Dawn Of Desire - Page 13

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” she replied. “I tried to wait up for you.”

Egan tossed his cloak over a nearby chest, then ripped his tunic off over his head and threw it atop the cloak. “Why? Did you really believe I’d listen to your apologies?”

Oriana’s eyes widened, and she hoped Egan would not continue tearing off his clothes to confront her naked when she was already all too aware of his size and strength. “Why would I apologize to you, my lord? You were the one who not only doubted me, but abandoned me at the edge of the sea.”

Considering Oriana worse than insolent, Egan’s face filled with rage. He bent to yank her off his bed, to shake her, to punish her for the unbearable pain of his father’s loss, but the word fool again rang in his head so loudly that he released her as though her pale skin had scorched his hands.

“How do you do that?” he demanded.

Oriana was trapped between the broad wall of Egan’s chest and the foot of his bed, but with a great force of will remained calm. “Just what is it that you believe I’m doing?”

“The voice. It’s calling me a fool just as it did at the gate, and I’ll not tolerate it another moment.”

He looked ready to rip her head from her shoulders, and yet Oriana was more intrigued than frightened. “You heard someone call you a fool just now?”

Egan swiped his hand through his hair as he turned away and began to pace in front of her. “Aye. I’ll not have you running through my head, Oriana.”

He had not reached for the knife at his belt, but bare-chested with his hands rolled into fists, he looked as though that might be his next move. Oriana extended her han

d to graze his arm in a tentative caress, and he spun toward her, his light eyes aflame.

He was a terrifying sight, and yet as wildly handsome as she had ever seen him. That stunning awareness came at such an inappropriate time that her cheeks flushed with shame. “I possess no magical powers, Egan. None at all,” she stressed. “If the gods are speaking to you, please listen. They’ve never lied to me.”

“Do you think me a fool as well?” he asked accusingly.

“No. Of course not,” she assured him. “You’re heartbroken over your father’s death. I wish I’d been better able to make you heed my warning, but even if you had, it wouldn’t have softened this terrible blow. Now please tell me what Ula said.”

Egan’s eyes narrowed menacingly. “You’re simply trying to distract me,” he swore darkly.

Oriana held her breath a moment and willed herself to look deeply. She was disappointed when, as before, her gift failed to provide clear insight into Egan’s future, but she was convinced she would never come to any harm at his hands. He hated her, she could see that without relying upon the knowing, and though it saddened her, she wasn’t afraid.

“No,” she confided in a hushed whisper. “That would be devious, and I merely wish to learn what she revealed.”

Taking that for a blatant lie, Egan cursed under his breath and resumed pacing. He would never forgive himself for failing his father in his time of desperate need, and as the guilt raged within him, he spoke to unburden himself rather than out of any desire to confide in the beauty whose honeyed voice had always warned of doom.

“Ula swears she fell ill and suffered such violent pains she begged to die. Father summoned her Druids to cast their spells, but though they succeeded in curing her, when he fell victim to the same torment, their incantations failed to save him. Several others fell ill and died, an ancient Druid among them, but apparently my half brother, Kieran, felt no more than a slight twinge and recovered fully.”

Egan abruptly ceased pacing to stare accusingly at Oriana. “I hate Kieran all the more for that.”

Touched by the depth of his anguish, Oriana again extended her hand. “Come. Sit down with me,” she invited.

“I am now the king!” Egan shouted back at her.

Clearly he was so angry that he longed for a fight with anyone who’d respond, but Oriana was far too wise to fall into that unfortunate trap. “Yes, I understand, and even if I am not among the Dál Cais, I am in your home where you won’t do anyone else’s bidding. But please, sit down with me, and let’s consider what you’ve learned.”

Bewildered by her sensible request, Egan reluctantly slid his hand into hers and sat beside her at the foot of his bed. “Ula tells nothing but lies, so we’ll never know what really happened.”

That he had included her in his anguished reply gave Oriana a moment’s pause, but she grasped his hand fondly in both of hers. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply to clear her mind. The suspicion Egan’s father had been poisoned grew strong, but she knew if she spoke that fear aloud, Egan might well respond with a murderous rage that would leave both Ula and Kieran dead. Killing his remaining family was no way for any king to begin his reign, and the consequences among the Dál Cais would surely be dire.

Though the need to protect him surprised her, she did not doubt its value. “You may hate me, Egan,” Oriana began slowly, “but I would like to remain here with you for a few days.”

Egan was feeling too hurt and guilty to think clearly. He had sought her out when he should have been home to care for his father, and her presence cut him as sharply as any knife. Filled with revulsion, he hesitated, but then haunted by the strange voice only he had heard, he thought better of sending her away.

“First swear you aren’t responsible for the voices I heard,” he ordered.

“You have my word on it. I’ve never thought you a fool,” Oriana replied thoughtfully. There was a whole string of uncomplimentary names she still thought applied, but fool was certainly not among them.

“If I’m to remain, however, I’ll need my own chamber,” she added.

Tags: Phoebe Conn Historical
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