Oriana had calmly listened to the knowing and provided thoughtfully embellished fortunes for as long as she could remember, but nothing had prepared her for a life with Egan, where death and danger leapt from every corner.
“Beyond your wildest imagining,” she replied, and closed the door to send him on his way.
“What’s beyond imagining?” Egan asked. He rolled onto his side and straightened his arm to shove himself into an upright position.
“The possibility of flight,” Oriana answered as she rushed to assist him.
“I can manage on my own,” Egan responded crossly, but once he had sat up straight, he had to lean back against the wall to catch his breath. He had sincerely believed Oriana’s touch would heal the long cut in his side, but it was not happening nearly as rapidly as he had hoped.
At his rebuff, Oriana had drawn back and begun to pace beside the bed. She hugged her arms, then plucked at her sleeves before retracing her path with a distracted step. He wanted her beside him, but it was obvious she would not be able to sit still.
“I shouldn’t have spoken so sharply,” he murmured, “but I can’t rely on your help. I need to care for myself.”
Oriana lengthened her stride to cross the chamber, then pivoted gracefully to come back toward the bed. “I understand, and I want you to be well. You were born to be king, and I love you with all my heart, but I can’t spend my life imprisoned in this awful fortress, or I will surely lose my mind. My sanity may already be slipping away.”
She was dressed in a beautiful gown, and her hair was again neatly combed, but each time she glanced toward him, flames seemed to dance in her eyes. He did not know whether to laugh or cry, and when either activity would doubtless prove excruciating, he could only watch her and wait for inspiration.
“It appears I’m a very poor husband,” he finally offered, “for no new bride should be as unhappy as you.”
“I’m not merely unhappy,” Oriana explained. “I’m terrified that we’re caught in a violent whirlpool that will keep spiraling downward until we’re drowned beneath its weight.”
Egan was equally depressed by that frightening image. “Doomed,” he muttered.
“Aye. Cursed.” Oriana kept up her brisk walk beside the bed, but she looked as though she would rather run.
“The Dál Cais have always been lucky. Why should we be cursed?” he asked.
Oriana halted in midstride, but she could not bring herself to describe her fear: she suspected that his father had murdered his mother. “I’ll not speculate on the cause, but I fear we’ll not escape it,” she responded.
Egan refused to allow her mood to deteriorate any further. With only one attractive option open to him, he seized it. “Bolt the door.”
Oriana’s frown deepened, but he had issued a command, not a polite request, and she quickly complied. “Did you hear footsteps? I’ve no weapons here. Will we need them?”
“No. We’re safe for the moment, but we don’t want to be disturbed while we’re making love.”
Caught by surprise, Oriana remained by the door. “You’re not well enough,” she argued softly.
Egan gestured for her to approach him. He did not care if he was risking his health when Oriana was in such great need of reassurance, and he lowered his voice to a more seductive level. “There are many ways to make love, and we’ll indulge in one that won’t cause any harm to either of us. Now come here and sit across my lap.”
Blessed with a vivid imagination, Oriana readily grasped what he had in mind, but she was still reluctant to join him on the bed. “No, I’ve not been with you enough. I’ll be too clumsy and hurt you.”
“Oriana,” he nearly sang, “you’re never clumsy.” He unfastened his belt to loosen his pants, but still she did not move. Where was the confident young woman who had shocked him by stepping out of her shift? he wondered. Of course, that was before she had seen Kieran carve up his side. And before he had stupidly sent her away. It was no wonder she was so skittish.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wanted only to please you. Just come sit beside me here on the bed, and we’ll see which of us can guess what they’ll bring us for dinner.”
It was such a silly contest, Oriana could not help but smile, and relieved he had given up on making love, she crawled up on the bed and made herself comfortable by his side. “You have the advantage because you know all the likely possibilities,” she complained. “I’d not eaten wild boar until I came here, and I’ve no idea what wonders might be served tonight.”
Egan fought to contain the width of his grin as he slid his arm around her shoulders to pull her close. “Fish, perhaps.”
?
??Oysters?” Oriana guessed.
“Aye, oysters would be far better than gruel.” He took her left hand in his and brought her fingertips to his lips.
“When have you ever been served a bowl of gruel, my lord?” He was warm, and she relaxed against him. His kiss on her palm tickled, and she laughed.
She looked up at him and watched his eyes close as he bent his head to kiss her. As their lips met, she knew she had been tricked. Still, it was a long, slow, luscious kiss that turned her thoughts in the direction of his. His taste was delicious, and silently begging for more, she leaned into him.