Sharon Schulze - L'eau Clair Chronicles 03 by Heart of the Dragon Page B

to Ian’s. She felt awkward, unskilled, but he gathered her closer in his arms and met her touch for touch, kiss for kiss. Only the strength of his embrace kept her from sinking to the ground in a heap of mindless pleasure.
    Now she understood how easily a woman might be led to sin, how simple it would be to give in to these feelings.
    Her body ached for Ian’s touch in places she’d never imagined could feel such sensations. He hadn’t done more than kiss her, and despite her ignorance of what came after kissing, she knew there was more—far more—to lust than this.
    He pressed hard into the cradle of her thighs and groaned, then set her away from him so swiftly she would have fallen without his hand on her arm to steady her.
    But as soon as she found her footing, he turned away.
    “Don’t you know better than to tempt a man like that?” he snarled.
    Her emotions already felt rubbed raw. His accusation poured salt on the wound and made her lash out.
    “Do you blame me for what happened?” Her voice sounded high with outrage. She sought to lower it.
    “I’ve never done these things before. I didn’t realize where they’d lead,” she added, not quite truthfully. She grabbed his arm and tugged until he spun around to face her.
    “Can you tell me you didn’t know?”
    Ian rubbed his hand over his face, then shook his head.
    “I’m equally at fault.” He straightened and took her elbow in an impersonal grip.
    “Come. We must leave this place before that Viking bastard regains his senses—assuming he had any to begin with,” he added wryly.
    “He won’t come to any harm, will he? He didn’t hurt me. He was simply doing his duty.” It seemed cruel, to leave Swell trussed up alone in the wilderness.
    Ian snorted.
    “He’ll be fine, except perhaps for a headache. I wouldn’t worry about him; if I were you. He would have done far worse to you, if Llywelyn wished it.” He hoisted her into the saddle, then climbed up behind her.
    Her body tensed as she sought to ignore the warmth of him pressed close to her back. His hand on her shoulder urged her to turn and face him.
    “And don’t call what he did duty, Lily.
    “Twas for his own gain. Duty is when you hate what you must do, perhaps loathe what you’ve become–” he nudged the horse in the ribs “–but you do it anyway.”

Chapter Seven
    Ian held Lily snug in his arms as they rode through the night. His comments about duty had silenced her completely, and once he settled his cloak about them, she soon fell into a sound sleep.
    The fight and the usquebaugh, not to mention the kiss—and more—he and Lily had shared, left him feeling revitalized.
    The bruises he’d gained at Siwardson’s hands were nothing, especially after the balm of Lily’s touch.
    He wished he could push his mount to gallop, to carry them on their way with the speed of the wind. God only knew how much time they would have before Llywelyn sent someone after them.
    At first he couldn’t decide where to take her. If he left her at Saint Winifred’s, her situation would be the same as before. He doubted she’d endure that for long before she found a way to escape. Ami as much as he’d love to go home, Gwal Draig wouldn’t be safe. It might be a very long time before he returned there.
    If he ever did. All depended upon Llywelyn’s reaction to his disobedience.
    He needed to find Dai, to learn if he’d discovered anything useful at the abbey. Perhaps then the question of where to take Lily would answer itself.
    Lily stirred in his arms as the colorful rays of the rising sun glowed on her face, then jerked upright.
    “Dragon?”
    she asked, her voice urgent.
    “Aye.”
    Her body relaxed, and she nestled her head against his shoulder with a sigh.
    “What are we doing?”
    Her trust in him was gratifying, though he didn’t know that he’d done much to earn it. Perhaps she was always like this. He fought down a twinge of jealousy when he thought of her cuddled so sweetly