Authors: Phoebe Conn
Brendan had never wanted any woman as badly as he wanted Dana. It was no longer the challenge to possess the fiery beauty that drove him, but a desire so deep it bordered upon madness. He clung to her, his lips returning to hers again and again before he peeled her chemise clear down to her waist. Discovering the cut of her shift was too narrow to allow the access to her breasts he craved, he simply ripped it open and buried his face between the kiss-swollen mounds.
The wildness of Brendan’s passion inflamed her own, and had he been wearing a kirtle, Dana would have ripped it from him. With each kiss he gave, she wanted more. Never passive, she lured him on with breathless sighs and caresses that grew increasingly more bold until finally she slid her hands beneath the waistband of his breeches to ease them down over his hips.
Brendan scarcely needed such enthusiastic encouragement to make love to her, but he was grateful for it, all the same. He raised himself up on his elbows to look down at her, wanting to memorize the glow that passion gave her gaze, but as he leaned down to kiss her they heard Berit calling her name, followed by a sparkling burst of giggles that sounded much too close.
When Brendan gave a harsh cry of disappointment, Dana clamped her hand over his mouth to silence him. She had to struggle to catch her breath, but succeeded in doing so before he did. “Hush,” she ordered in a frantic whisper. When he got up and pulled his breeches back into place, she looked down at her torn and disheveled garments and feared she must look as though she had been raped. Although her hands shook badly, she managed to pull her torn shift together and wiggle back into her chemise. She yanked her tunic over her head, then stood up and brushed off the blades of grass that clung to the deep rose fabric.
Brendan looked no better than she felt, and while they could still hear Berit calling her name, Dana couldn’t bring herself to reply. “I am so sorry,” she began.
“Don’t wait for Berit to come back to see Erik. Meet me here tonight.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t.”
“You must!”
Dana ran her fingers through her curls and winced at the tangles. “No, that’s impossible.” What had happened to her mind? she groaned inwardly. She was bright. How could she have thrown herself at Brendan as she had? The man’s touch had an indescribable magic and his kiss was divine, but that did not change the fact he was a thrall, and the pleasure they had shared was too dangerous to repeat.
Correctly reading the fear in her expression, Brendan reached out to grab her arms and pulled her close. “Tell Berit you fell asleep. That will explain how you look. Meet me back here tonight, or I will go to Grena and tell her exactly how her daughter spent the afternoon. You know what will happen to Erik’s plans to wed her then.”
“You wouldn’t!”
Cleverly Brendan had not threatened Dana directly when he knew her love for her half brother would make a far better weapon. “Oh, yes, I would, and you know it too.”
Dana’s eyes filled with tears, but her terror failed to move Brendan. His expression remained fierce as he awaited her reply. She swallowed hard, trying to think of some way to change his mind. “It is too far,” she finally argued. “You can’t expect me to come all this way in the dark.”
Brendan increased the pressure on her arms until pain filled her glance with dread, but still she would not agree to his demand. “All right. Meet me at the edge of the woods where we talked last week, but you must be there before midnight or I will make my way to Grena’s. I want what you offered me so willingly this afternoon too badly to wait past tonight to have it.”
Too late Dana realized her impulse to run had been the one she should have heeded rather than allowing her weakness for him to overrule her reason. She still had a choice, however. She could tell Erik what Brendan intended to do. She knew Erik would help her, but as she heard Berit calling her name again, that seemed like a terribly selfish way out of her dilemma, for Erik had more than enough problems of his own without her creating new ones for him. This was a mess she had gotten into on her own, and she would have to get out of it the same way.
“I’ll meet you at the edge of the woods. You have my word on it.”
Brendan bid her farewell with a bruising kiss. “I’ll have far more than that, Dana. Don’t be late.”
When he released her, Dana walked away with all the dignity she could summon, but she had never expected the joy she had found in his arms to so quickly turn to dread.
Chapter Twelve
As they returned to Grena’s farm, Dana and Berit provided a study in stark contrasts. Berit was relaxed, smiling radiantly as she talked about the home she soon hoped to share with Erik. Dana’s features were etched with tension, however, for she was filled with a dreadful sense of foreboding that made attending to her ebullient companion’s comments nearly impossible. When they reached Grena’s, she again stayed to have refreshments with her aunt, but the effort to converse with the woman gave her a headache so severe that by the time she left she feared she might actually topple from her mare’s back before reaching home.
Dana knew she had to meet Brendan that night. She simply could not risk jeopardizing Erik and Berit’s future by defying him. She had absolutely no intention of submitting to his demand that they become lovers, though. They had not had sufficient time to talk after Berit had interrupted them, a happenstance for which she was supremely grateful, but talk was all she intended to do later.
While it was plain Brendan wanted her, and badly, she was positive he would want his freedom more. She would offer him that prize, with the two conditions that he make no further demands on her and that he also keep his silence about Erik and Berit’s romance. To her it seemed like an excellent exchange, and one Brendan could not possibly refuse. How she would arrange the details of setting him free she was not certain, but she was confident she could accomplish it without revealing to either her mother or aunt the reason why it was imperative that she do so.
The day had taken on a seemingly interminable length by the time the distraught redhead retired for bed. To make matters worse, Thora was in a playful mood. Dana had hoped her sister would fall asleep as quickly as she usually did, but that night the ten-year-old giggled and talked far later than she ever had. When finally she did close her eyes, Dana was so relieved she did not immediately rise and prepare to leave, but instead remained in the bed they shared to silently rehearse what she wished to say to Brendan. By the time she was certain she had found the perfect manner in which to propose her bargain, the strain of the day had left her exhausted.
Thinking she would be wise to take a brief nap before meeting the wily Celt, Dana gave in to the irresistible urge to close her eyes and rest. Her bed was warm, and snuggled in the thick quilts, she felt the pain of her dilemma swiftly replaced with thoughts of Brendan that were both compelling and sweet.
The landscape of her dream was a moonlit shore. She was standing at the water’s edge, watching Brendan swim toward her from far out in the shimmering sea. When he reached shallow water, he stood and began to walk toward her. The water streaming off his broad shoulders reflected the moon’s radiant light, creating a glittering cape that hurled droplets of fiery brilliance with every step. He was nude, and the perfection of his powerful build gave him the mystical aura of a god, but it was his eyes that captured her heart with a gaze so piercing it burned clear through her, igniting an unquenchable flame of desire.
She stood transfixed, unable to greet him with more than a low moan before he reached her. He did not speak either, but merely inclined his head to brush her lips with a gentle kiss. The cool seawater dripping from his curls rolled down her cheek, leaving the salty trail of a tear. His lips were warm, enticing, inviting surrender, but when she reached out to enfold him in her arms his sea-bathed body was as cold as death.
Instantly reacting to the shock of that unexpected chill, Dana awoke with a start. Her heart was pounding wildly, and she knew that had she not awakened when she did she would have given herself to Brendan with the same mindless abandon she had displayed that afternoon. She was horrified that her desires betrayed her even in her sleep, but she soon shoved that disgrace aside when she realized she had no idea how long she had slept. What if it was past midnight and Brendan had already left for Grena’s?
After leaping from her bed, Dana dared not waste any time changing out of her nightgown, but she donned her cloak and hoped the ample folds of the long woolen garment provided a modest enough covering. Barefoot, she tiptoed out of the house, then broke into a run as she crossed the yard. The moon was high overhead, feeding her fears that she would be too late to stop Brendan, but just as she reached the stable he tore around the corner astride Sky Dancer and nearly ran her down.
Brendan had waited at the edge of the woods long past the hour he had sworn to depart. Infuriated that Dana had not kept her promise to meet him, he had decided to insult her in return by riding Haakon’s prize stallion to Grena’s. That he had come so close to trampling the stunning redhead horrified him, but he reached down to pluck her off her feet, and holding her tightly in front of him, he carried her back to the spot where they had agreed to meet.
The breath forced from her lungs by Brendan’s confining grasp, Dana laced her fingers in Sky Dancer’s flowing mane and tried to hang on rather than give in to the weakness that threatened to leave her in a helpless faint. To again be in Brendan’s arms was terrible, and to be on Sky Dancer’s back made that outrage all the worse. The magnificent horse seemed to find two people as easy to carry as one, for his stride was long and swift, but she could not ignore the fact that Brendan had again defied her wishes by choosing her father’s stallion as his mount.
As they neared the secluded spot where Brendan had expected to find Dana waiting earlier, he loosened his hold on her waist and began to nuzzle the elegant line of her throat with light kisses. She was the most perverse of females, but her flowing cloak convinced him she had been on her way to meet him, and he would not waste the few remaining hours of darkness in criticizing her tardiness. He had spent the time they had been apart in nearly breathless anticipation, and he intended to claim the prize that had eluded him earlier without further delay.
That Brendan’s mood would be so loving surprised Dana, but knowing she dared not accept any of his affection, she hastened to escape his embrace the instant he brought Sky Dancer to a halt. In the dark she misjudged the distance to the ground, stumbled, and lost her footing. Before she could scramble to her feet and back away, Brendan had slid from the white stallion’s back, given him a whack on the rump to send him out of their way, and joined her on the grass.
Pulling her into a fervent embrace, he silenced her protests before she could voice them. The hours they had been apart dissolved in his mind, and they were again at the edge of the stream, allowing their passions free rein. Bathed in sunlight, Dana’s perfume had teased his senses. Now veiled in a sensuous web of darkness, the exotic fragrance spurred his desire, driving him to put an end to the physical torment his need for her had made him endure all day. He paused to yank off his kirtle, then again captured her lips in a searing kiss that took her breath away.
Appalled that the amorous Celt was again wreaking havoc with her emotions, Dana tried to summon the anger necessary to break free of his enthusiastic embrace, but she failed miserably and her motions were so subtle they served only to arouse him to further heights. He then pulled her right hand down between them to rub the smooth surface of her palm against the hardened shaft of his manhood. What he wanted was shockingly plain, but Dana continued to fight a losing battle within herself, for she was loath to admit it was what she wanted too.
Even crazed with desire, Brendan recognized Dana’s reticence to complete what they had begun that afternoon. She had not been the one kept waiting, however, and he had no intention of allowing the dawn to overtake them before he had had his fill of her charms. He wanted her nude, and eased the burden of his weight from her lissome body for the fraction of a second it required to pull her cloak and flowing nightgown off over her head.
“Brendan,” Dana gasped as his lips left hers momentarily, but all too soon his hair-roughened chest was pressed against the lush fullness of her bare breasts and she could recall none of the speech she had so carefully prepared. His next kiss was flavored with the adoring sweetness he had shown her that afternoon, and she could no longer deny that she wanted him as badly as she had then.
Encouraged by the warmth of Dana’s acceptance, Brendan relaxed his hold on her. He moved aside so he could caress the tender tips of her breasts with his hands and lips until he had coaxed a soft sigh of surrender from her, for he wanted their pleasure to be shared. Continuing that quest, he moved his hand over the smooth hollow of her stomach, across her hip, and then down the outside of a thigh that proved to be as long and shapely as he had imagined. After gliding over her knee, he traced the gentle curve of her inner thigh, slowly moving his hand higher until his fingertips brushed the triangle of curls he was certain would be as fiery a red as her flowing tresses.
Dana knew all hope of reasoning with him was already lost, but she still tried to elude his touch as it grew increasingly more intimate. Brendan’s response was a low chuckle as he delved even deeper into her welcoming wetness. She reached down to clasp his wrist, but then could not bear to push him away when his rhythmic touch filled her with longing for still more of the most exquisite sensation she had ever felt. She had never dreamed she could be so dreadfully weak, but, then, she had never allowed any man to take more than a hurried kiss she had had no desire to return. Brendan was like no other man, though, and the tenderness of his tantalizing touch had proved that in a way his words never could.