Chapter Two
“If I’d known all I needed to do was open the door and you’d fall into my arms, I’d have returned long ago.”
The man’s teasing words caught Maeve by surprise, but his too-familiar grip on her didn’t. She’d not missed his body’s reaction, nor the way he’d shrugged off her knee connecting with his delicate male groin. She scurried off him, her skirts a tangle of fabric that made it difficult and her actions feeble and awkward. Dizzy and unsure, she battled to gain control of her frantic heartbeat.
“Here.” He rose in one graceful lunge, pulling her with him. His grip was careful, his hand warm but rough with callouses. As soon as he had her on her feet he caressed her hand and grinned at her. She was certain such an expression was meant to melt even the most reluctant of females, but her insides grew cold. “There now, no need to hurry off, sweet.”
She pulled her hand, trying to break free as panic built in her throat, stopping her cry for help.
Where is Brennan? Evie? She managed to free one hand, only to have him snatch her other with a playful grin. He brought it to his lips with another heart-stopping grin. The softness and warmth of his lips shocked her into freezing again.
“Don’t be shy. I promise I’m as gentle as a lamb.”
The words were at such odds to the size of him, she couldn’t tear her gaze away. For the first time, she looked at him, really, truly saw him. Her heart skittered like when she’d worn socks on the icy pond behind their home as a child.
He was gorgeous. Even in the dim light from the common room’s banked hearth, she could see that immediately. His chiseled features were even, roughened by his life, she assumed, but no less pleasing. More so she thought as she let her gaze roam over the pleasing contours. His eyes were wide set, large and framed with dark lashes under shaggy brows. Even his lips were attractive, the bottom one ever so slightly fuller. His dark eyebrows lent a roguish cast, almost as if he possessed a secret about her no one else knew. The rough, dark bristle on his face merely accentuated the manliness of him. This was a man who was more than ready to prove how capable he was of making her scream in pleasure.
If the gods hadn’t given him enough with a face that made her heart tremble, they had also bestowed upon him broad shoulders, and a wide, hard chest she knew from falling on him was all muscle. His biceps expanded and drew the eye, especially when he lifted his arms and crossed them over his chest. The position highlighted his trim waist and the bulge visible under his tight leather breeches.
Back to his face, she felt numb and prickly, as if every nerve was wide awake. The sensations were disconcerting, but didn’t stop her from scanning him for some defect. There were none. Even his cocked brow and wide grin were perfect, signaling that he knew how good he looked and appreciated that she’d taken the time to notice.
Shocked at the realization, and her behavior, she tried to back up with what she hoped was a pleasant but not welcoming smile. He stopped her before she’d taken two steps with a grip on her upper arm that was gentle but firm. She felt the heat of his hand as if he’d touched her bare flesh in other, more secret areas.
“Now, here, let me see if you suffered any harm.” His tone was low and intimate.
She immediately cowered from him, breaking contact to put a chair between them. At his wolfish grin, she decided the table was a better choice, especially when he merely tossed the heavy chair aside in his advance. He laughed, a beautiful sound that sent a confusing tingle down her body. A small part of her felt on fire, while the other part shivered in cold dread. Her reactions were as startling as his. Who is this man?
“Ah, now, don’t make it hard. I love a chase, you see. It makes it worth the wait, but right now, I would like something much…softer. I’m already hard enough, sweet.”
At the reference to his groin, a shiver raced along her skull, down her breasts and zipped to her inner thighs. It didn’t stop but lingered, heating her core as if he had some magical power to turn her into the sexual being every man fantasized about.
She raced for the safety of the larger, central table. He almost caught her. He laughed again when he missed. With the table between them, he dodged to the right as she moved left, then left when she went right. Her heart did an odd bumpity-bump.
Before she could decide what to do, he picked up the table and heaved it completely aside. She doubted that particular piece of furniture had ever been moved. There were cleaner squares where the legs of it had stood.
His strength was stunning. As was his attention.
For one brief second, she imaged what it would be like to let him catch her. To have him. To know him intimately the way only a woman knew a man. The image her mind came up with was murky, but the idea sent a shiver down her spine. Never before had she thought of letting a man have her, or of having one for herself.
Until now. The knowledge scared her into action. She spun for the door, thrusting a chair in his path, but only getting another wicked laugh as he leapt over it. He landed perfectly on his feet. Breathless she scooted to the side, not daring to turn her back on him.
“Now, sweet, is that nice?” He cut her off easily enough that she knew he’d been playing with her before. He was laughing, appearing so pleased with himself she couldn’t react.
Turning with her, he cushioned her back with his arm as he pushed her gently, but firmly up against a wall. His breathing deepened, and his gaze pinned on her lips, then her bosom and back to her lips then eyes. She couldn’t help but notice how soft and plump his lips were or how perfect they appeared.
Without saying a word, he firmly rested his thigh between her legs. She was lifted and her hands gently stretched over her head. He did it so slowly, she had plenty of time to stop him, but she couldn’t. Scared, but not terrified, she waited, unsure how she felt. I should be scared. I should be running. Instead she felt…excited. Who is this man?
Surprising her even more, he simply stared at her then rested his forehead on hers, staring deep into her eyes. She let him. Something clicked into place, startling her at the rightness of his body along hers. Stunned, she couldn’t process all that was happening. She was straddling his thigh. The position pressed his leg tight to her intimately. It felt like all her life she’d never known, never understood, what it was that made women want a man.
Now she knew.
It was…this.
Sensations trickled up her body from where his warm thigh rested against her. It was shocking. She bit her lip, otherwise she might have moaned aloud. Her inner muscles tightened, and for the first time a wave of pleasure erupted deep, deep inside. He shifted and the effect grew. His heat, his scent—leather, horses and sweat should have been distasteful, but she wanted to tuck her nose to his neck and breathe him in.
He pushed forward a fraction, but the wave of excitement blossomed higher. Even her fingers tingled. She bit her lip to hold in a moan she was certain she shouldn’t make.
As if he knew anyway, he growled low in his throat. The sound vibrated between them. It did incredible things to her body. Her face heated but even though she fought embarrassment, the pleasure grew. He shifted his thigh, clearing knowing what he was doing because the tingles grew. The fear he must be able to feel how hot and damp he was making her couldn’t douse the growing thrill of having him so close. Maybe nothing will. Maybe I will climax. What will it feel like, to feel this, with him, deeply possessing me? Filling me?
The thought didn’t scare her as much as it should have. Instead she waited, wondering what he would do next.
He didn’t speak. He gazed into her eyes, not moving, not rubbing up against her the way she suddenly hoped. Instead he studied her face, as if he sought something. Whatever it was, she must not have given it because his frown pulled his amazing lips into a pout. He smelled like wilderness mixed with a hint of leather, horses and the pine trees from her childhood.
“What I’d give to know what you’re thinking, sweet.” If she could have answered, he robbed the ability as he clenched his thigh. The thick muscles pushed against her, making her trembles grow. He did it again. Her hips arched on their own, seeking more friction. No one had ever done this before. Men never did this, they tried—
“Maeve? ‘Aeve?”
Head touching hers, she didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed or how his hands tightened on hers. Fear suddenly overcame the pleasure. I can’t do this! I can’t allow this! He’ll hurt me. She could feel the size of him, had seen the bulge, felt the hard evidence against her stomach when she’d landed on him.
“I hope that’s not your lover, sweet.” At his shocking words, he forced his thigh tighter between her legs, which placed his erection firmly to her clit. Delicious stimulation rushed to her toes and back again. It must have felt as wonderful for him as well. The world disappeared. He groaned and caught her answering moan with a kiss.
Lights shimmered behind her closed eyes and for one long, intense moment she hung there, helpless as his warm, fast breath mingled with hers. Gone was the fear and uncertainty. It evaporated like mist under the hot sun. His hard body heated hers, making her shiver uncontrollably with need. She burned. In places she’d always touched alone, away from anyone that might hear her, she felt a rising pleasure. A sigh escaped her lips as it spiraled into tighter circles.
A hungry growl rumbled from him, then he surged against her, rolling his erection perfectly along her mound. A more urgent sound escaped her. As if in response, he became more aggressive, driving his tongue along hers as he meshed their bodies with wilder abandon.
The world resurfaced with startling clarity, dissolving the impending climax. Fear swamped her. She pushed against his firm chest, trying to get away. Her hands slid along his muscles uselessly. He stopped her, forcing her to stay for his kiss with a harsh grip on her bottom and hair. Both hurt. He frightened her. His mouth took hers with bruising intensity. She broke away, gasping for air.
“Yes, feel it.” He began to grunt in deeper satisfaction as he thrust. The sound was dark and dangerous. She knew what would be next.
He thrust a hand down between them.
She blinked, staring blindly at the deserted common room beyond his shoulder. He would tear his breeches off, force her, make her take him—No!
She pushed on his chest and bit his lip as hard as she could, tasting blood. He gave a startled bellow and fell back, hand to his mouth, eyes narrowed. The sound of boots approaching had her straightening her gown and brushing the back of her hand against her lips to wipe off the blood.
Brennon rushed in, his sword in his hand. Two of the men she’d met earlier at his back. It felt like a lifetime ago she’d spoken with them. Evie entered after, much slower but with an unreadable expression. None of them mattered. Only the man facing her mattered. What will he do now? Hurt me? Hurt them as he tries to reach me?
She tried not to show how frightened she was, tried to keep the tears back, to hold herself as quietly as she could. Fear only multiplied the effect. Tears made it hundreds of times worse.
“Narc, what the—?”
“This is your last man?” Brennan demanded, catching her painfully by the elbow in his distress. He scanned her face too quickly for her to signal she wasn’t hurt. “I knew we shouldn’t trust Spartans,” he muttered to Evie more than her.
Evie’s brow furrowed but she didn’t respond.
“She bit me!”
Brennan released her immediately, turning from her to bring his sword up, ready to attack. She caught at his tunic. He couldn’t fight in here. Evie didn’t allow it. But no matter how she tugged, he ignored her.
The man, Narc—she sounded out his odd name in her mind—didn’t seem to care. He’d drawn his weapon with an expertise that frightened her. Now he would attack Brennan, he would force her down, he would… She caught her breath, realizing that he hadn’t moved. He kept his sword up, ready…but didn’t attack.
She tugged more urgently on Brennan’s free arm. He finally glanced down, his gaze lingering on her lips before he swept them down her body and back to her face. She shook her head, willing him to stop, willing him to understand that she’d not been hurt that way. If this man didn’t attack, if he was in control. Brennan didn’t have to fight.
“Enough.” Evie stepped between the two men. “Put your swords away. Narc, I see you have met Maeve.”
Brennan sheathed his sword but still stood slightly in front of her. Evie glanced at her in question. Maeve shook her head. Evie’s all too knowing gaze focused on her lips before giving Narc her attention. He hadn’t moved. He hadn’t rushed her, or tried to kill Brennan. He simply stood, facing Brennan, his gaze skimming her every few seconds. She held her breath, not certain what that meant.
“Now that we are calmed down—”
Brennan beat Evie to whatever she’d been going to say with a slash of his hand, cutting her off rudely by shouting, “You shouldn’t have kissed her. She didn’t want you to!”
Narc stood taller, his arrogant grin wider than ever. She felt her face heat at the arrogance. “She wanted that and a whole lot more.”
Her stomach dropped to her toes. Anger, something she rarely allowed herself to feel, burned through her embarrassment. I didn’t know what I wanted. How can he know?
“Then why did she bite you?” Evie reached out and pressed Narc’s sword down with a casual hand on the blade.
Maeve watched him for his answer. His hair had come slightly undone from the tight confines and curled in his eyes. The long strands caught in his thick lashes as he narrowed his eyes at her, then as calmly as one would discuss the weather he uttered one word, “Foreplay.”
She balled her fists, anger again making her lightheaded. The horrid man! The first man I find attractive, I feel something for and he’s…he’s…horrid.
“Narc,” Ajax muttered, gripping him on the shoulder.
Narc knocked his hand off. “She didn’t say a word to stop me—”
“She can’t speak, asshole,” the other man, Darren, she thought, or his brother, Garret, grumbled. The two were hard to tell apart, except for their minds. Their minds were worlds apart.
Her face heated with shame at their discussion. It doused the anger completely. She swallowed and ducked her head, pushing her hair back to try and gain her balance. He kissed me. But he doesn’t seem to want me.
Narc growled something low and unclear to her. Ajax stared at him until Narc threw his hands up. In a low voice he muttered, “I know when a woman wants it. She wanted it.”
She had wanted him to kiss her. I wanted a climax… He’d wanted… She trembled. Of course he’d wanted more. I don’t even have to speak. I know that.
“If you hadn’t barged in, we’d have been enjoying a hell of a lot more.”
“You bastard!” With an animal-like sound Brennan rushed Narc. She feared for Brennan but after only a few seconds, the two were dragged apart. Darren held Narc back with a hand on his chest while Ajax held on shoulder, Alrick the other. Her brother bowed his head to Evie’s firm glance and shook Garret off.
“She can’t talk. How can she tell you she did or didn’t want you?” Evie asked, her voice calm, cool, even.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded in a harsh tone. “She can speak. I saw her talking to someone earlier!”
“She can’t speak, Stephano!” Ajax shout seemed to register. Everyone grew silent. Stephano? She blinked at Ajax, but Narc—Stephano—listened the other man. At least he didn’t shrug him off again. “I don’t know what you saw, but she can’t talk. When will you consider anyone other than yourself? Fuck. I swear, you never think!”
She stepped forward, away from her brother, and shook her head. All eyes focused on her, but she couldn’t let Stephano take the blame. With trembling legs, she walked over to him and held out her hand.
He didn’t move. His narrowed eyes were like chips of icy anger. She motioned to her throat, then her mouth and shook her head again, trying to relay that she couldn’t talk, which was truthful, at least not in front of strangers, anyway. She raised her hand again, waiting for him to take it. He exhaled and not taking his eyes from her face, he lifted his hand slowly.
She took it, trying to ignore how warm and rough his hand felt under her fingers. Have I ever noticed anyone else the way I do him? With a gentle pull, he let her bring him to the hearth where she motioned for him to sit. Still fuming, he made her wait until with an angry snort, he hooked a chair closer and sat.
Around them, the men began to speak, as if with the two of them clearly over their encounter, they could return to their plans. Brennan still sounded worried, but she could hear his clear authority, his crisp replies to the men’s endless questions.
She bent to the hearth and lifted the kettle, poured warm water into a bowl and used one of the clean towels drying there to dip into it. Does he know the significance of cleaning a man? She peeked at him and knew he did not. But Brennan did and one glance showed him studying her as much as the men he was speaking with. Nervous, but knowing Evie and Brennan would keep the men busy, she faced the last member of the team.
He hadn’t moved, but his gaze glided over her face, then down to her hands, and up again. She took that as permission. Her legs still felt unsteady, but she reached out to his chin where a trace of blood remained.
He jerked his head back, but when she waited, he finally crossed his arms and nodded curtly, giving her permission to continue. She kept her expression impassive even though she wanted to smile as he allowed her to clean his face. She hadn’t bitten his lip hard, but there was a small cut there that she soothed with the cloth. Did I give him my kiss, or did he take it? It was difficult to decide. There’d been a moment when she’d wanted nothing more than to kiss him.
“You can’t speak?”
How to answer? She could but couldn’t. Already she could feel the heat of him beginning to catch fire again. One glance at his lap and her face heated. The tight leather hid nothing of his condition. He would remain thusly until she eased him. Knowing what she had to do, she still winced. Why do I want him to be different? There may never be a man for her, and surely this one wasn’t. She resolved herself to what she must do, then met his eyes, revealing herself to him bit by bit with a tune she hummed for him alone.
His eyes glazed over, becoming heated with desire. In his mind now, she saw what he wanted. It was intense, as explicit as the other men’s lust, but with him, much, much more passionate. She gave him a taste of one fantasy, felt the tremor in his muscles then the dream climax took hold and in his fantasy, he gloried in his pleasure. It was more intimate than any other man she’d ever touched. Her hands trembled. Hastily stepping away, she folded the cloth and returned it to the drying rack, careful not to look at him.
He would wake from this thinking her a pretty girl and nothing more. He wouldn’t remember this moment or the climax he’d experienced. Because she could, she erased all evidence. She would be no more than a companion now, nothing special, nothing enticing and certainly nothing to corner and hurt until he’d sated himself.
“That’s all set then,” Evie announced, walking up to her. “You leave in the morning. Are you certain this is what you wish?”
Maeve’s gaze sought Brennan’s. He knew what he was doing, what they were doing. At least he thought so. He was in deep conversation with Alrick and Ajax, his head bent, his broad shoulders loose and markedly relaxed from the constant strain of protecting her. Of course, now he had a veritable platoon of men to help him. And freedom within his reach. I want to give him this. The thought made her throat ache.
She faced Evie, knowing what was expected of her.
Evie caught her hand. “If you change your mind, you are always welcome here, Maeve. Always.”
Touched, even though her time here had been forced on her by circumstances, she smiled at the other woman. Evie had protected her. Within her walls no one could touch her. Perhaps she could return here, take up her role and with her gold, hire a body guard. Her brother could be free, and she could be…here. Alone in our home.