Chapter Eight
Gooseflesh ran up Maggie’s arms when Flynn reached around her to adjust her stance. Fortunately, the long sleeves of her dress covered her skin from his view or else he would see the physical evidence of her growing interest in him. Despite her best efforts, Maggie was finding it impossible to ignore the thoughts running through her mind or the sensations coursing through her body. She was a lass of twenty summers, after all. She had not been so much as kissed by a lad due to her aversion to men. But what she felt for Flynn was anything but an aversion.
Once her trust in him began to take root, it felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Aye, she had trusted Brennain, as well. The two Mac Greine brothers were very similar in both appearance and temperament, and she trusted both, which she found odd. But something about Flynn had always drawn her. She used to wish fervently to be in his presence, but once she was, she would freeze up and act like a frightened mouse. However, the past several days had taught her to speak freely around him and they shared meals, laughter, and stories of their past. He had had a very interesting life as the son of a Sister of Danu.
The Sisters of Danu were renown across the lands of both Alba and Ériu. Not only were they said to be reborn goddesses of the ancient people and have control over the elements, but they had helped King Tuathal defeat his enemy and take the throne.
Aye, Flynn’s mother had special skills to control nature and his father was once a king. It was intimidating for Maggie whose father had been an abusive, hateful man, and her mother had defended his actions while also being his victim. They came from two entirely different places in life and yet, she could talk to him easily without fear of judgement. He wanted to help her be a stronger woman, like his cousin Aislin, so she could defend herself. No man had ever taken the time to help her and she felt her heart fluttering wildly in her chest as his hand held onto her wrist, guiding her movements.
The storm from the night before had let up for a few hours, and Flynn decided it was ideal to train outside before the snow began to fall, as he suspected it would very soon.
“There you go, lass. Just like that.” His warm breath grazed her neck and a tingle of pleasure ran down her spine. By the gods, she could not concentrate when one of his hands rested on her hip and his thighs pressed against hers from behind. He was only trying to teach her proper form for knife throwing, she knew, but new and exciting energy flowed through his body and into hers.
She knew he found her bonny. She had seen his desire pressing against his trousers on more than one occasion and it did not frighten her as she suspected it would. He had never tried to push himself on her and as grateful as she was, she wished he would at least attempt a kiss. Mayhap he had no further interest in her. He was the most handsome man in their entire tuath and certainly had several bonny lassies to keep him warm at night. Why would he bother with an inexperienced, timid lass like her?
“Like this?” she whispered, flicking her wrist while she still held tightly to the dagger.
“Aye, just so,” he replied, stepping back and releasing her from his grip. Her body went cold from the loss of contact and disappointment consumed her. How could she want his touch so much, and what did that even mean? She was frightened of the violent act of love. Her father used to make her mama scream in pain. So what was it that Maggie’s body was crying out for? And why did she only hope to achieve it with this one man, and no other?
“You are ready, Maggie. Flick your wrist and aim for that tree trunk,” he pointed straight ahead to a towering oak just a few yards away. Most of its leaves rested around the base of its trunk in limp, soggy layers of reds, yellows, and browns. Indeed, winter was well on its way.
With a deep breath, she narrowed her eyes at her target, flicked her wrist and watched in wonder as Flynn’s dagger spiraled in the air… and landed with a thwack on the hardened forest floor. Not only had she missed the tree, she did not even stick it into the ground.
Her lip protruded with disappointment and she put her hands on her hips with a huff. She was rotten at this. Flynn would think her pathetic.
Flynn chuckled and bumped her gently with his hip, almost making her lose her balance. “’Tis all right, lass. Nay need to pout. It will come to you.” His thumb and forefinger came up quickly to yank playfully on her bottom lip, causing her eyes to go wide and she sucked it in. He laughed at her reaction and carefully bent over to grab his dagger.
“I am nay good at this,” she sighed.
“Not true. That was your first attempt. Here, let’s try this…” Flynn grabbed her hips with both his hands, and she was mesmerized by how easily his large fingers nearly wrapped around the entirety of her waist. He was truly large, and yet no fear whatsoever took hold of her. She smiled at that realization and he cocked his head in question, clearly wondering how she went from a frown to a smile so quickly. However, he did not ask and she did not say.
“Shift your left foot forward… like so,” he used his own foot to push hers outward. “Good. Now twist yer hips this way,” his hands maneuvered her body as if she was a cloth doll and she found she enjoyed it entirely. “Put this shoulder back… aye, like that!” Placing the dagger back into her right hand, he wrapped her fingers around the handle of the blade and aimed her arm for her. “That’s it. Try again.”
He stepped back once more and she did as he commanded, narrowing her eyes and sticking her tongue out to the side in concentration. After a few practice flicks of the wrist, she let it go and watched in slow motion as the blade flew. This time, it hit its mark, the sharp blade wedging itself into the bark of the oak tree.
“I did it!” She jumped into the air and clapped her hands, squealing with excitement. When she turned around to smile up at Flynn, Maggie almost gaped at the look on his face. A crooked, proud grin spread across his beautiful face, his dark beard now framing his jaw after several days without shaving. He looked feral and masculine, but his eyes twinkled with delight. He was a walking contradiction to all things she ever thought about men.
Their gazes locked for a brief moment and she felt the air between them shift. Something had changed about their relationship, though she could not say what, nor was she going to ask. Her body tingled with awareness as he stepped toward her slowly, his large arms crossed over his chest, biceps bulging beneath the fabric. “You are truly something, do you know that, my wee Maggie?”
Her eyes widened and she felt all the blood rushing to her cheeks. Had he just called her his Maggie? It should have frightened or upset her, but only anticipation flooded her veins. How she longed for him to lean down and give her a kiss. He stepped closer and her breath hitched in her chest but no words would escape her lips.
Flynn walked past her and yanked the dagger out of the oak’s large trunk. Disappointment made her frown. “Why are you frowning, lass? ‘Twas amazing what you just did. You are a quick learner. I will have you fighting as well as Aislin by the time my brother returns from his mission.”
“Do you ever wonder if he made it safely?” she asked. He barely spoke of the mission his brother was on or made mention of his concerns.
“Of course, I do. But I cannot do much for now and I have to believe he is just as capable as I am. Brennain is an incredibly well-trained warrior, hunter and tracker. If any man could do this, it’s him.”
She nodded and sighed, her shoulders going limp as she thought about their time together coming to an end. She had so many things she wished to say to him, but she knew it was best to keep her secrets. If she put her heart on the line for the first man she ever truly cared for, and he did not return her feelings, she would leave this hut more damaged than before.
“You look sad,” he whispered, and he came forward to tuck her loose blonde waves behind her ears. Her cloak whipped in a sudden gust of wind and he silently regarded her for a moment before speaking. “You care for my brother, don’t you, Maggie?”
Her brow creased as she looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You trusted him before you trusted me. You mention him frequently and he seemed to be very protective of you when he delivered you here. Are you awaiting his return so you two can… be together?”
His voice was soft and low, almost sad, and she started to wonder if he did, in fact, care for her, but held back for fear of frightening her or being rejected. “Flynn,” she grabbed his hand and squeezed, prodding him to look her in the eye. “I do trust Brennain. He earned my trust on the ride here that night, but I do not have feelings for him beyond companionship.”
Flynn seemed to perk up slightly at her words. Licking his lips, he hesitated to speak. “You took longer than a few hours to trust me. Why is that?”
How could she explain the truth without making herself appear to be a fool? “Mayhap I was more afraid of you, because you actually have the power to break me, Flynn.”
His eyes widened and he jerked away from her grip. “I have given you nay reason to fear me, Maggie. I am out here in the bloody cold trying to teach you survival skills so nay man can ever hurt you again! And you believe I would ‘break’ you?” he scoffed and spun away, clearly offended by her words. He stormed into the hut, leaving the door open behind him. She ran in after him, shutting the door to keep the heavy winds from filling the house with a chill.
Pacing back and forth in front of the fire, Flynn’s jaw clenched and he refused to look her in the eye. “Flynn?” He ignored her and continued to pace. She had to say something to make this right. Though she knew she could never have Flynn in the way she truly wanted, she would die of a broken heart if he despised her. Walking in front of him to block his path, she put her hands out to stop him, forcing him to look at her. “Please, Flynn. I did not mean it like that.”
Stopping directly in front of her, his huge body towering over her height, the firelight flickered over his features and she saw clearly that he was much sadder than he was angry. Her stomach bunched in knots, knowing she was about to say more to him than she had ever thought to.
“Then what do you mean when you say I can break you? Curse it, Maggie. I have done all I can to make you feel safe with me.”
“I do feel safe!” Maggie threw her arms up in the air, exasperated at her own lack of communication skills. She had never had to discuss her feelings with a man… she had never had feelings to discuss with a man. With a deep sigh, she gripped his forearms and squeezed, silently begging him to listen. “What I meant was… how can I say this?” She felt dizzy and hot as anxiety gripped at her. “You could break me, because of the way I feel about you,” she whispered, and hung her head low so he could not see the tears threatening to break through.
His finger went beneath her chin, urging her to look up. A tear escaped from her left eye and slid down her cheek. His brows crinkled as he wiped the tear away with his thumb. “How do you feel about me?”
“Must you make me say it?” she croaked, shaking her head. He would turn away from her. He would think her a silly lass for falling for him when all he meant to do was be kind while she cared for him. She had not taken his need to be kind as any other form of affection, but she had no control over the affection she had developed for him. Somehow, in such a short amount of time, he had begun to mean everything to her.
“I will not make you say or do anything you do not wish. You know that, Maggie.”
“Aye, I know that. ‘Tis what I love most about you. You are so calm and patient with me. You speak softly and make sure I always feel safe.”
“Maggie, I am a man. I sometimes shout and I sometimes fight. And sometimes, as you have seen, I am filled with lust. I am not different from most men in that regard. I simply would never force myself on a woman or hurt her. This does not make me a man worthy of you. It simply makes me a decent man. You have had the misfortune of being surrounded by bastards, who made you believe all men are vile. This is not true. But if you really knew me, you may be frightened by me.”
“You could not ever frighten me. I know that now.”
“Even if I were to become angry and shout,” he asked, stepping closer, but she refused to take a step back.
“Nay,” she shook her head.
“Even if I got into a fight with another man to defend your honor?” he questioned, taking one more step until his body was pressed against hers.
She shook her head, “Not even then.”
“And… if I were to kiss you?” he whispered, narrowing his eyes at her. “Would I frighten you then?”
Her breath left her body in a rush, her head spinning with the intensity of his words. “Nay. I would not fear your kiss,” she whispered, and licked her lips reflexively.
“But, would you welcome it?”
Had her heart ever pounded more wildly in her entire life? She wanted to kiss this man more than she wanted her next breath. “Aye, I would—”
His mouth came down on hers almost violently. A low growl escaped his throat as their lips came together in a mad rush. His hands gripped her hair and held her in place. A thrill unlike anything she ever imagined ran through her body and her arms wrapped around his neck, clinging for dear life as she reached as high as she could on her tiptoes.
His warm tongue swept across her lips and she opened for him, allowing him to teach her all he knew. When their tongues met in a fierce tangle, Maggie moaned at the pulse that grew in her core. How could his mouth illicit such a response from down below? He was not gentle and, though it surprised her to see this aggressive side of Flynn, she was much more surprised by her lack of fear. She trusted him with her entire heart.
“Does this shock you, Mags? That I have been so calm around you, and yet, I want you with such fierce need that I would devour you?”
His tongue slid down the column of her neck and she moaned again, her head spinning with desire. “Aye,” she whispered. “I thought you did not want me.” His tongue ran back up her neck and slipped into her mouth once more, before he pulled away and nibbled on her lower lip. “Oh, goodness,” she groaned. “My knees are weak.”
“I would lower you to the ground, Maggie, but that would be a very dangerous move. We are better up here,” he whispered while moving over to her earlobe, tugging on the flesh with his teeth. His warm breath grazed her neck, just as it had outside, and she felt her nipples harden beneath her dress. What was this reaction her body had to his touch? She had no idea what to think, do, or say. She only knew how to feel.
Slowly, he backed away, a fire burning in his green eyes that set her body aflame. “I am sorry. I should not have done that.”
She frowned. “But, I wanted you to.”
“Which makes this all the worse, Maggie. There is something between us, but it can never be anything more. As soon as Brennain returns, I will be taking you back home to your brother and I will be on my way.”
She knew his words were true. Still, they may well have been a bucket of freezing stream water being dumped on her overheated body. The sensations that had just been consuming her body now morphed into some torturous ache in her heart. He was like all men, after all. He wanted enough from her to sate his body, but would discard her as soon as he was done.
“You are right.” She squared her shoulders and raised a brow, hoping to hide her hurt with indignation. “This can never be.” She felt the cursed tears welling up in her eyes as her chin quivered. Flynn had been her first kiss, the first man she had ever trusted to touch her. And when he had, it was as if all the years of pain had melted away in his embrace. But all the hurt came flooding back, now tainted with a new pain. The pain of rejection, from the only man she had ever wanted. He was man enough to push her away before it went too far, at least. Still, mayhap she had wanted it to go a wee bit further. She still could not fathom the act itself, for it was violent and painful, but the soft caresses and kisses? She ached for more of them, but they were not to be.
Flynn ran a frustrated hand through his shaggy black hair and let out a puff of air. “Maggie… do not cry. Please. I am only trying to stop us both from becoming hurt in the end.”
“I am not crying. I shall never cry over a man, least of all you, Flynn Mac Greine! But if you think I shall ever favor you with a kiss again, you shall be disappointed. I have never allowed a man to kiss me before and I certainly will not do so again if it is simply to satisfy your base needs!” Her fists clenched into the fabric of her blue dress, the same blue dress she had been stuck with for over a sennight. She had washed it twice in the stream, but she was more than sick of looking at it, as well as the man standing before her now, even if her heart still beat just for him. She would bury those feelings so deep, even she would be unable to find them again. If caring for someone meant only more hurt in the end, she could not afford to care any longer.
“You know, you are mighty feisty when you are angry,” he commented with a wink. “I enjoy seeing this side of you.”
“Good, because ‘tis all you shall see of me until your handsome brother comes back to take me home.” Her words had the proper affect. Flynn’s face morphed from arrogance to jealousy before her eyes. She could not care. Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned her back to him and stormed toward the door.
“Where are you going, Maggie?” he shouted. She was correct. He was a man prone to all the emotions and behaviors of other men. Violence, anger, jealousy. He would never physically hurt her, she knew well, but he was more than able to hurt her heart. Inwardly, she was glad to finally have broken past the polite façade he had been straining to show her all these days. They finally could see each other for who they were. Let him shout at her or be angry. He was nothing to her, nor would he ever be.
“My thanks for your honesty, Flynn. I am most glad you made it clear where I stand in your life before things went any further.” She opened the door and stepped outside into the pouring rain. The sky had darkened considerably in the short span of time. Or had they kissed for much longer than she knew? Either way, she needed fresh air, even if that air was currently surrounded by large drops of rain. ‘Twas better than being stuck in this hut all night long, staring at the man who rejected her.
“I asked where you are going.” Flynn stormed toward her with menace in his eyes and without thinking, her hands flew up to protect her face from his strike. She shrieked and cowered, freezing in place as she awaited his blow.
Several moments passed before she peeked through the space between her upraised arms. He stood frozen before her with the saddest look in his eyes. His arms were at his side and she suddenly realized what she had done. She had sworn to trust him, and she did. Still, years of instinct had taught her to cower and cover when a man came at her with anger in his eyes or voice.
“Maggie…”
His imploring voice called to her, but she had to flee. Her stomach was in a knot. Her feelings for this man were growing out of control. Her past was haunting her, and she was certain she had just hurt him with her sudden need to protect herself. She could not have this man. He belonged to one person: his king. She could not very well have a future with a man who was gone all the time, nor was she capable of giving him what he truly needed in a woman. The act of love was no act of love at all, and she would never bear the pain or torture of it. She was uncertain how other woman ever did. Elwynna seemed to enjoy it very much, but she also had been used so much as a wee lass. Mayhap she had grown accustomed to the pain.
“I need to go, Flynn.” She slammed the door behind her and ran into the dark, wet night, feeling the muddy earth squish beneath her leather slippers and splash up her calves. She ran until her side ached and she could hardly breathe. Humiliation flooded her. She had received her first kiss in all her life and it was more than she could have ever hoped for. Flynn had made her entire body melt with just his hands on her hips and the way his tongue nipped at her ear and slid down her throat… for one short moment in time, he had made her question everything she had ever thought about men and lovemaking. Had he lowered her to the ground and taken her, she would have faced her fear of the pain and allowed him to do aught with her body. How could she have been so foolish?
Her initial instinct had been correct. He lusted for her, aye, but could offer her no more. Why should she suddenly care? She knew he could never be with her, but his use of her to simply slake a small bit of lust before pushing her away burned deep into her heart, causing an uncontrollable squeezing pain in her chest. She would have been better off not knowing how it felt to kiss Flynn Mac Greine.
What a pathetic lass she was to think a man like Flynn could ever want more from her. And yet, she had been all right with that. In that moment, she would have let him do anything, just to experience his touch. Her mind feared the act of love, yet her body ached for it. It was the most distressing moment of her life to finally feel as if she could give herself to a man, only to be pushed away. The only thing she could think to do to hide her shame was to run. The night seemed to mourn for her, shedding its cold tears to mingle with her own.
A sob wrenched from her throat and her eyes grew blurry through her continuous stream of tears. It was like a lifetime of pent-up turmoil released all at once, making her forget all sense of herself. Was this the pain her own mama felt every time she begged for affection from her papa? Maggie would never let a man ill-use her as her papa had her mama, but suddenly, she could understand the pain of caring for a man who could not care for her in return, a man bound to his king and the land, a man who could have any lass he wanted. Why would he choose her, pathetic wee lass that she was with her crippling fears, small breasts, and childlike curves, when he could have a real woman who willingly enjoyed the act of coupling? Och, she was a cursed fool.
Through the haze of her misery, Maggie heard the sounds of rushing water up ahead, and she realized she had been running full-speed toward the surging stream. On most days, it was a calm, peacefully flowing body of water and her most favorite place to gather her thoughts. Her mind and body must have instinctively sought out its solace in her pain and anger. However, what she saw ahead was nothing like the peaceful stream she often sought out. The stream overflowed from the relentless rain and churned violently as if angered by the storm destroying its peace. Land and water merged, turning the shore into sludge. Maggie gasped as she slid to a stop, feeling the earth shift beneath her feet, then screamed in horror as she felt her feet give way and her body propel toward the angry stream. Before she could catch her balance, she toppled head first into the rushing water.
She sputtered and gasped as water flooded her lungs. Her dress felt as if it was caught on something, and panic consumed her cold limbs as she flailed her arms, seeking anything to grasp. “Help!” she shouted, knowing nobody was around to hear her, but she shouted anyway and desperately tried to yank at whatever her skirt was caught on. More water rushed into her mouth and she coughed frantically. She wailed in terror. She was going to die out here all alone. She would never see her brother or Elwynna again. She would never see Flynn again. His beautiful green eyes, his flowing black hair and perfect smile. His strong jaw or the way his voice rumbled when he laughed. The way his mouth had felt on hers and how she suddenly realized she longed for so much more from Flynn Mac Greine than she had allowed herself to believe. Now, as the stream threatened to pull her into a dark, watery grave, she gasped for air at the exact moment that the truth struck, like the very lightning still streaking across the sky.
She was in love with Flynn. It had been hopeless from the start. They never stood a chance. She was a broken woman and he was a traveling warrior. He was as brave as she was damaged and yet, he had gone out of his way to make her feel safe and protected. He had kept his vow to teach her self-protection… if only she had ever learned to swim. She would die, but she would die with the knowledge she had accomplished one thing in life she never thought possible. She had learned how to love a man, even if he did not love her in return.
Her limbs stopped flailing as numbness consumed them. The stream felt like an icy vise gripping her body, squeezing the air from her lungs. Her dress insisted on dragging her down and she suddenly had no more strength to fight it. Perhaps this was how she was always meant to leave this earth. She had lived in fear, and now she would die just as a calming peace came over her mind. The roaring stream tried to pull her away, but whatever her dress was caught on, kept her anchored in place as her lungs filled with more water each time her head went under. She stopped fighting. There was no need. She would die. Saying a silent prayer for her brother and Elwynna, she also prayed to the gods that Flynn would someday find love with the right woman. If she must leave this world, she would leave it with prayers of love and peace, not thoughts of anger or fear. Mayhap when she crossed into the Otherworld, she would see her mama once more. That thought almost made her smile as the water dragged her down once more and darkness started to take hold.
Something wrapped around her floating forearm so tightly that she winced at the pain, but she could not see beyond the dark and the rain pelting her face. Her body was lifted and dragged to shore. Sputtering, she rolled to her side and let out a series of violent coughs, feeling water leave her body as air filled her lungs. Forcing her eyes open, she saw Flynn, completely soaked through, towering over her as rain matted his dark locks to his face. He looked almost like a feral beast in this darkness, with glowing green eyes boring into hers. Though her head spun and her lungs burned with the simultaneous release of water and intake of air, her heart squeezed at the sight of him. She never thought to see his face again. He had saved her.
Without a word, Flynn bent over and scooped her into his arms, while her own arms wrapped around his neck for support. Up close, she could see that he clenched his jaw and she knew he was in pain. Her throat was raw and sore from shouting, but she managed to croak out a warning to him. “Flynn… your wound.” He did not respond, only tightened his grip on her soaking, frozen body as he took slow, calculated steps back toward the hut. He dodged large puddles, but there was no hope for missing the mud.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she realized how close to death she had truly been. Had Flynn not come to find her, she would surely have been swept away by now, breathed her last breath, and never been found again. The thought sent icy chills down her spine and she instinctively nestled closer to Flynn’s body, though he was also cold to the touch.
Kicking the slightly ajar door open with his large, muddy boot, Flynn walked into the house and unceremoniously plopped her onto a pile of furs near the hearth. He held his aching side and grimaced, refusing to look her in the eye.
“My thanks, Flynn,” she murmured, but he showed no sign whatsoever of hearing her. Walking away from her, he yanked his soaked tunic over his head, tossing it to the floor with a soggy thump. Even from across the room, she saw that his stitches had ripped open in a few places and she gasped. After several days, the wound had scabbed over and thankfully only small amounts of blood trickled through. She had stopped binding him just a few days ago because it was healing so well.
“Flynn! Your wound!” Scrambling to her feet, she felt heavy and waterlogged with her dress and nightgown clinging to her cold skin. Her cold limbs made her clumsy and weak, causing her to flop back onto the floor on her hands and knees. Her chest labored to breath and her skin tingled as warmth slowly came back to her. Mud covered the bottom of her dress, but that was the least of her worries. Sitting back down on the furs near the hearth, she crossed her arms to stave off the chill. “You should not have carried me.”
“You should not have run off!” he barked back, making her jump in surprise. His jaw ticked and she could see true rage in his eyes.
“Well… you should not have shouted at me!” she shot back, clenching her fists. Though her body was frozen, she shook with rage as her blood boiled. How dare he blame her for what had happened after he kissed her with such passion, licking her neck and shoving his tongue down her throat, only to then step back and throw rejection in her face. Her body heated just thinking of it.
“You should not have intentionally made me jealous by calling my brother handsome!”
“Jealous? I did not know you were capable of feeling jealousy over me! You are the one who told me we can never be!”
“You agreed!” he shouted back at her, stepping closer and holding his wound. His bare chest gleamed in the firelight and his wet trousers clung to his large legs… and his male parts, she noticed with wide-eyed perusal and a wildly beating heart.
“I agreed because ‘tis the truth. We shall never be anything to one another. I am incapable of having a physical relationship with a man!” she hollered, flushing immediately after having admitted her darkest secret. “’Tis a vile, hateful act and nay man shall ever touch me!”
He stopped in his tracks and stared down at her, all the tension visibly draining from his body. Shame and embarrassment washed over her. She knew her feelings were not the same as most lassies, still she had seen it forced enough on a woman to know how dreadful it was.
“Has a man forced you before?” His tone was calm, yet frightening. “Tell me who and I will run him through with my blade, I vow it.”
She shook her head and swallowed hard. Her hair clung to her face and she peeled the offending locks away from her cold neck. “Nay. Not me. My mother, my sister, and Elwynna. I have heard enough… seen enough, to know.” His face visibly paled and he propped himself against the bed post for support.
His wound. She needed to repair the stitches. Her wet dress was leaving a trail of water on the hard-packed earthen floor of the hut and would eventually cause the floor to become soggy. Her skirts stuck to her skin as she walked over to her satchel and rummaged for a clean bone needle and some thread.
“Sit,” she instructed Flynn as she approached him. He plopped down on a wooden bench, his wet trousers making a sloshing noise when he positioned himself. “’Twill hurt,” she murmured, and she expertly threaded the needle and poked him in his side.
“Ouch!” he hollered, but she did not break eye contact with her work.
“I warned you ‘twould hurt. Thanks for saving my life, Flynn,” she whispered, and she drew the needle through his skin and tugged the thread tightly.
“I would never allow harm to befall you, Maggie,” he said with sincerity, and she knew he meant it. Still, she knew he could harm her, for he already had. Some wounds were not visible, but they ran deep and would likely never heal. In her heart, she knew Flynn had saved her from the pain of broken promises and wishful dreams by ending… whatever it was between them, before it even started. Still, her heart ached so painfully that she had to resist the urge to rub at her chest.
“My father used to force himself on my mama in front of me,” she confessed as she bit off the last stitch and sighed. “She would scream in pain, cry, and sometimes bleed. But she always said it was a man’s right to take what he wanted, when he wanted, from his wife. ‘Tis when I vowed to never become a wife. I cannot bear such pain, even to please a man.”
She stood back up and walked over, placing the used needle on the table to be boiled later. She had shared her shame with Flynn. He now knew her darkest secret, knew why she was so broken that no man would ever want her.
“Maggie. A man who forces a woman is a beast. Making love should be pleasurable, natural, and mutual. ‘Tis a most beautiful thing when a man and a woman come together willingly. I am sorry your mother suffered so, but she was wrong. ‘Tis not a man’s right to take a woman until she is in pain.” He shook his head and stood from the bench.
“You know much of making love?” She knew he must and yet, it brought her close to tears to think of him sharing these same feelings for another lass.
“Nay. I know of bedding a lass, aye. Making love? Nay.”
She looked over at him and thought on his words. Had he never loved a woman? Did he know that Maggie already loved him? If his words were true, a man and a woman could find pleasure if they cared for one another. Though she had denied such ideas her entire life, she knew some lassies who did enjoy it. Aislin seemed to be more than satisfied with her husband, as was Elwynna. The thought intrigued her.
“Have…” her voice trailed off and she flushed at the words that were so close to escaping her lips. It was a private thing to ask and she bit her lower lip to prevent herself from asking the question. Mayhap she was better off not knowing his answer.
“Have… what, Maggie? You can ask me anything you want. I swear to be truthful with you. It pains me to see you scared of something that can be so beautiful.”
He stepped closer and she wanted to step back, but resisted the urge. “Have the lassies that you bedded found… pleasure? You did not hurt them?” Flynn coughed abruptly at her question and held his newly stitched side to prevent any strain. “I am sorry. I should not ask such questions. I am only curious.”
“I believe that they have been most satisfied, aye. I have received nay complaints.” His cheeks flushed for the first time ever in her presence, and she shivered in her wet gown.
“You are soaked to the bone, Mags. You must get warm. You will catch a chill if you sit in these wet garments.”
“’Tis all I have. You know this.” She shivered again and turned to the fire, rubbing her hands furiously near the flames.
“You must take them off,” he insisted.
“I cannot!” Maggie groused. “I will not!”
“Mags… be reasonable. We have furs. You can wrap yourself in a woolen blanket and furs. You shall be covered.”
“What about you? Your trousers are soaked. And that cursed string is now most assuredly tangled again.”
“I can leave them on,” he said simply, and she knew then that he would rather suffer in silence than make her uncomfortable.
With a deep sigh, she realized she had to be brave and reasonable. “Nay, you just recovered from a chill. You must get warm.”
“As must you,” he responded stubbornly. “I shall not if you will not.”
She narrowed her eyes and huffed. “Fine. All right. Turn around and I shall remove my garments.”
Flynn did as she asked, turning his back and walking away, leaving her to struggle with her clothing. Not only were they sopping wet and muddy, they clung to her stubbornly. Maggie gathered her skirts in her hands, raised them over her hips, and lifted her arms, tugging with all her might. Her underdress was somehow twisted and tangled with her blue dress, and neither would come over her shoulders. With a grunt, she pulled with all her strength and let out a growl of frustration when the cursed fabric refused to release her from their binds.
She heard Flynn growl from behind her, and turned to see what had him so flustered, though she could hardly see with her arms stuck up in the air and the fabric of two dresses now bunched across her breasts, refusing to be removed.
Flynn’s head was down and his trousers had slackened just enough that she could see the upper half of his tight backside. His hips tapered and his rear was muscled perfection. She had not meant to stare, but she had also not expected to find him growling with his pants half down his hips.
Turning back around swiftly before he caught her staring, she dropped her skirts in exasperation, feeling the cold cloth wrap around her body once more. Her arms had grown tired form holding them up and tugging so hard.
Like it or not, if she was going to get out of these clothes, she needed help. He was much taller and stronger. He could yank the clothing over her head easily. “Flynn… I need help.” She swallowed hard when the words were said, regretting having to say them. “I am stuck. I cannot remove my garments.”
Flynn turned to her, holding his loose trousers up with one hand, as his other rested on his hip. “My cursed string is stuck. I cannot loosen them enough to get them down my blasted arse!”
Something bubbled up inside Maggie that she had not felt in such a long time. Laughter. Doubling over, she let out a giggle that morphed into booming laughter, holding her sides as she looked at Flynn’s confused face. Tears ran down her cheeks and she wiped them away before she stood back up and walked toward him. “We are a mess.” She laughed again and looked down at his hand holding his trousers up.
“I am pleased you find it so humorous,” he murmured, but a playful smirk spread across his face and her heart dropped into her stomach. Gods, he was perfect. “What now?”
Straightening her features, she shrugged and chewed her bottom lip. “I think I will require your help,” she said shyly. His brows rose and she knew he was suddenly imagining her naked. “You will, of course, close your eyes the entire time,” she amended.
“Of course,” he said with forced effrontery. “Lift your arms.”
“Close your eyes,” Maggie reminded him.
He bent down and grabbed at the bottom hem of both her dresses. “Of course. Trust me.” And she did. Raising her arms, she watched as Flynn closed his eyes and stood up slowly, gathering the fabric in both hands. Her bare skin instantly warmed from the hearth fire and it felt slightly freeing, and entirely forbidden, for her nether parts to be exposed to the heat of the room while Flynn stood directly in front of her. If he opened his eyes and looked down, he would see parts of her no man had ever seen. Something about that thought made her tingle at her core, just as his kisses had.
With a swift and hard tug, the wet garments pulled over her breasts and head, slowly peeling away from her shoulders and arms. One more tug and she was freed of the cold, wet material… and completely exposed. “Do not open your eyes yet!” she squealed, and she ran in a frantic circle looking for a blanket to wrap around her body. Pulling one off Flynn’s bed, she quickly wrapped it around herself and sighed in relief at its warmth. Flynn’s natural scent was all over the blanket and now wrapped around her body like a cocoon of protection. She suddenly felt calm and safe. “All right. I am covered.”
Flynn opened his eyes and regarded her carefully. She shivered when his gaze roamed up and down her body, pausing at the long, exposed length of her calves and thighs. Heat flushed her body and that familiar ache between her legs grew more intense than ever. She was covered in naught but a woolen blanket and he was holding his trousers up with one hand. It felt so intimate and forbidden for them to be so nearly undressed before one another, but she found she only wished to be closer to him.
The fire crackled in the otherwise silent room. Her mind kept turning over their conversation about making love. She knew he did not love her, but she was more certain than ever she loved him. Would allowing him to show her how a man loved a woman save her from her self-imposed nightmare? She had two choices before her. She could follow her body and heart’s guidance and seek out the truth that lay between her and Flynn, discover if he was the man to teach her more about life than she ever thought possible. Or, she could swallow these emotions, hide them away, and walk away from him and any chance at knowing what could exist between a man and a woman forever.
She knew for certain no man would ever replace Flynn in her heart. It felt so sudden, but spending every day and night in his presence had turned out to be exactly what her heart had needed all along. This was the adventure she had begged for in her life. Was there happiness at the end of this journey? Nay. She knew he still had a role to play that would keep him from ever settling down with a family. She was also still not certain she ever wanted to be a wife or have children, and even if she did, Flynn had made no mention of having any feelings for her beyond his lust. And yet… mayhap, for now, in this moment, lust was enough to repair a little of the damage Maggie had been living with for far too long.
His green eyes continued to stare at her with more emotions than she could recognize. He did not speak, nor did he move, but he stood frozen in his place, seeming to memorize every detail of her.
Clutching the blanket around her chest, she slowly stepped closer to Flynn. His pupils dilated little by little with every step she took. Her free hand shook as she stood before Flynn, placing her hand on top of his. “Do you still need help?” she whispered, taking his trouser string in her hand. He nodded slightly and swallowed, and Maggie knew he sensed the new energy that sparked between them. The air had shifted, somewhere between her laughing at their ruined garments and him yanking her dress over her head.
Nothing was funny about the ache she felt to be touched by Flynn. Her hands fumbled with his ties for a moment before she finally made progress on the knot. They slackened further, just enough for him to be able to remove them if he chose.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, and stared down at her. “’Tis your turn to turn away while I change.”
Nodding, she turned hesitantly, but did not back away from him. Her mind was reeling. She should walk away. Nothing but heartache and rejection could possibly follow. And yet, before her now stood a man who was unlike any other. He was strong, yet gentle. Loyal, kind, caring, protective, and without a doubt, the only man who had ever made her feel as if her heart would beat out of her chest. She may regret this decision later, but the pull she felt toward him was too strong to deny. She needed, for the first time in her life, to face her fears and she knew he was the one she wanted to face them with.
She heard his trousers being stripped away behind her. She knew Flynn was bared. “Flynn?” she questioned, keeping her back turned and feeling those flutters in her belly again.
“Aye?”
“I was wondering. What would you say if I asked you to… make love to me?”