Celtic Bride by Margo Maguire Read Free Book Online Page B

bandage at her throat.
    “Itseems to be knotted,” she said in a low tone as she stood and walked over to Marcus. “It’s chafin’ somethin’ fierce and I’d have it off if ye’ll help me.”
    Marcus rose from his seat, aware that he ought to do more than nod his agreement, but she stood so close that his throat closed up. His hands burned, felt as though they were blistering even as he raised them to the cloth at her neck.
    “I think some o’ the threads must have unraveled,” she said in a small voice as he finally touched her, “and tangled in the knot.”
    She was tall for a woman, the top of her head reaching as high as his nose, so he hardly had to bend to reach her. Marcus trained his attention fully on the knot, but could not avoid noticing a slight trembling in her chin. His fingers stilled and he ventured a look at her face, enthralled as she blinked one crystal tear from her eye.
    She began to turn away to cover her tears, but Marcus cupped her chin and kept her from moving. The sense that she was just as vulnerable as he, was overwhelming. He rubbed a thumb over the errant tear, and drew his head down toward hers, unerringly seeking her lips, as if he were a well-practiced lover who had kissed a hundred maidens.
    Their mouths met tentatively at first. Marcus kissed her softly, then pulled back slightly to allow a small space between their lips. Then the wondrous contact occurred again and Marcus deepened the kiss, enthralled by the amazing heat and sensual pleasure in this simple touching of mouths.
    Yet it was anything but simple. Keelin made a sound, deep in her throat, and Marcus felt her hands slip up his chest, thenaround his neck, and into the long hair at his nape, causing an unparalleled torrent of sensations. He slid his arms around her and pulled her to him, crushing her breasts to his chest, sharing the chaos that was merely the wild beating of their hearts.
    Every muscle clenched. Every bone turned to ash. Marcus wished there was no barrier between them, that he could feel her soft, warm flesh pulsing against his own. He could go on forever like this, tasting her, craving more. She was like a fever, raging in his blood, heating his flesh, burning his soul. He’d never experienced anything like it, nor—
    He pulled his mouth away suddenly. This was insane! Adam lay here wounded, and there was Eldred…
    Keelin.
    She stood perplexed, looking into his eyes. Both remained silent for a long moment, then they both spoke at once.
    “I apologize, my lady.”
    “M’lord, I—”
    Then, except for Tiarnan’s soft snores, there was silence again.
    “Why do you weep?” Marcus asked when he’d regained a measure of control.
    Keelin turned away shakily. “’Tis nothin’, m’lord,” she said casually, as if handsome young lords arrived at her door and kissed her senseless once a month. “Only the day, and the terrible things in it.”
    Marcus could still see the hurt in her eyes. And something more. Bewilderment? He was mightily bewildered himself, after sharing that kiss. It had been utterly intoxicating. Bewitching.
    Her perfect skin was flushed with color now, and the devastating sadness gone from her eyes. Now, her delicate brows arched with wonder.
    Keelin’s bloodfelt as though it were on fire. As she struggled to compose herself, she tried to understand Marcus’s withdrawal, and his apology for kissing her. She did not know how he could be sorry for such a kiss, unless, by her inexperience, she had somehow made it unpleasant for him.
    He did not look displeased, though, Keelin thought as she looked up at him. His chest moved as if he’d just run a race, and his eyes were still intent upon her. The touch of his lips had been entirely unexpected. Soft, yet firm and warm, too, as warm as the sun in midsummer.
    His chest, when it was pressed against her, was so very different from her own soft form, that it had pleased her beyond anything she’d ever known, and shaken her senses as