Irish Moon (24 page)

“Why do you this to me?” she said in a voice
nearly a whimper.

He didn’t know. He shouldn’t do this or
anything like it. It took advantage of her aid, of her secrecy,
placed both at risk. But the pull was so strong and again he
thought one last taste would quench him.

He suckled her skin and held her close. Her
panting breaths sang a sweet song to his soul. He kissed her as
tenderly as he suddenly felt.

He heard a voice. Ashlon stopped. He pulled
away. Breanne’s eyes fluttered open and when they met his
countenance, became as serious as his.

“Did you hear that?”

She shook her head. The voice came again. It
was somebody singing.

“Danny,” she said in a gasp. “Quickly,
hide.”

Ashlon looked around. “Where?”

Breanne looked
about
,
as
well
,
and had no
answer. “Stay here.” She leapt to her feet and sprinted up the
path.

“Breanne,” he whispered, but it was useless.
She’d already gone.

Ashlon punched the ground, ignoring the smart
in his fist. What was she thinking leaving to meet the boy? A boy
of ten couldn’t protect her and she shouldn’t still believe herself
able to when he had clearly demonstrated how easily one could
overtake a woman, or a man.

Why she’d had to stand on a rock just to get
to his jugular. How many good-sized rocks could be counted on to be
ready for her when a true threat grabbed her?

Ashlon laid back his head and felt her dagger
beneath it. He withdrew it from its grassy nest and, with a curse,
threw it into a tree trunk across the path. It stuck, wobbled and
sang a dull twang. Ashlon shook his head. She’d forgotten the
single thing that gave her some degree of advantage over man or
beast.

Yet, he stayed, as told. He couldn’t have the
boy seeing them alone together. She’d be able to use their bond to
keep him quiet and, alone, would likely seem innocent to a child’s
mind. But even a child could guess something amiss when a man and
woman came from the dark woods.

And her. She’d up and left
as though they hadn’t just been entangled and repeating the same
mistake. Unless she didn’t see it as one. He hadn’t considered that
she might actually want him to kiss her. She was looking to secure
a husband
,
after
all.

Ludicrous idea. She’d told him to leave at
once. That was not the message of one wanting a courtship, now was
it? Or did she think their encounter would make him leave, the
threat of marriage clear?

Women. They were far too mysterious. No
sooner did he think he understood one, they changed.

Chapter Fourteen

The only good thing about her mother ordering
her to bed was that Breanne could sleep the missed hours from that
night and morning after safely returning.

Danny had come just in
time and she’d have thanked him if it were possible. He had not
only saved Breanne from a full seduction right there on the forest
ground
,
but from
Erlene discovering her gone.

Thanks weren’t possible when she could only
act as though naught was amiss, the two of them happening upon each
other as they had. She’d needed some air after being cooped up in
her room all day and had to sneak past the chambermaid. Danny had
nodded soberly at her excuse and offered his own. He couldn’t
sleep.

With a loud grumbling yawn, Erlene had woke
the moment Breanne’s head hit the pillow.

Breanne closed her eyes and pretended to wake
soon after. Erlene didn’t seem at all suspicious as Breanne worried
at her lip, twisting the tip of her braid. More than once, she had
to remind herself to hide the mark he said he’d left, although it
might have been a ruse to kiss her again.

Moon and stars, his kiss was mesmerizing,
dangerously so. All logic fell away to physical sensation when his
lips touched hers only to slam back when they rudely stopped.

She liked those kisses far too much. If she
were to be a success at helping his quest, as Heremon indicated was
in fact her own quest, she would need to control her senses when he
was near. No more kissing, to be sure.

Tossing about, she’d recalled every last
detail, sending flushes through her. Erlene only raised an
inquisitive eyebrow once, sending her into a full blush.

It amazed her how much a difference the book
and note made within her. Yesterday, her only fervent wish was that
Ashlon Sinclair leave Tir Conaill, whole and well, but certainly
gone. She’d avoided seeing him to such lengths that her mother and
Rose thought she’d joined the ranks of women, a long hoped for
thing.

She couldn’t even glance his way during
dining a day ago without hating her lot and all that came with
finding him. Even her belly had clenched and rolled with one
smile.

Now she saw the truth. She’d just refused to
see the obvious, which was that he needed her. Whatever this chest
meant or held, and that must be important for Heremon to have gone
to the effort of drawing it, she had to help Ashlon locate it.

And then he could leave.

Breanne winced. The wish she’d had didn’t
seem as good of one now. Not that she meant to keep him here. How
could she? Why would she? A few hypnotic kisses weren’t enough to
want him to stay and become a clansman.

She was set to marry—someone--within four
short weeks. Little sense she’d have to be dwelling on the fact
that she was not to be his.

No more kissing.

She would treat the transgressions of lust as
lessons, intentional or not, and use them as a guide for what she
should feel when her husband did the kissing.

That way, she could still consider the
memories without feeling badly. And he certainly set the standard
high. Why, if Quinlan’s kiss had been half as wonderful, Breanne
had no doubt she’d still be fully and absolutely in love with her
childhood friend.

And then Rose would be
happy, her mother would be happy, Niall would be happy. And she
could be….
u
nhappy.

It wasn’t that she didn’t still love Quinlan.
She did. She just didn’t want to kiss him, or feel his hands on her
body, like Ashlon’s hands.

Was she being too hard on Quinlan?

Perhaps she should give him another chance as
he’d asked, but truly this time. She should kiss him. She should
kiss Gannon, too. Mayhap. And why not Ashlon again while you’re
spreading your affections about, a tiny voice said?

She sighed again and rolled again.

Erlene tsked, folding her bedcovers. “If you
like, I can ask your mother up to check on you, but I’ll promise
you she’s never changed orders on me before and I don’t liken will
do so now.”

“No, thank you, but I know you are right. I
do need rest.” More than Erlene would ever guess. “But my mind is
busy as a bee in summer. I canno’ seem to clear it.”

“What you need is something tae read. I ‘ave
a small book of lyric and it puts me tae sleep before I even finish
one page.”

While the last didn’t surprise Breanne, that
Erlene owned any book did. There she went again, judging and
misconstruing what was right in front of her face.

Reading was an excellent
idea
,
though
,
and
Breanne closed her eyes, remembering the book she’d tucked into her
truck. Heremon’s Grimoire. Wonder filled her just knowing she
possessed it. The knowledge comforted her enough that she promptly
fell asleep.

* * * *

Ashlon woke from his short rest to a visitor.
Quinlan Blake. He’d forgotten the agreed upon lessons. He was
supposed to be helping young Quinlan catch Breanne’s heart and
simultaneously learn the language and land. He rubbed his eyes and
answered the knock, pushing away the guilt niggling his brain.

He’d been ravishing the very lady this man
had set his heart on and Ashlon didn’t need it pointed out how
dishonorable that made him. Not only to have given in to base need
by tasting her delicious lips again with no intention of marrying
her, but he also must keep their association from Quinlan. And this
bargain, from her.

A matchmaker would not do to be weaseling the
territory he was asked to aid conquering for another. Not that he’d
made any progress in the issue. Their single conversation could
hardly be counted as a lesson. Still, the whole situation smacked
indecent.

He felt to be a rogue.

He longed for the day that he could end
subterfuge and secrecy from his life. Never before had he been a
user of other persons to meet a desired end. The fact that Quinlan
had come to him with the bargain and that Ashlon’s intentions with
Breanne had been platonic a day ago did little to help him feel
better.

He must end the lessons and find another
route to learn the language. Mayhap he should skip learning Gaelic
altogether now that he had secured Breanne’s help. But then if he
needed it further….

Quinlan knocked again, called his name.

Ashlon answered the hostel room door ready to
end their partnership with a grimace on his face. Quinlan entered
the small room unfazed, beaming brighter than any man should at the
early hour.

“Why have you not moved to the keep?” he
asked while Ashlon put on his boots.

He didn’t give the truth, that he was loathe
to be so close to Breanne after their heated embrace only hours
ago, or that it might make him so much more fond of the people
here.

“I will be traveling on soon. It would only
improve what I sleep on and I can’t see a reason to overextend my
welcome.”

“Nonsense. Niall has already mentioned to me
that you should consider a private chamber in his keep and to get
you into one before the wedding guests arrive and all are one on
top of the other.”

The chieftain had only
tried to persuade Ashlon once, but apparently had not given
up
,
as he’d
thought. A private chamber that might only be doors away from hers
couldn’t be a good idea, except that they could better
communicate.

But they’d be doing no communicating aside
from polite conversation in passing once she translated the
script.

“When will the guests arrive?”

“Within this sennight, no
later. As much time as we will spend in your tutelage and since you
already dine with us in the great hall, I cannot see a reason to
refuse.” Quinlan followed Ashlon out the door. “Or is there
something you’re not telling me? Sir Ashlon
,
is there another reason you wish
to stay away?” They stepped outside and Quinlan’s eyes narrowed on
Ashlon.

And what could he answer to that? Yes, Master
Blake, I cannot seem to keep my thoughts or hands or mouth off of
your intended bride?

“I’ll consider it,” Ashlon said. What he
would consider was a more irrefutable excuse.

Quinlan clapped him on the shoulder, beaming
once again. He couldn’t be more than twenty and three and still had
an innocence about him that Ashlon found reminded him of his
brother Christophe.

His chest panged at the
realization. They had different coloring, heights, weights, but
their practical way was identical. Also similar was how each
handled uneasy topics through veiled avoidance, circling and
dancing the matter to death
,
as Quinlan had done yesterday.

“Shall we ride again?” Quinlan suggested,
gesturing to the already saddled steeds in wait for them.

Ashlon took a breath of the chilly morning
air to clear his head as they rode north. The thunder of hooves and
brisk air did little more than make him feel more alert and thus
more aware of his missing Christophe.

The pain’s freshness still surprised him, as
well as how sudden it could come upon him after so long. The older
brother he had lost by tragic accident contrasted with the man just
ahead, riding carefree and unaware of his companion’s thoughts.

Yet another reason to stop their
meetings.

Quinlan reigned in his stallion so that it
was nose to nose with Ashlon’s.

“I’ve considered what we spoke of yesterday.
I broached the subject with Niall and he took to the idea
amiably.”

“I thought I made it clear that I have no
interest in Lady Breanne’s keep,” Ashlon said.

“You did and I have honored your decision. I
asked Niall that I might see the holdings and that I would be
asking your consult on its security.”

Ashlon’s anger cooled a bit.

“He saw it as a gesture of
courtship and assumes I have made progress with Breanne. I probably
should have dissuaded his assumption
,
but interest in seeing the keep
outweighed my sense of obligation.” Quinlan’s horse nickered.
“Since her father’s death, I’m not sure of any aside from those
handling upkeep have entered it.”

Ah, so that is why he smiled like a boy
today. The promise of small adventure.

“And what will you tell the Lady upon seeing
her?”

“That will depend on what we discover, I
suppose. Niall won’t mention it as I asked it remain a surprise in
the event that I do secure her hand. Not that I doubt I will. She
has loved me for nigh ten years. And with your help, I can live up
to expectation and be a befitting husband.”

Ashlon suspected the ride to the keep was
more for Quinlan’s benefit than Breanne’s. This way he could
estimate how much he’d be biting off to chew by winning her.

It was an ideal time to bring up ending his
help, but Ashlon found himself a bit curious, as well. To leave it
unoccupied in such a prime target position, he wondered if Niall
were either less than competent, his meandering ways
notwithstanding, or had another motive.