Breanne gasped when he sat up, drawing her to him. Her heart thundered, for she had never been so close to a man before. Her softness embraced his rigid body, and she went utterly still.
Alarr hesitated a moment, his gaze burning into hers with a silent question. When she did not struggle, he cupped the back of her head and dragged her into a fierce kiss. She could hardly catch her breath as he devoured her with his hot mouth and tongue. Shock and desire poured through her, and she clung to his shoulders, hardly knowing what was happening. Never in her life had she been kissed like this. He plundered her mouth, claiming her in a way that provoked a strong desire. Between her legs, she felt her own arousal deepening, and her breasts tightened. God help her, she could not push him away. And she didn’t want to.
Instead, she found herself kissing him back, giving in to her own needs. A rough growl came from his throat, and Alarr rolled her on to her back, still lying atop her. He continued to kiss her until her mouth was swollen, her lips bruised. But she hardly cared at all. She was lost in this forbidden moment, unable to think clearly.
The voice of reason tried to intrude, but she silenced it, revelling in the dark feelings. Her body delighted in his touch, and thoughts of surrender spun through her mind. She could give in to his seduction, allowing him to claim her. Everyone would believe that was what had already happened, since he had bought her as his slave. No one would believe that she was still a virgin.
Yet, she hardly knew this man. How could she succumb to these feelings when she knew not his true purpose? She could not trust him, nor could she surrender her innocence.
With reluctance, she broke the kiss and turned her face to the side. Alarr did not release her, but instead, he rolled to his side, pulling her back against his chest. She was cradled against him, and he kept both arms around her.
‘Sleep,’ he commanded.
Sleep? How could she possibly close her eyes now? Her body was alive with hunger, craving something she did not understand. He was still heavily aroused, and she doubted he could sleep either. But perhaps he recognised the danger and was putting an end to it before it went too far.
Breanne stared at the partition, feeling as if she could hardly bear to be in Alarr’s arms. This was not what she had intended at all, not when she had planned to win his trust. Instead, she felt confused and uncertain, almost afraid to move.
She was playing a dangerous game, and he had won the first round. Her heart pounded, and it took a while for her breathing to calm down. It embarrassed her to remember how she had behaved. She had mistakenly believed that she could soften Alarr, gaining the answers to her questions. Instead, he had aroused her so deeply, she was embarrassed at her own reaction. She was allowing herself to weaken, to fall prey to his touch.
Worst of all, she had enjoyed it.
He doesn’t truly want you, Breanne warned herself. He is using you for ransom. You mean nothing to him, and he will leave you.
She knew this, beyond all doubt. It was foolish to let down her guard for the sake of physical touch. Until now, she hadn’t realised how truly lonely she was. Feann had been kind to her, but he was not her true father. Nor had his wife ever been a mother to her. She had always felt isolated and awkward at Killcobar, never knowing why. She was not a MacPherson, but rather, an Ó Callahan. Perhaps that was why she’d never felt at home among them.
She could not let herself fall prey to Alarr’s advances, nor could she risk her own desires. For he would only abandon her, just like everyone else.
Chapter Three
Over the next few days, Alarr was torn between keeping his distance and sleeping with Breanne in his arms at night. Something about her presence brought him into a deeper slumber. She made the nights more bearable, and despite the physical frustration, he would not allow her to sleep elsewhere. Sometimes in the morning when he awakened, he watched her sleeping. Her mouth was softened, her fair lashes resting against her cheeks. Though she often braided her hair before she went to sleep, sometimes the reddish-gold strands slipped free, resting against the curve of her face. There was no denying her beauty, and Alarr suspected that any man would be furious at the loss of her.
If Gilla had been taken before their wedding, he would have raised an army of men to find her. Why, then, had no one done the same for Breanne?
It made him wonder if there was another danger he had not considered. He had travelled with the intention of avenging his father’s death...but what if Feann was gone from Killcobar? If they attempted an attack, the king’s men would slaughter him where he stood.
No, it was better to learn where his enemy was before he made a decision.
This morn, he intended to speak with Styr and begin making his plans. They had harvested nearly all the grain now, and the men had turned their attention towards building more longhouses.
He found Styr upon a ladder, hammering nails into one of the unfinished dwellings. The air was cooler this morn, and Alarr picked up his own hammer and a pouch of iron nails. In truth, he welcomed the constant activity to take his mind off Breanne. Being unable to touch her was its own torment.
He worked alongside Styr for a time, waiting for the right moment to speak. ‘Has Breanne’s foster father gone in search of
