“Yes. I saw her clearly as the hawk swooped down through the trees to settle upon her padded glove. She was dressed in a beautiful emerald green gown. It was as lovely as those your mother wore. By the time I was old enough to take any notice of
our clothing, she must have replaced all her fine garments with the simply tailored clothes we traded for at village fairs.”
Envying Egan’s confident calm, Oriana snuggled against his side. “I never asked Mother a single question about her heritage, and she stressed only that I was Lugh’s daughter and a precious gift to the world.”
“Which you are,” Egan murmured, this time sincere.
Oriana shrugged. “Perhaps, and it was always enough for me, but now that everyone here is so curious about my family, I feel a great fool for not pursuing the issue with my mother while I could. The delicacy of her speech and grace of her manner revealed her to be a lady unlike any we met on our travels, and even if I never sought them out, I do wish I knew who her parents were. I don’t even know if she had brothers or sisters.”
Egan had both arms wrapped around her now, and he rested his cheek against her curls. He had always known exactly who he was and what he was to become, but he could imagine how confused she must be to confront her identity at such a late date.
She was more vulnerable than she had ever been, but the response she aroused within him was anything but protective. He forced himself to breathe in and out in a steady rhythm, but the remainder of his body was not so easily controlled. She was trusting him with her thoughts, as he had feared she never would, but he wanted more from her. He waited for some small sign, a plaintive sigh would do, that she would now welcome his affection.
Unfortunately for him, with a sudden hoarse cry Oriana broke free of his grasp. She remained on the bed and knelt to face him. “Who is your worst enemy?” she asked breathlessly.
Furious with himself for not grabbing the opportunity to seduce her before it had been lost, he responded with the first name which came to mind. “Duncan O Floinn.”
“No, you’d never heard of the man before you met me. Who has your family battled for generations? Who were you raised to despise?”
There was a wild light in her amber eyes, and Egan dared not gaze too deeply before he leaned close and murmured, “We’ve fought the O Loegaire, but not since I was a lad. My father was not only adept in battle, but also at avoiding a foolish fight neither side could win.”
“Did he make the O Loegaire welcome here?”
Egan scoffed at that notion. “No, of course not. They are enemies still and always will be, but with equal strength there’s no gain for either side if we must fight to the last man.”
Oriana paused for a moment to listen to the steady beat of rain against the fortress’s thick stone walls. There was a distant rumble of thunder as the storm retreated. She could not bear to look at Egan and focused instead on her hands.
“If as I believe, my presence here has created the very danger you wished to avoid, then it is certain my mother’s people were the O Loegaire.”
Egan stared at her, as though a search of her sweet features would provide damning evidence, but all he saw was the fascinating young woman he wanted for his own. “In all my travels, I’ve met only a few O Loegaire. They were handsome brutes, with hair as red as yours, but that proves nothing. If you wish, I’ll send Albyn to find a bard or Druid who knows their history. If one of their women vanished without a trace, it will be remembered.”
“No!” Oriana cried. “You must not make any inquires on my behalf. My mother never regretted forsaking her family for Lugh, and I’ll not dishonor her memory by going back.”
Egan rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Now you’re making no sense at all, Oriana.” He rolled off the bed to add a log to the fire, but quickly returned to the warm tangle of furs. “Even if it were discovered you’re the granddaughter of the king of the O Loegaire, no harm would come to me. In fact, you’d be a valuable hostage should one be needed, and enhance rather than damage my reign.”
“You understand nothing,” Oriana scolded.
“Aye, that’s certainly true where you’re concerned, but you need have no fear that you’ll destroy me. Now get back under the furs so that we might sleep a while before the morning’s hunt.”
Oriana held her breath for a long moment but finally found the courage to inquire, “Don’t you understand how easily a woman can destroy a man?”
She was a creature of many moods, none amorous, he feared, but her question was impossible to turn aside. He coaxed her with a careless gesture. “Come back to me, and I’ll welcome the risk. I don’t care what Lugh might have planned for you. You shall be mine.”
Oriana had lived on her own too long to doubt her own courage, and there was no mistaking his; but to blatantly scorn the gods was to invite such horrible disasters that she dared not even imagine them for fear of hastening their arrival. And yet, how she longed to throw herself into Egan’s waiting arms!
Egan could almost hear her grappling with what he hoped was temptation, and just as he did in battle, he seized the advantage. With a quick lunge, he grabbed her shoulders and in one deft motion rolled her beneath him. He was so drunk with desire he longed to ravish her and argue about it later, but doubting such an argument would ever end, he fought to keep a painful check on his emotions. He kissed only her fluttering eyelids and then propped himself on his elbows and smiled.
What Oriana truly feared was that they were damned no matter what choice they made. The gods had the power to bewitch as well as destroy, and she felt incapable of outsmarting such clever beings. Egan, of course, harbored no doubts whatsoever. She envied him the ability to take what he wanted without the fear of dire consequences, but it was far too great a leap for her.
“I’ve never had a suitor,” she confessedly shyly.
Her remark was so completely unexpected that Egan barely caught himself before laughing out loud. Grateful to have avoided unwittingly humiliating her, he slid his lips tenderly over hers. “You do now.”
“It would appear,” Oriana agreed, “but you are far too forward, my lord.”
“A king is expected to be bold,” Egan exclaimed before kissing the tip of her dainty nose.
Oriana reached up to brush his hair from his eyes. “Whom did your father tell you to wed?”