Page 33 of Bound to a Highland Beast
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he insisted. “Dae ye… regret what happened?”
“Nay!” Isabeau was quick to say, her voice coming out a little too shrill. With a sigh, she turned to look at Tiernan, her heart sinking to her stomach as she tried to find the words to explain how she felt to him. “I… I was always told I must keep meself pure. I was always told I could only give me body tae me husband an’ ye... well, ye’re nae me husband.”
Tiernan froze for a moment before he nodded in understanding. Pulling her closer, he kissed her forehead, her temple, her cheek, the kisses feather-light and soft. There wasn’t much he could say to her, Isabeau knew. As much as she didn’t regret this, as much as she still wanted it, she also knew her fears were not senseless.
“An’… an’ I fear ye may think less o’ me,” she said, “fer doin’ this.”
At that, Tiernan pulled back, staring at her in shock. His hand came up to cup her cheek as he lay next to her on the pillow, pressing their foreheads together.
“Never think that,” he told her sternly. “I would never,neverthink less o’ ye fer lettin’ me bring ye pleasure. I want naethin’ more than tae please ye, Isabeau. I want naethin’ more than tae make ye feel good. An’ if ye must blame someone fer this, then blame me and we can stop it. I’m the one who touched ye. I’m the one who should have held back. I’m the one who doesnae deserve ye.”
Isabeau’s eyes had fallen shut as she listened to Tiernan, but now they shot open as she shook her head. “Nay,” she said firmly. She didn’t even know how Tiernan could say something like that. “I dinnae blame ye. I asked fer this, I wanted it. Iwantit.”
Smiling softly at her, Tiernan gave her a quick peck on the lips, one that made Isabeau’s heart flutter in her chest more than any passionate kiss they had shared. “Then dinnae blame yerself either,” he told her. “What we did, it isnae a bad thing at all. It’s a beautiful thing. I wish they hadnae made ye feel shame fer lettin’ yerself feel pleasure.”
Isabeau let out a small, humorless chuckle. “Well, the elders are very good at that. Pleasure doesnae become a lady. A lady must show restraint.”
“A lady,” Tiernan said, his hand trailing down her chest and tracing the contours of her breast, drawing a gasp out of her,“should be pleasured well an’ often. An’ she must enjoy herself without shame.”
It was easy to believe Tiernan when he sounded so earnest. He truly wasn’t judging her at all, Isabeau thought, nor did he think any less of her, after all. If anything, he wanted her to give in, to surrender to her pleasure. Everyone else always tried to control her, to limit her, to tell her what was proper and what wasn’t, but Tiernan wasn’t interested in any of that. He simply wanted her to be herself.
And as long as he was there with her, then everything would be fine.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The night air was cool on Tiernan’s cheeks. The sky above was dark and he couldn’t help but have some concern that a storm was about to come, clouds gathering swiftly to bring in the rain. It was late, so late that all the patrons had gone to bed, and he was the only one who was sitting there, outside the inn, simply breathing in.
He had made a terrible mistake. He should have never touched Isabeau, no matter how much she had wanted him to or how much sense her words had made in that moment. He could understand her frustration. And why a woman like her, who had never been allowed to do anything she wanted, would desire it—would desire him, even. He was aware of the effect he had on certain women. The fact that he had once been a brigand was appealing to many of them, and Isabeau had fallen in the same trap. Not only that, but she had wanted to experience what it was like to be with a man, something for which he could not blame her.
Of course, she was curious. Of course, she wanted to experience it after having been protected for so long. But he shouldn’t have been the one to touch her. The mere thought that he was the first one to ever bring her such pleasure, to see her in the throes of passion was enough to drive him insane with need, the knowledge more intoxicating than any wine. But that was a selfish notion. He had been terribly selfish this entire time, thinking that touching her once would bring no harm. But how could that be when before him, she had been so pure? He had not been lying to her when he told her that he wasn’t a good man. Even if he had changed, even if he was a blacksmith now, a man with an honest profession, he could not erase his past. It would haunt him forever. He couldn’t outrun it, no matter how much he tried. She would always be better than him,deservebetter than him.
On top of everything else, there was also the concern of their mission. It was a dangerous one, one that he would much rather face alone. He should have been firmer with her, he should have forced her to go back to the castle, where she would have been safe. As much as he understood her fear for her people and her family, he doubted there was much Beag could do once she was behind the castle walls.
Then again, there was no guarantee he would not move in secret, concocting a sly plan to hurt her and thus him, for disobeying.
“What are ye doin’ out here?”
Isabeau’s voice pulled Tiernan out of his thoughts and he jumped a little, surprised by her sudden presence. So lost had hebeen in his thoughts that he hadn’t even heard her, which was certainly not a good thing for a man who was being hunted. He had to be more cautious, more alert. For all he knew, danger lurked just around the corner.
“Just thinkin’,” he said with a small shrug, looking at her over his shoulder with a small, hesitant smile. The air between them seemed even chillier. Something had changed, he knew, in that room, something he could never take back, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Isabeau regretted it.
What would he do if she did? Everything was different between them now, but they still had to complete their mission. They would have to be in close proximity, always around each other, at least for the foreseeable future. If she regretted what had happened, that would be impossible.
“What are ye thinkin’ about?” Isabeau asked, coming to sit next to him. She was wearing her clothes once more and was even bundled up in her cloak, which she had pulled tightly around her shoulders to battle the chill. Tiernan wanted to reach for her, to wrap his arms around her and ensure she was warm, but he didn’t dare. He didn’t know if it would be the right thing to do.
“The mission,” he said. It was only a half-lie. He was, indeed, thinking about the mission, but that was all he was willing to share with Isabeau of what was going through his mind. He wasn’t going to tell her about his doubts for the moments they had shared. “It’s all I can think about these days.”
Isabeau said nothing, but she did place a gentle hand on his shoulder, which Tiernan took as a good sign. If she was still willing to be near him, or touch him, if she was concerned enough about him to follow him out into the cold, then perhaps he hadn’t ruined everything between them.
It was a blessing, and Tiernan had long since learned to count his.
For a while, the two of them sat there, leaning closer and closer to each other to battle the cold. Just as Tiernan was about to tell Isabeau to head inside, though, he heard the distinctive sound of footsteps nearby and he jumped to his feet, immediately putting himself between the sound and Isabeau. From the shadows, men emerged all around, surrounding them, and before Tiernan knew what was happening, Isabeau’s scream pierced the silent night as one of the men grabbed her.
Tiernan’s head whipped around just in time to see him press a blade to her throat, the sharp edge digging into her skin. And in that moment, it was as though all those months he had spent as a blacksmith had evaporated from memory, leaving behind nothing but the man he had once been—ruthless and dangerous.
Within seconds, his knife was in his hand and his body moved before he could even make a conscious thought. Years of training had left him with sharp reflexes, and with a swift, precise movement, the man who was threatening Isabeau dropped dead after Tiernan sliced his throat open. Screaming once more, frightened, Isabeau stepped back, far away from the man’s body,but Tiernan couldn’t look away from the blood that fountained from his throat, staining everything red.
His chest heaved and his eyes turned glassy, his gaze distant as he turned around to spot the rest of the men. There were three of them, two he could not recognize and, much to his chagrin, Beag.
