Page 34 of Dawn Of Desire

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Oriana watched as his lips widened into a charming grin and doubted he had ever met anyone else who would not gladly bow to his wishes. She still fought to warn him. “What’s needed here is cunning rather than your bold strength or boundless charm.”

“Cunning,” Egan repeated. He rolled the word around in his mind and swiftly rejected any need for subterfuge. “I am the rightful king, Oriana. Conjecture about your possible origins is merely tantalizing gossip. We’ll pay it no heed.”

Oriana had spent too many years hiding her identity to casually dismiss questions about her background. By coming there she felt as though she had stumbled into a deadly maze fraught with challenges, while, as usual, Egan insisted upon standing atop a wall of confidence to survey a sun-drenched kingdom. Unfortunately such an arrogant attitude would offer scant protection if her arrival continued to create chaos.

Guilt-ridden, she offered a truce. “The night has already been too long. Can’t we continue this argument on the morrow when you return from your hunt?”

She sounded as though her suggestion were a perfectly sensible one, but Egan refused to be so easily distracted. “No, not when the issue is where you’ll sleep tonight.”

Oriana continued to regard him with a level gaze. “Well, when you put it that way, I suppose not.”

It seemed they were at an impasse. With barely concealed longing, her glance wandered down Egan’s impressively muscled frame. Last night Lugh had yanked her from his arms before he could become her lover. Would Lugh grab her so quickly tonight? Did she dare test the god’s resolve, or her own?

Ashamed of where such thoughts had led, she softened both her pose and expression. “Last night you complained I was too flirtatious, and tonight too distant and mysterious. It appears I am a failure in my pose as your mistress.”

Surprised she wished to discuss the usually volatile subject, Egan relaxed as well. “No, on both evenings you were much admired.”

“Perhaps,” Oriana mused thoughtfully, “but you had hoped my presence would distract everyone, not send them into a frenzy of absurd speculation that could endanger both our lives.”

While that was certainly true, for the moment Egan cared nothing for the world outside his chamber. He went to Oriana and again coaxed her from the chair she sought all too often. He hugged her close to savor her faint lavender scent and ran his hands over her long, pretty curls. Were she truly his mistress, he hoped he would do a far better job of pleasing her.

“You ate sparingly this afternoon and nothing this evening. While you prepare for bed, I’ll fetch us some warm bread and cold venison.” He would also bring wine to sooth her troubled mood.

They had apparently reached an uneasy accord, and Oriana was amazed her clumsy apology had prompted such unexpected consideration from him. “I’m too frightened to be hungry,” she confided shyly.

Egan wondered how she had found the courage to boldly follow him into the fortress, but hoped she had been prompted by concern for his welfare. Seeking to deepen the regard she refused to voice, he placed a hasty farewell kiss on her cheek.

“You mustn’t argue with me,” he scolded softly. “You must simply eat. I’ll return before you’ve noticed that I’ve gone.”

Oriana was impressed by his sweetness, but badly disappointed by how little her dire warnings had meant to him. Perhaps after she left the fortress, the threat of danger would vanish with her. If no horrible consequence occurred to him later, then he would undoubtedly laugh at her memory, but that was preferable to her weeping at his grave.

She could remove the heavy golden torque by herself now, but as her fingertips played over his mother’s smooth wooden beads, she knew she would miss them almost as much as the charming man who had given her the beloved token.

When Egan found guests still lingering in the great hall, he slipped through the narrow back passageway usually reserved for servants. Upon reaching the kitchen, he told the startled cooks that he was too hungry to summon a servant to bring food and stood by while they filled a platter with the bread and venison he had promised Oriana. He balanced it upon his fingertips and picked up a full flagon of wine on his way out.

He was convinced Oriana was simply tired and hungry, and he hoped she would turn affectionate once she felt refreshed. He began to whistle, then caught himself before he drew any unwelcome company. He nearly shouted for joy when he found her in his bed, but then realized she had fallen asleep.

He was tempted to wake her and make her eat a late supper, but then decided he could use a short nap himself. After setting the food and wine aside, he discarded his tunic and shoes. Then with the stealth he usually reserved for the hunt, he slid into bed and waited for the woman of his dreams to awaken in his arms.

Chapter Ten

Kieran’s hand rested lightly upon Madi’s waist as he escorted her to the chamber prepared for her visit. Once they reached the recessed doorway, however, he stepped behind her and slid his arms around her in a possessive hug. He gave a low, suggestive growl and lowered his head to nibble her ear.

“Don’t make me wait any longer. I want to stay with you tonight.”

Although nearly crushed against his lean, muscular body, Madi shamelessly twisted her hips across his rigid arousal. It was sublime to possess such exhilarating power over a man, and yet she kept her spoken response deliberately innocent.

“ ’Tis bliss simply to rest in your arms like this.”

Kieran relaxed his hold to slide his thumb up the fullness of her breast, and his voice grew husky with desire. “Not for me it isn’t. I want to glory in all of you, and now, tonight.”

Madi replied in an enticing purr, “I’ll grant a kiss or caress, beloved, but nothing more until after we’re wed.”

Kieran raised a hand to smooth a dark curl from her cheek and brushed his lips against her ear. “We’re mere days from Samhain, which would be a splendid time.”

“Yes, indeed, but the appropriate agreements have not

been struck,” she reminded him regretfully. “If only your father had spoken to mine. Perhaps you could ask Egan to—”


Tags: Phoebe Conn Historical