Free Erinsong by Mia Marlowe Page B

make peace with herself, something reopened the wound.
Best to let it bleed. She wasn’t ready to cauterize it in
public.
    “Brenna,” Jorand said softly. “What happened
to you?”
    She felt as though he’d punched her in the
gut. How was this man able to read her as though she was a freshly
illuminated manuscript? It wouldn’t do at all. The wall she erected
around her heart had been breached, but she quickly shored up her
defenses.
    “Devil if I know what ye mean,” she said as
she slid off the wall and started back to the keep.
    He snatched up one of her hands.
    “Oh, I think you do,” he said as he pulled
her toward him. “Whatever it is, you’ve got to let it out. It’s
like a worm eating you from the inside.”
    “There’s a pleasant prospect.” She glowered
at him. “Thank ye for the lovely image ye’ve conjured for me,
Northman.”
    “After all this time, that’s all I still am
in your sight. Just a Northman.”
    When she tried to pull away, he tugged her in
close and cupped her chin. “Ah, Brenna. Can you not say my true
name? Not even once?”
    He leaned down toward her,
his deep eyes dark in the moonlight. His
mouth was so close, one corner turned slightly up. Brenna gulped,
wondering what that mouth might taste like.
    “Jorand,” she said softly.
    The name was nearly
swallowed up as his lips cov ered hers in
a kiss both sudden and inevitable. Her first impulse was to pull
away, but his kiss beguiled her. It was
not the kind of kiss she’d expected from a man like him.
    His mouth was warm and
sure. His lips pressed against hers just enough to let her know
she’d been kissed before he pulled back.
It was as sweet a kiss as she could
imagine. A kiss that wanted to give, not take. A kiss that left no bitterness in its wake.
    “There now, that wasn’t so terrible, was it?”
he asked.
    “Do you mean saying your name or letting you
kiss me?”
    “Both.”
    Her lips twitched in a suppressed smile. “It
was tolerable.”
    “Just tolerable?” He
grinned. “I know can do better than that.”
    Brenna stiffened as he pulled her closer.
Fire danced along her body where it pressed against his. She fought
against the urge to cry out.
    The rising panic she felt must have shown on
her face, even in the dim moonlight. “Hush now. Calm yourself,
Brenna,” he whispered. “I’ll not hurt you. I’ll never hurt
you.”
    His mouth closed on hers
once more, this time with more insistence. Brenna trembled under
his lips, but warmth stole over her, as though she were being
dipped into a hot bath. His mouth’s gen tle probing released a flood of new sensations in her belly.
One by one, her locked muscles loosened and she relaxed into his strong body.
    With hesitation, she let
herself rest her palms on his shoulders,
enjoying the feel of his muscles under the
rough cloth of his tunic. Almost of their own
voli tion, her hands crept up and draped
around Jorand’s neck, sliding under the
thick blond hair that brushed past his
shoulders. His bare skin was warm and smooth under her
fingers.
    One of his hands caressed
her spine and then pressed her against him. Brenna felt the
hardness in his groin and fear rushed back
into her.
    She shoved against his chest and he released
her mouth.
    “Never kiss me again, Northman,” she spat
between clenched teeth.
    “Only if you can honestly tell me you didn’t
enjoy it,” Jorand said, casting a knowing look.
    Brenna made a growling
noise in the back of her throat and yanked
herself out of his arms. He didn’t fight
to keep her there. She stomped away toward the stone tower.
    Halfway across the courtyard she met
Moira.
    “Where’s Keefe—I mean
Jorand?” her sister wanted to know. “Da is
calling for him and I’ve looked everywhere.”
    “He’s over there.” Brenna
pointed in the direction of the rock wall.
“Though I can’t imagine what a body would want with the likes of
him,” she added sourly.
    “I can.” Moira’s voice was as soft as