Page 150 of Claiming Her

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But that was for later. Her body shifted in sleep, and he dropped beside her and slid his hand along the warm curve of her body. Everything else was for later, because if there was one thing Aodh had learned in all his years of hard living, it was to seize what you wanted, the moment you saw it, ere it was snatched away forever.

He slid his hand lower.

*

AT DAWN, Aodh was up, awake and seemingly hale, which seemed impossible, except that he was touching her.

At first, she thought it was a dream. A dream he was uninjured and hardy and virile. Slowly, she roused out of the heady, clouding state of slumber and found him most definitely injured, not quite well, but very hardy, exceptionally virile, and most definitely touching her, his hand working its way masterfully down her body, seemingly none the worse for wear. Her hips rose up to meet his hand, her knees falling apart at the merest coaxing touch.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered, the words catching in her throat as she threaded her fingers though his hair.

“You will find I am exceptionally hard to lose.” His words rose up, muffled, from under her cloak. Then he poked his head out. “But then, you came and found me, did you not?”

His mouth was entirely swollen on one side, as was one eye. Four days’ growth of facial hair lessened the evidence of his battering, but even through the dark fuzz, green and blue bruises could be seen. One side of his brow was out farther than the other.

“Oh, Aodh.” She touched his face with her fingertips.

He leaned down and brushed his cheek by hers. “Kissing will have to wait.”

“Kissing? Of course it must wait… All this,” she waved at her body and tried to struggle up, “must wait. You need rest. You cannot be ready for such…exertions.”

He held her down with a gentle pressure on her belly, his smile lopsided and lumpy. “I am quite ready for exertions, Katy. Have you not learned, ’tis a mistake to wait? If a thing matters, and it is there, you take it.” His words grew more intent as their eyes met, and his hands flattened on her belly, stroking her lightly. “That is how we shall do it.”

She let herself be drawn back down, her arms going around his neck. “If you insist.”

He lowered his head under the cloak again. She tipped her head back and curled her fingers, very gently, into his hair. He shifted about, laid his chest between her thighs, and pushed her leg to the side with an elbow.

“Och, maybe a little kissing is in order.”

She closed her eyes.

The morning, if morning it was, passed slowly, languidly, pale daylight rolling timeless and golden around the corner of the cave, casting just enough light for Katarina to see everything Aodh was doing to her.

*

THEY SLEPT again. Aodh was awakened by the sound of boots at the cave entrance.

Aodh swung to his feet, sword in hand, grimacing in silent pain, his muscles taut and screaming. He swayed slightly as three caped figures rounded the corner of the cave and loomed blackly amid the sunlight pouring down the tunnel entrance, all height and width, no depth.

Behind him, Katy got to her feet as well. He heard the low hiss of her sword being drawn.

Och, he did love this woman.

“Jesus God, you look like hell,” said Ré softly, and a hot breath of relief rushed out of Aodh. He lowered his sword and limped toward them.

“Did I not tell you to stay in the keep, son?” he said hoarsely when he saw Bran. cupping the back of his squire’s neck and shaking gently. Bran’s eyes were red and wet, so he could not answer.

“I made him come,” Katarina explained quietly. “He fought me tooth and nail, but I insisted.”

Aodh squeezed the back of Bran’s head. “Well, then, you’ve learned an important lesson: always listen to the ladies.”

“Unless it’s the queen,” Bran quipped, his eyes still red but a smile cracking the tension of the last few days, now that his champion was returned to him.

Aodh’s hand fell away. “Ah. Well, there you bring us to the matter at hand,” he said as Ré clasped his arm swiftly and tightly. One could have been forgiven for thinking it was a perfunctory thing, if one had not seen how tightly it was done, or how tautly Ré’s jaw was clenched, or how he blinked repeatedly as he stepped back.

Cormac gave Aodh a hearty embrace that made him groan in pain, then the Scotsman stepped back with a grin.

“Well, where are we off to now?”


Tags: Kris Kennedy Historical