‘Lyall, please,’ Giselle gasped.
When she cried out, his hand came over her lips. ‘Quiet my love, or the whole of Beharra will hear us.’
He removed his hand and replaced it with his mouth and Giselle gasped out her ecstasy against it, as she held him, hot and taut and slippery against her palm. She shuddered against the barn door, digging her fingers into his back, hanging on to him for dear life, moaning against his mouth, thinking she might die from the pleasure of it all.
A moment later, Lyall stiffened and groaned, and something gushed, warm, over her fingers. Giselle could not move, and so she stood pinned to him until his breathing slowed. Then Lyall took hold of her hand and wiped it on his tunic. Giselle looked up at him, but his face was in darkness. He put his hand around her throat and kissed her with great tenderness. It was as though her whole body was raw, and she could have cried in an awful confusion of joy and remorse.
‘Giselle, are you alright. Say something.’
‘Do you think ill of me, Lyall?’ she gasped.
‘No, I think very well of you, Giselle, and I thank you for bringing comfort to me this night. You have eased my cold and lonely life since you came into it.’
‘Were we wrong, to do what we just did?’
‘No, it has been building in me since I first laid eyes on you. After I saw you at Wulversmeade, with your hair flying out in the wind, I wanted you. Not one night has gone by since then when you did not keep me from my sleep. I think you might be a witch, casting spells on me.’
‘You must think I am the worst kind of woman.’
‘No, you are the best.’
‘Am I become your whore, as well as your prisoner?’
‘No, Giselle.’ He kissed her almost angrily. ‘This is the truth of it. I like you. I more than like you. Tell me true? Do you like me or are you just afraid of me?
Giselle hesitated. Could she trust him with her feelings? Could she tell Lyall that he was more of a man than all the other men in the world put together? Could she tell him he was beautiful and strong and perfect, and that he put a fire in her belly and made her world spin, just by looking her way? Should she, because, if she did, she might sound like a weak fool?
‘Lyall, I do like you, but we are strangers, and I am your prisoner.’
‘Not anymore,’ he said, pulling her hair off her face. ‘You may go free whenever you wish.’
‘Free? Do you want me gone then?’
‘No, of course not. But I wish it to be your choice. Mine is that you stay awhile, if you can bear it, so that we can make sense of what is between us. I give my word I will not lay a hand on you again until you ask me to.’
Giselle was glad Lyall could not see her blush. ‘I do like you, Lyall, but there are things I should tell you before you can really know me.’
‘Hush,’ he whispered. ‘Horses. Someone is coming.’
Giselle heard faint shouts of greeting from the watchmen.
‘Quickly, you must get back to your chamber, before someone sees you.’
Lyall took her hand and they slipped out of the barn and into the cover of the shadows up against the walls. They entered the keep through a side door, and hurried up the stairs, to the sound of others stirring.
At the chamber door, Lyall gave Giselle one last, glorious kiss, full of longing.
‘I must see who is here at this hour. Find your bed, quickly, before I ravage you senseless, and I will see you at first light. I can hardly bear to wait that long.’
With that, he sped off into the darkness, and Giselle was left with a hammering heart and a smile that would not stop.