brief moment. He was not good enough for her, undeserving. She hated him, hated all there was about him, yet here, she desired. Here, he could touch the purity of her and feel clean and untainted by the blood on his hands. Here, he was worthy of her. She was innocent and giving and warm in his arms, her fingers singing through his hair, touching his features with a wildness that ached for release.

Screams filled the air, tearing them apart. Gaelan frowned, releasing her, grabbing his sword and moving to the part.i.tion. He shouted for silence, searching for Raymond or Driscoll. Then a trumpeter hailed, the sound quivering through the walls from the gates and towers. Her eyes flew wide and she looked at him. He was already at the doors. She ordered everyone inside and the keep doors sealed before she grabbed her cloak and followed.

Gaelan ran, his sword slapping his thigh as he barked orders for the inner gate to close behind him. Siobhan slipped through, lifting her skirts and das.h.i.+ng after him. A patrol crossed the stone road, hooves clattering until they met the ground of the outer ward. Sir Owen slid from the saddle, slipped off his helm to address Gaelan.

”An army comes,” he managed, winded.

”A garrison?”

”Nay, but enough, sir.”

Five knights surrounded him, awaiting orders. ”All troops to arms. Send men on horseback to gather the folk living outside. Take them, if they protest.” There were hundreds living in cl.u.s.ters beyond the outer curtain, serving the needs of the village and castle, and he would not have a single soul harmed when he'd sworn to protect. Ordering the tower watch doubled as well as the archers at the arrow loops and along the parapet, he ran to the parapet, foregoing the staircase in the stone tower and climbing the scaffolding. He surveyed the area. With the sea at their back, they were vulnerable on three sides.

”PenDragon!”

He turned and peered over the wood rail. ”Get into the keep, woman.”

She reached for the wood ladder. ”I can take the stairs, but then, I will be very angry by the time I reach you.”

Gaelan smiled to himself and as she climbed, he caught her about the waist and lifted her to the ledge. ”Your stubbornness will get you killed,” he said gravely, still holding her waist.

”Then mayhaps you should leave Ireland.”

”Mayhaps you should simply obey me?” His lips curved, the smile too genuine, p.r.i.c.king through her ire.

The devil take him, she thought, throwing off his hands even as her heart tripped. ”Who is it?”

”An invader.”

She sent him a side glance, her lips twisting wryly, then moved to the edge. She squinted, unable see aught but the rolling green hills.

Gaelan walked the parapet, relaying orders, and as the carts and hors.e.m.e.n rode inside, depositing villagers, Siobhan hailed them by name, motioning them to the inner ward. The gate closed like a snapping jaw and she looked at Gaelan. Already donning a s.h.i.+rt and leather-padded tunic, he spoke to his knights and soldiers as Reese helped him into his armor. Where she expected him to garb himself completely, he donned only the breast and back plate, shoulder and vambraces, as he had in the forest. He placed his helm on the ledge, its fountaining plume noticeable for a half mile, and she expected 'twas his intention. The face s.h.i.+eld was down, molded in the fierce snout of a dragon. It made her skin crawl. Today she would see him as he truly was, a man who lived by the skill of his sword, spilling blood to earn his pay.

He loaded a crossbow, the muscles in his forearms and hands flexing as he pulled the bolt into position. He had the strength to snap her neck in those hands, she thought, yet those same rough, scarred hands had been gentle on her body, in her hair. Unfamiliar feelings tripped through her body, sympathy and understanding for his harsh life crowding with the price she would eventually pay-they would all pay-for the sake of his fee and King Henry's greed.

She turned back to the wall, cursing her weakness. Torches flamed to add light before the sun fell too deep. Then she saw them. Riders. Over a hundred at least, cresting the hilltop. No banners flew. They neared and she gripped the edge of mortar and stone, praying the PenDragon lived up to his reputation.

He moved up behind her and felt her fear. ”Who is it, Siobhan?”

”The Maguire.”

Gaelan squinted. ”I will have O'Niell's head for this!”

She twisted a look up at him, yet his gaze lay on the approaching army ”Lochlann had no time to warn him. Maguire lands are to the south. He had to have ridden for two days to get here now.”

He met her gaze. ”Why is he here? He is sworn to Henry, princess.” Her crestfallen look kicked him in the gut.

”You lie!”

”I will give you the chance to ask yourself. Before I kill him.” He moved away, ordering the archers to load weapons, the doors secured.

If Ian had not sworn, PenDragon would open fire. If he was Henry's man now, Ian would be, at the least, severely fined and, at this tender state, could lose his lands. The Irish warriors rode down one hill and up another, spreading out around the entrance to Donegal castle. With the crossbow, Gaelan stood atop the wall, making himself a target.

”Sweet Mary mother, PenDragon, get down.”

He looked at her, smirking. ”Careful la.s.s, one would think you care if I live or die.”

She scoffed. ”Go ahead then. G.o.d pities fools.”

The leader pushed his cloak back off his shoulders.

”Why do you come, Maguire?” Gaelan called.

<script>