Moon Craving (26 page)

"I assure you, it is the truth." She only wished it was not. "The abbess says they cry demon when they cannot explain why a fever leaves one person deaf or blind but another untouched by any such difficulty."

"Your abbess sounds like a wise woman," Guaire said.

"I never met her. We only corresponded through letters, but I counted her friend. She was the only person besides my sister Emily who found value in me after discovering my affliction."

Talorc took hold of her face and turned her head so their eyes met. "Stop calling your deafness an affliction."

The rest of the room ceased to exist for her. "It is—"

"An infirmity, though not much of one in your case. You have learned to compensate for it in amazing ways."

"I have no choice. I did not want to live the rest of my days in a nunnery's locked cell." She shivered at the thought that still plagued her dreams some nights.

"You had a choice, but you did not give up." He shook his head, looking puzzled, but she did not know what by. "The only true misfortune is the idiocy your parents showed upon learning of your changed circumstances."

"Emily protected me from my mother's wrath." As much as she had been able to anyway.

"There should have been no wrath. You did not make yourself deaf."

"She always blamed me. I was supposed to make a good match and forward her social ambition."

"Marriage to a laird should please any mother."

"Sybil was just glad to get rid of me, but my younger sister Jolenta was jealous."

"It matters not. You are now mine to protect."

Abigail stared at him, not sure how to take that. Just yesterday, he had said there was no place for her in the clan. Now he acted as if he had no intention of banishing her.

She wanted to know his plans but was not about to ask about them in front of his soldiers.

Someone must have said something because Talorc frowned and looked over his shoulder. He spoke, his face averted so she could not read his lips. Osgard got up and stormed from the great hall.

"He does that a lot," she said quietly.

Talorc returned his attention to her. "What?"

"Osgard is of an age to be revered, but he acts the child, storming off." She bit her lip, hoping she had not gone too far in criticizing the old man.

"He paid a great price when my father's second wife betrayed our clan to her English lover."

She gently pulled her face from his hold and turned to Guaire, refusing to hear again how she was held responsible for the heinous actions of a dead woman. "When is the next trade gathering?" she asked the seneschal in what she hoped was not an obvious bid to change the subject.

"In the early fall."

"Will we attend?"

"The Sinclair always sends a delegation."

"He does not go?" Abigail asked, disappointed. "I would have liked to go."

Guaire looked past her to Talorc and then had to bite back a smile. "I believe your husband would like your attention."

She turned to Talorc, determined not to answer if he made another comment about the infamous Tamara or the betrayal of the English. From the fierceness of the frown on his face, that was exactly what he was thinking about.

She stifled a sigh. "Yes?"

"Would you like to attend the gathering?" he asked, each word bitten off.

Shock had her eyes widening, but she was no fool, no matter what Sybil said.

"Very much so."

"Then we will attend."

"Will I see Emily there?" Excitement coursed through her.

Talorc's countenance, which had just begun to lighten, went dark again. "I do not know."

"She is my sister and I love her."

"I know how much."

"Please, Talorc . . ." She pleaded to him with her eyes not to get into her sins in front of his soldiers.

"I will make sure the Balmoral is made aware of our intention to attend."

Pleased at her husband's kindness, tears of frustration still clogged her throat as she forced out a simple "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. It is my duty to provide for your happiness."

Rather than feeling defeat at his reasoning behind his kindness, Abigail was glad.

"Few husbands would see it so. You are a good man, Talorc."

"Chrechte know their responsibilities to their mates."

"Is a friend more important than a wife?"

He didn't answer, choosing instead to ask Barr a question about the soldiers' training that day.

She leaned toward Guaire and whispered, "He can be very abrupt."

"He is laird. He does not waste words."

"Is an answer a waste of words?"

When Guaire shrugged, the knowing expression in his eyes told her he remembered her complaint about that particular gesture so favored by the Highland warriors.

She giggled and soon his chuckle followed.

When her gaze traveled around to the other eaters in the hall, she found Niall glaring daggers at her and her giggles faded to nothing. She could not forget that along with her husband's trust, the revelation of her secret had lost her a friend.

Later, tired, Abigail excused herself to retire.

"I will escort you to your chamber, my lady," Guaire offered.

But Talorc stood abruptly. "I will go up with my wife."

Abigail took her husband's hand with some trepidation. She was not sure she wanted to be alone with him where he would feel free to continue berating her for her deception.

He noticed her hesitation and frowned at it, his hand closing firmly over hers. She looked back at the table and saw Niall give Guaire a look that made little sense.

The huge warrior looked hurt in some way, but Guaire had done nothing to hurt him.

Talorc locked their door after leading Abigail inside the bedchamber and then leaned against it, facing her. "You and Guaire have grown very close."

"He reminds me of Emily."

Her husband's shoulders jerked in surprise. "My soldier reminds you of your sister?"

She giggled at the implication. "Not because he is feminine. He may not be as fierce as you, but he is a strong soldier. I would trust my safety in his hands," she said, repeating something similar to what Una had said once.

"So, how does he remind you of Emily?"

"He saw value in me before he learned my secret and that did not change after."

Talorc's brows drew together. "According to what I saw at dinner tonight, many members of the clan feel the same."

"Yes, it is amazing. Only Guaire was already a good friend, and then he showed himself to be a true friend both standing by and standing up for me. Even with Niall, who intimidates most clan members."

"Like Emily did when you first lost your hearing," Talorc said, clearly able to draw a logical conclusion.

"Emily saved my life twice." Abigail wanted to make her husband understand why her sister was such an important part of her life. "When I had the fever, no one wanted to risk exposure to nurse me."

"Not even your mother?"

"Especially not my mother."

"So, Emily nursed you?"

"Yes."

"You said she saved your life twice."

"Fear of the inexplicable is strong in my father's keep."

"Yes?"

Abigail nodded. "If the rest of the keep had been made aware of my loss, they might well have insisted on ridding the keep of me."

"Your father would have submitted to the demands of his people?"

"I know only that my mother would not have been disappointed to see me gone."

He said that word again, the one she did not understand.

Unable to meet his gaze directly and say what she wanted, she peered up at him through her lashes. "I did not believe I would ever have a person in my life who was more important to me than my sister."

"You want me to believe I am that person?" The tension in his body was easy to read.

Emotion clogged her throat. "Yes." More than anything.

Several long seconds passed in silence while he watched her and she watched him from beneath her lashes.

"I want proof."

Her head snapped up. "What?"

"Prove to me how much you want to be with me." He put his arms out. "Come here."

This she could do.

Without hesitation, she walked right into those arms that always made her feel so protected and safe. His spicy, masculine scent washed over her, filling her with longing.

She looked up at him, letting her love shine for him to see if he wanted to. "Please, don't send me away, Talorc."

He did not reply, but his mouth claimed hers with raw passion. He tasted like the mead from dinner and that feral flavor she associated with him alone. It was a heady combination and she didn't know how long the kiss lasted. The pure bliss went on and on and yet felt like it was over in a moment. She was so dazed by it, he had to touch her eyelids to let her know he had something to say when he lifted his mouth from hers.

She allowed her eyes to flutter open.

His expression was all fierce possession and wild desire. "Mine."

"Yours." If only she could know as surely that he was hers.

"Show me."

She nodded, finally understanding what he wanted her to do to prove his place in her heart. He wanted her to offer the one thing that was not and had never been part of her deception, something far removed from her sister and anyone else.

The untamed passion she felt for him.

With that in mind, she undid his belt, letting it fall to the floor, her hands already busy tugging at his plaid. She needed to get to bare skin, not just because he wanted her to prove something to him, but because she craved the intimacy he gave only to her.

The blue, green and black tartan came away from his magnificent body with ease.

He had not worn a shirt, so the loss of his plaid left him totally, gloriously naked. His body glowed with vitality, his muscles rippling with tension under his golden skin.

His manhood was half-filled and getting thicker by the second, his testes hanging low and heavy with seed. Knowing he would be planting that seed deep in her body soon, she quivered in her core, the thought of having his child unbearably sweet.

The smell of dried sweat and musk filled the air between them, calling to her senses like an earthy elixir. She did not understand it, but he brought out an unrefined element in her character that had her responding on the most basic of levels with and to him. Like an animal with its mate, she found not only the sight of him pleasing, but his smell and taste as well.

"You like to look, don't you, my angel?"

Her heart leapt at the endearment and she nodded, still reveling in the saturation of her senses.

But the way he felt under her fingers was the most wondrous thing of all. To have the freedom to touch him anywhere, any way she liked, and to have that freedom extended even now was beyond believing. In the best possible way.

Unable to resist taking advantage of that freedom, she reached out and caressed him, sliding her hand down his neck, across his chest and down his stomach until it hovered just above the nest of hair that crowned his manhood. Her entire being shuddered in pleasure at the jerk of his body and his rapidly burgeoning erection that showed the instant effect she had on him.

Curling her hand around him, she hissed at the heat emanating off his hard flesh.

"So hot, so strong," she whispered, watching his face for more signs of his pleasure.

They were there, in the way his eyes closed beneath his furrowed brow, and his lips parted to suck in and release his panting breath.

He thrust toward her with his hips, his hardened staff sliding against her fingers.

"So good."

She dropped to her knees and kissed the spongy tip. His knees bent and then he straightened them, and she could tell he remained standing by will alone. She nuzzled into the black curls of his pubic hair, inhaling the unique scent of his sex. His now-rigid penis rubbed against her cheek as she searched out more of the enticing fragrance.

He grabbed her head between his big warrior's hands and guided her so her mouth slid along his stretched, taut foreskin. She blinked at the dark red head, pearls of liquid weeping from the slit. Then she lifted her gaze to his.

He raised one brow as if asking what she would do now.

She knew what she wanted. To taste. She leaned forward the scant distance between her mouth and his manhood and lapped at those delicious-looking pearls, loving the salty sweetness.

He used his hold on her to guide her mouth farther onto his hardened shaft.

"Please . . ."

She didn't want to miss his words, but the pleasure in her mouth was irresistible.

Her eyes slid shut as her head tipped forward to take him in as deeply as she could. He hit the back of her throat and she concentrated on relaxing her throat and enjoying the sensation. She sucked as she pulled backward, swirling her tongue over his head.

Delectable.

His knees tried to buckle again and she repeated the move, increasing the suction of her mouth until her cheeks hollowed out. Continuing the loving with her mouth, she began stripping her own clothing off. He liked looking at her and she wanted to give him
everything
to show him that she was his.