His Enchantment (15 page)

Trálin’s entire body relaxed. On an exhale, he turned. “He has entered his chamber.”

“Thankfully, he did nae see us together,” she replied, her eyes never leaving his.

The moment shifted, grew dangerous. Alone. If they chose, they could fulfill their desires. His throat dry, he held her gaze. “You must go.”

“I know.” She didn’t move.

Awareness burned through him like a heated sword.

“You will be a hard man to forget, MacGruder. I doubt that I ever will.”

A long moment passed as he stared at her mouth, the tempting curve that beckoned him to again taste. “Catarine, ’tis best if you leave, before I do something foolish like kiss you.”

She pressed her body flush against his, raised her mouth until ’twas a hair’s breadth from his own. “’Tis what I would like as well.”

Catarine’s full lips glistening in the firelight from the hearth within his chamber, desire seared Trálin, erasing his every good intent. His breath stumbled. Bedamned, just one kiss, one taste, and he would be satisfied.

As if she read his thoughts, her lips parted in seductive welcome.

“Ah lass,” he whispered as he claimed her mouth. Her taste infused him, burned his soul until all he could think about was her. Sliding his hands to her waist, he edged her against the door, and with savoring slowness, eased his body flush against hers.

Her soft curves melded against him, her moan drove him wild, and her hands around his neck drawing him closer severed any coherent thought.

Aching with need, he took, tasted her like a man possessed. At her next shudder, he broke the kiss, held her away, his entire body trembling. “What am I doing?” He shook his head. “Never should I have touched you.”

Eyes dark with passion watched him with fierce conviction. “Then why does it feel so right?”

He closed his eyes, fought for the strength to make her leave.

“Trálin?”

At the worry in her voice, he opened his eyes. His emotions a complex tangle of need, desire, and duty, he brushed the pad of his thumb across her cheek. “I want you, more than you will ever know.”

“I want you as well.”

His bed behind them came into focus.
Bedamned!
His pulse racing, he rested his brow against hers. “Catarine, ’tis best if you return to your chamber.”

“Wait,” she said, “I have a thought.”

With the hint of smoke scenting the chamber, the flicker of flames from the hearth painting an air of intimacy in a shimmering swath, if the situation weren’t so dire, he would laugh. ’Twas as if this moment conspired against him.

“A thought?” he asked, curious how that fit into this gut-wrenching debacle. “How does it solve our predicament?”

A flicker of a smile touched her mouth. “Predicament, is it?”

“Aye.” Her teasing voice lured him, seduced him to believe she could have conceived an answer to this impossible situation. And, how could she be so calm when their time together must end? Bedamned, the lass was driving him insane.

She stepped closer, pressed her body against his.

“Ah lass,” he whispered as he kissed the curve of her neck, savored the pleasure rolling through him. He was playing a dangerous game, but how for this moment could he nae savor what too soon would be lost?

“Now,” he said as he continued, “are you going to answer my question?”

“If you keep kissing me,” she whispered, “I will nae be able to think, much less talk.”

With regret he lifted his head, her taste potent on his tongue.

Face flushed, her gaze dark with pleasure, she watched him. “We are to meet everyone in the great room at the break of dawn, are we nae?”

Enjoying the dangerous game, loving how this one woman challenged him as no other, he laid his palm against the door on either side of her head and lowered his mouth to nibble her lower lip. “We are.” He slid the tip of his tongue down the silken curve of her throat, then up to encircle her mouth. After allowing himself the luxury of teasing her a wee bit longer, he claimed her lips in a slow, deep kiss. When her breaths started coming fast, pleased, he lifted his head. “Meeting in the great room is nae an answer.”

“Trálin,” she rasped, her voice rough with desire, “I am having a hard time thinking.”

“Good.”

With a laugh, she pushed his mouth away. “I wish to ask you to—”

Too aware of her, he shook his head. “Be careful what you ask for. At this moment there is little which I can deny.”

With a hard swallow, Catarine glanced toward the bed, then back at him. “I want to stay with you this night.”

Wanting nothing else, he cleared his throat. “As much as I wish for the same, ’tis forbidden that we make love.”

“I know, but can we nae enjoy the next few hours together?” She paused, her gaze searching his with needy desperation. “I have heard of whispers of the pleasures a man can give a woman, and a woman a man. For this once, I would like to know if they are true.”

Images ignited in his mind of the many ways he could make love to her and leave her a virgin. Of the ways she could pleasure him without risk as well. Bloody hell, what was he thinking? He was a fool to ponder her request. A pignut had more sense. Except the lure of a few hours with her, the knowledge that once wed she would be with a man who made her feel naught, slayed the scales of common sense.

“On one condition.”

“Anything,” she whispered.

Anything.
His body trembled with desire. “Before the others awaken, you must return to your chamber. Never would I want to tarnish your reputation, or harm your promises made.”

Relief swept through her eyes. “Thank you for this precious gift.”

The sincerity of her reply humbled him. “’Tis you who are the gift.” Catarine was an amazing woman, and he regretted her life would be spent in a loveless marriage. However common her fate, he found his heart filled with regret. Before he weighed his decision overmuch, he swept her off her feet.

Turquoise eyes widened, and he caught the hint of nerves.

“Do nae worry,” he said as he laid her upon the bed, knelt by her side. Flames from the hearth accented her face alive with a warm glow and wonder. “Never would I hurt you.”

“I—I trust you.”

Humbled by her words, by her gift of this moment, he pressed a soft kiss on her mouth. “You are beautiful.”

Unsure eyes met his. “I am simply a woman.”

A smile kicked up on his mouth. “There is naught simple about you, which endears you to me more.” Wishing this night could last forever, he traced the neckline of the soft material of her gown. “If I had a wish, ’twould be to see all of you.”

Her eyes slightly widened, and full lips parted with an unsteady breath.

“Would you allow me such?”

Catarine gave a shaky nod.

His body trembling with the intensity of this moment, he slid his thumb beneath the material. Paused. He lifted his gaze to find hers dark with curiosity and need. “Tell me if you wish me to stop.”

Her lower lip trembled. “With what you make me feel, I doubt I ever will.”

Air hissed between his teeth. “One of us will be strong.” And with her being an innocent and unaware of the feelings inspired in making love, he vowed ’twould be him. To bring her pleasure, he toyed with the woven edge, wanting to see her passion grow, her body to tremble with need.

“Why are you going so slowly?”

A smile touched his mouth.

Her eyes widened with distress, and she turned away.

He stilled. “Catarine, what is wrong?”

Hesitant, she turned toward him. “I know naught of the ways of intimacy.”

Aware of the magnitude of this moment, Trálin paused. “For the next few hours, think about only of what we feel for the other.”

“What do you wish me to do?”

“Enjoy . . . as I will.”

“Do you nae want me to touch you as well?”

Images of her hands sliding down his skin, caressing him, wrapping around his hard length filled his mind. At this moment, ’twas about her. “My bringing you pleasure is an act that will bring my own as well.”

She hesitated as if far from convinced. “Are you sure?”

“Aye.” The importance of his every touch, his determination to show her the amazing things her body could feel, focused in his mind. Unless she asked him to stop. A request that, however difficult to fulfill, he would honor.

With painful slowness, he slid the top of her gown aside, exposing her full breasts, sultry curves that would make any man beg. He worked to catch his breath.

“Is something amiss?”

He gazed at her in disbelief. “Do you nae know how beautiful you are?”

The shimmer of firelight across her face exposed the sweep of red over her cheeks.

“Nay, there is naught to be embarrassed about. You are beautiful.” He hesitated. “I would like to touch you, everywhere.”

She caught her lower lip with her teeth. “I would like that, but however much I am curious to know everything about making love, I must keep my innocence.”

A fact etched in his mind with painful clarity. “And you will, that I promise.”

Distress clouded her face. “I am sorry I canna give you more.”

He gave her a tender smile. “Do nae apologize. Our each moment is a gift I never thought to have.” He cupped her full breasts with his hands, enjoyed the transformation of her expression from cautious nerves to immense pleasure. Unable to wait a moment longer, he lowered his head to taste.

“Trálin . . .”

“Just feel.” He covered the tip of her breast with his mouth, enjoyed her gasp of surprise that eroded to a low moan. Slow. He had to take his time, ensure this night would give her the memories to savor forever.

At an excruciating pace, he worked his way over the soft fullness of each breast, then nuzzled his way back to the sensitive tip. When her body began to tremble, he moved lower, tasting the flat of her stomach with slow thoroughness, savoring her unique scent of woman and wonder.

Emotions storming him, he lifted his eyes, held hers. “I want to see all of you.”

Her pulse raced at her throat, bringing his attention to the sexual flush stealing up her skin. “I would like that as well.”

His fingers tense with restraint, he edged the last remnants of clothing aside.

Naked.

In wonder he absorbed her beauty, her every curve that invited and intrigued him and left him aching with need. On a rough exhale, he tamped down the urge to push her back and drive deep inside her. She knew naught of lovemaking, a lesson he would enjoy teaching her.

With a lazy finger, he slid around her sensitive skin.

Catarine’s body shuddered.

This time, he swept his finger but inches from her private place, then stroked down her sensitive thigh.

The contrast of his hands against the tender curves of her skin raised his awareness further, and regret filled him that this night would be the last they shared. What it would be like to have each night together. But wishing for the fact would nae make it real.

He slid his hand across her soft wetness, and savored how her body shuddered against his every movement. “Methinks you are liking that.”

“As if you did nae know that,” she replied in a half moan.

“Mayhap.” He made several large circles around her sensitive folds, his each sweep closer, teasing.

As he continued to touch her, beads of sweat glittered on her brow.

With seductive slowness, again he slid his fingers to her swollen folds. “Now, to touch you.” He slid the length of his finger into her wetness and began to move in slow strokes.

Her body arched and shuddered.

“Just feel,” he urged as he slid a second finger within and increased his pace, in awe of her passion, of how her innocence made him want her more. With each stroke her hesitation fell away, until she arched to meet him. “Now to taste you.” His body on fire, wanting her with his every breath, needing to taste her, he swirled his tongue with excruciating slowness within her delicate folds.

Her body began to convulse.

Wanting to give her everything, to take her higher, he flicked his tongue faster.

Her body arched with an explosive shudder. “Trálin!”

“Let go,” he urged, “feel.”

“I—”

As she cried out with her release, he moved, then drew her body against him and savored her each shudder, too aware this special moment, this night, would end all too soon.

Hours later in his chamber, Trálin held Catarine’s body against his, her soft breaths even in a deep, restful sleep. He could look at her forever. Through the rough pane of glass, he caught wisps of moonlight struggling into the chamber, their sheen as if a wish tossed into the night. With the thoughts invading his mind about her, of a life together, they were wishes indeed.

He edged back a swath of hair that’d tumbled against her cheek, then pressed a kiss against her brow. “What am I to do with you lass?” The sadness of his words echoed within the room. “Naught. We each have our own life path, which does nae includes the other.”

She shifted, and a frown worked across her full lips. Lips he’d tasted, touched as he’d watched her fall over the edge many times over these last few hours. Never would he tire of making love to her. But this night, as his dreams to be with her, would soon end.

On a soft groan, Catarine shifted against him, then her hand reached out to touch him.

His heart squeezed at how natural it felt for her to reach for him in her sleep, as if they were meant to be together. If only he could tell her that . . . God in heaven, he loved her. Reality shattered the flicker of joy, of dreams of her in his life. Nay, he could tell her naught of his feelings toward her.

“Trálin?”

At her sleep-roughened whisper, he glanced down to find her watching him. He forced a smile. “I thought you were asleep.”

She hesitated, pushed up on her elbow. “Why do you look so sad?”

As if he could tell her the truth—that he wanted to damn responsibility and have her for always. He swallowed hard, stroked his thumb across her cheek. “I was wishing the night would never end.”

Sadness trembled in her eyes as she glanced toward the window. Caught in the battle of night, the moon flickered through the break in the clouds. “’Tis passing too fast.”

“’Tis,” he replied.

She turned. “Will you nae try and sleep?”

“I have caught a bit,” he lied, refusing to divulge that he was too on edge to contemplate such. Nor would he lose another precious moment left with her. “You should try and catch a bit more sleep. You will need it with the hard travel ahead this day.”