Call Home the Heart (24 page)

 

 

They paused briefly to revel in the moment, kissing, stroking each
other tenderly, until Muireann felt a moist burgeoning inside of
her, an ache in her deepest core which only Lochlainn could satisfy.
She ran her fingers through his light downy chest hair, marveling at
its silky softness, before moving her hand lower until he gasped and
positioned himself above her.

 

 

Muireann thought briefly about warning him of her untouched state,
but the last thing she wanted to do was to have him treat her like a
fragile doll. She had been a burden to him, a delicate porcelain
figure, ever since they had first met in Dublin the month before.

 

 

But she was flesh and blood, with a mind of her own, and desires
which, though unspoken, had raged inside of her ever since she had
beheld his arrogantly handsome features at the Dun Laoghaire docks.
So Muireann arched up to meet him, and bit back her cry as he
pressed into her with one long hard stroke.

 

 

Muireann could sense Lochlainn struggling for control as he pressed
ever deeper, the pleasure almost unbearable. Not since his
fiancée had run off over three years before had he trusted
himself to get so near to a woman. Now he wished he could hold back
the tide, give her a much pleasure as she was giving him.

 

 

Muireann's gasps as he moved inside her proclaimed that she was
certainly more than satisfied. Lochlainn tried to still his
movements, but she tugged her lips away from his questing ones and
begged, "Now, Lochlainn, please!"

 

 

She dug her fingernails into his back. Then he gave her his all,
throbbing into her until he nearly shouted his joy for all the world
to hear.

 

 

Afterwards, he pulled her over onto her side as he rolled over in
the bed, and reached down to tug the covers up over them both. His
huge hands, warm and firm, continued to stroke and explore her,
until Muireann could feel all of the excitement building up inside
herself again.

 

 

Lochlainn tried to hold back, stunned, never having experienced such
passion before. But Muireann persuaded him otherwise, wrapping one
leg around his waist, leaning into him until they joined again as
one. Lochlainn stroked the long graceful curve of her back, and
toyed with the luxurious fall of wavy hair which tumbled down
Muireann's back in glorious disarray as he made love to her.

 

 

Muireann stroked his cheeks, planting kisses on his eyelids, before
once again darting her tongue in and out of his mouth in imitation
of what he had done to her. Nibbling his earlobes playfully, she
felt Lochlainn began to shudder out of control again.

 

 

She didn't wish to appear too eager, but she was perceptive enough
to realize Lochlainn frequently felt inadequate around her. She
wanted to give of herself, to show how important he was to her. She
wanted to be powerful and alluring not only because of her wealth
and social status, but also because of her attractiveness as a
woman.

 

 

Lochlainn certainly couldn't seem to get enough of her, as he pulled
away once or twice to prevent himself from giving in to his own
pleasure. He turned her onto her back gently, and covered her body
with his hands, stroking her gently, almost as though trying to
memorize her every curve.

 

 

"Are you disappointed?" Muireann eventually worked up the courage to
whisper, nervous at his intense scrutiny of her bare body and
painfully aware of her own inexperience.

 

 

"How could I be? I've never seen anything lovelier in my life than
you, Muireann. You ought to know that," he said sincerely as he bent
to kiss each breast in turn.

 

 

He trailed hot molten kisses down her midriff, and gently turned her
onto her stomach. Lochlainn began to stroke her back, and rubbed his
lightly bristled cheek against her soft skin. He drank in her scent
and warmth and softness like a parched desert flower drinking in
rain.

 

 

Muireann shivered with the intensity of the pleasure his slightest
touch gave. As his hand slipped between her thighs to caress her,
she almost lost control.

 

 

Turning over into his arms, she pleaded, "Lochlainn, now! I need you
now."

 

 

Lochlainn was shocked by her ardor, but was unable to resist her
plea even had he wanted to. He stroked assuredly inside of her,
until Muireann's face flushed and her breathing grew ragged.
Lochlainn could see her struggling to subdue her emotions. Suddenly
changing the rhythm to more powerful strokes, he urged in her ear,
"Let it all go, Muireann."

 

 

Muireann's body responded to his new tempo of its own accord.

 

 

"Oh, Lochlainn!" she gasped, her eyes flying wide open as the
miraculous sensations flooded through her from top to toe.

 

 

She raked her fingernails down his back as she rode the crest of her
passion, taking Lochlainn soaring with her.

 

 

At last, both lay completely fulfilled in each other's arms, and
drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

 

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

 

With the cold light of day came the realization of what she had
done. Muireann awoke to find herself alone in the bed. She would
have almost thought the night of lovemaking she had shared with
Lochlainn had been a dream had she not seen with her own eyes the
ruined sheets, and smelt Lochlainn's unmistakable woodsy fragrance
on the pillow she hugged to herself when she woke up. A pleasant
ache between her thighs and in the pit of her belly reminded her of
the incredible sensations Lochlainn had filled her with the night
before.

 

 

But what would he think of her now? Surely he couldn't love her,
could he? His heart had sustained irreparable damage when Tara had
gone away. He had told her so himself. Muireann had allowed their
friendship to deepen, knowing in what direction it had been leading.
She had tried to resist treading the path of temptation, but had
grown tired of denying her own needs and desires. Yet now that she
found herself at her expected destination, what was she to do next?

 

 

In the end she decided to take her cue from Lochlainn. If he was
cold, aloof and distant, she would be as well. If he showed the
least sign of regret, they would simply have to pretend that none of
it had happened. But what if he wanted more?

 

 

Muireann was no fool. The thought of an unwanted child filled her
with a cold dread. She padded over to her dressing table to tug on
her robe, which she had left on the back of the chair, then took her
brush and sat back on the bed with it. As she brushed her tumbled
locks into some semblance of order, she reflected that although she
would be delighted to have a child some day, this was certainly not
the right moment.

 

 

What would her parents say? Or Alice? Enough time had elapsed for
people to suspect the infant couldn't possibly be Augustine's,
unless she said the child was very late. On the other hand, she
might not even be pregnant at all, she thought.

 

 

"But if the damage is already done. . ."she wondered aloud
wistfully, but pushed that notion firmly to one side.

 

 

She rose from the bed to tug the bloodstained sheets off it, and
rammed them into the bottom drawer of her dresser. The last thing
she wanted was for Lochlainn to find out she had been a virgin and
either reproach himself or pity her. It was bad enough he had had to
look after her ever since he had arrived, she reflected as she went
down the hall checking each room, and found his pallet.

 

 

So he had been keeping an eye on her. The knowledge rankled. The
last thing she wanted was for Lochlainn to treat her like a child or
an incompetent. She certainly didn't want to be a burden to him. She
also knew a relationship based upon pity would never succeed in the
long run.

 

 

No, Muireann wanted to prove to Lochlainn that she could stand on
her own two feet, be independent. But did that necessarily have to
exclude a romantic relationship with him? Did they even have enough
in common to have a future together?

 

 

It was all so confusing, Muireann sighed as she began to remake the
bed. The clock in the steeple of the nearby church struck eight, and
at last she shook herself from her torpor. There was no need to make
a decision right now. She would just have to see how things
progressed. She was completely unsure what Lochlainn wanted, and it
was not exactly the sort of question one came right out and asked.

 

 

When she saw him next, she would be politely friendly, but not
terribly intimate with him, Muireann determined as she finished
tucking the sheets under the mattress. At any rate, she and
Lochlainn had far too much work to do to be spending time billing
and cooing with one another. With the weather growing warmer, the
planting season would progress apace. There was also the tree
cutting, breadmaking, milking, egg rounds, trips to market, sewing,
and all of the other chores they both did around Barnakilla. She
would have plenty to do day and night, without letting herself be
distracted by her oh so alluring estate manager.

 

 

 

 

 

Lochlainn, too, was distant, unable to believe he had had the
temerity to take advantage of Muireann's desperate plight when she
had turned to him for comfort. He prayed she wouldn't send him away
for his disgraceful conduct.

 

 

Even worse was the knowledge that he still wanted her. Making love
to her had been like trying a new, addictive, powerful drug. Every
time her amethyst eyes gazed at him, he wanted to kiss her
senseless. His relationship with Tara had never been like this, he
thought with alarm, wondering if what he felt for Muireann could be
true love. He had been fascinated by Tara, yet now he could barely
even recall what she looked like.

 

 

It was awful to have tasted the joys he and Muireann had shared
together, yet never be able to have her for himself. He was
convinced he would one day wake up to find she had gone, just as
Tara had disappeared.

 

 

Worse still, she might wake beside him full of regrets, and tell him
she never wanted to see him again. He had risked everything because
of his uncontrollable desires: his home, his friendship with
Muireann, his livelihood.

 

 

Thus Lochlainn, full of guilt, shame, and fear, avoided Muireann,
even when other people were around.

 

 

He thinks it was a mistake, she reflected miserably, and in turn
began to avoid him as well.

 

 

How could I have been such a fool, she groaned in the privacy of her
own room later that day, and shed a few bitter tears into her
pillow. Muireann had never known desire could be so acute, so
compelling. The more she told herself it was impossible, the more
she seemed to want him.

 

 

She had opened a door within herself, had experienced a burst of
freedom such as she had never known before, only to have her desires
and needs curbed and shackled once again, as they had always been.
Lochlainn was right there at Barnakilla with her, but he felt as
though he had already left her far behind.

 

 

 

 

 

A busy week at the farm prevented Muireann from brooding too deeply,
however, and she knew it would serve no purpose to look downcast in
front of the others for fear they might think she was giving up, and
lose heart themselves.  She tried to maintain a cheerful front,
and worked harder than ever to get Barnakilla back on its feet.

 

 

As February turned to March, the days lengthened, and the weather
improved. Muireann found herself restless, and kept taking on more
and more new projects. She knew it was because she was filled with
the joys of spring, but it was also to avoid any chance of seeing
Lochlainn unless absolutely necessary.

 

 

 One bright sunny afternoon Muireann decided to check her prize
horses, and perhaps take one of them for some exercise herself
rather than leave it to the young men who were working as grooms in
the stables.

 

 

She was just finishing loading oats into the feeding troughs when
Lochlainn came into the fragrant-smelling outbuilding.

 

 

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were here," he apologized, about to
beat a hasty retreat.

 

 

"That's all right. Stay here and talk with me for a moment."
Muireann smiled timidly as she sat down on a bale of hay.

 

 

Lochlainn looked at her warily, and then shook his head. "No, no, I
mustn't stop. I'm just about to finish that sideboard for the
Colonel, and I was coming to harness the horses to take it over to
him, if that's all right with you."

 

 

"Of course it is. You don't need to ask permission to use the wagon,
you know."

 

 

"I thought you might have needed it yourself."

 

 

"To pay all my social visits?" she laughed.

 

 

Lochlainn colored. "I know this must be hard for you, not what
you're used to at all, of course, Mrs. Caldwell," he said stiffly,
and fled the barn.

 

 

Once she was alone, Muireann wondered if that perhaps was
Lochlainn's whole problem, why he had been avoiding her. Perhaps he
couldn't get around the fact that she had been genteelly brought up,
and had doubts as to how she would cope at Barnakilla.

 

 

He thinks I am going to disappear back into that vain and empty
world, doesn't he? After all, Tara did.