Page 14 of Touched By Maen Llia
“Do not touch me that way.”
“Why not?” His other hand settled on the other side of her chin. “You find my touch objectionable?”
She swallowed. She did not object to his touch in the slightest. It was doing strange things to her. Her middle swirled and her heart beat faster. “You do not want to…to kiss me,” she warned him.
“Idowant to kiss you,” he breathed.
Her chest rose and fell. She couldn’t draw a proper breath. She could feel the heat of his body next to hers. Caught a hint of his scent. Unlike a great many other men, his aroma did not make her wrinkle her nose and draw back. Shelikedit. It made her feel weak. Desperately, she said, “I am not a lady of the court, Marcus. If you wish to kiss a lady, there are many back in the dining room who would have no objections.”
“I want to kissyou.” His lips hovered over hers.
“I am no one…” she whispered.
“To me, you are the only one.” His lips brushed hers.
“I’ve never—” she began, then he kissed her.
It was the first time a man had ever kissed her. She had nothing to compare it to except the prattle of the ladies of the court, which abruptly seemed inaccurate and irrelevant. Why, kisses were sweet! And delightful. And…and…
Her thoughts evaporated under the delicious power of the kiss. He pulled her up against him, an arm around her back, so that she was vitally aware of the length of his body, the strength in it, and the inadequate protection of her tunic.
His arm shifted higher, and she hissed and stiffened.
“What is it?” he asked, raising his head to study her face.
“It is nothing,” she said quickly, but as he tried to hold her steady, she drew in a quick, sharp breath.
“Your back…” He straightened. “Iantobeatyou for refuting him?” His tone was a mix of anger, disbelief and outrage. “For being the only one to speak the truth?”
“Because I am a girl, a bastard and of no account, is why he beat me,” Catrin replied. Her eyes stung. “For the same reason, you should let me go.”
“No.” Marcus shook his head. “No,” he repeated firmly. He picked up her hand. “Come with me.” His tone was urgent, and low.
She knew what he intended. Her body leapt at the idea. Her blood fizzed and her limbs seemed to grow heavy, just contemplating what it is he proposed. But fear gripped her. “Marcus, I…you do not want me. You should not want me.”
“I do not care about should and should not,” he said roughly. “No one in Camelot gives a damn about those distinctions. Arthur fought a war against King Lot because Lot would not free a slave and consider him an equal. I would be a poor King’s man, if I did not do as Arthur did.”
Catrin tried to tug her hand from his. “I would not have you kiss me to make a point, King’s man.”
“I would have you kiss me, regardless of the point,” Marcus breathed. He let her hand go. “I have learned this day that your company is the only companionship that suits me. Let me enjoy it a few hours more. Just you and me.” He paused. “Let me drink you, instead of the poor wine neither of us can enjoy.”
Catrin let out a shaky breath and nodded.
VIII
Marcus’ rank among Merlin’s retinue was higher than he had revealed, for he had been given a room of his own and a real bed in the corner of it. A lamp burned low in the corner of the room.
Catrin wrapped her arms around herself and shivered as Marcus laid aside his armor and weapons, until he stood in a simple tunic and trews and boots. He came to her and kissed her cheek. In the lamplight, his eyes did not seem so black as they had in the moonlight. They held warmth.
“Show me your back,” he said. “A soldier knows more about tending wounds and my guess is that yours were ignored. Show me, so I know how gentle I must be.”
Heat burned in her cheeks. “They have been tended. Eira has a salve that is powerful enough that I am able to walk and work.”
“Then I will see for myself,” he said. “So I can measure the length of the insult Ianto handed you.”
She pressed her hand against Marcus’ chest. “No! You cannot! Not for me!”
Marcus rested his hand over hers, trapping her flesh between two layers of heat and softness. She caught her breath, but made herself add hesitantly, “Do not give the court a reason to turn me out, Marcus, I beg you.”
