by Sasha Lord
He touched her fine facial features, stroking the line of her brow and following the ridge of her jaw. He rubbed the pad of his thumb across a small indentation on her chin, then caressed the long line of her delicately exposed throat.
She was far too beautiful to be a peasant, yet her clothing was coarse and ill fitting. Who was she? Someone’s bastard daughter? A by-blow of some irresponsible gentleman and some unfortunate beauty? And if so, why was she riding through the dark forest in a thunderstorm? “Are you fleeing some lecherous uncle or escaping a vicious husband?” he asked softly, feeling a kinship with the unconscious woman. He understood how you could feel so desolate and afraid that you had no thought to the consequences of your desperate actions. He had known such tormented nights after his parents’ deaths. He had felt the need to ride recklessly through the night just to escape the gaiety of others around him.
He touched a damp curl. There were legends about red-haired witches and fire-breathing druids. Tales told over flickering campfires during long battle marches when men longed for some magic to transport them to another existence. Feminine magic . . . the kind that was filled with sighs of pleasure.
The kind of magic he needed right now.
Her eyes flickered and she groaned.
He wiped a piece of linen across her wet face and knelt beside her. “How are you feeling?” he murmured.
Kassandra’s vision began to clear and she focused on his face. A sense of wonderment filled her. He had come for her. Cadedryn . . . Dagda, Celtic battle king . . . He, the man of her dreams, beside her and caring for her, just as she had always imagined. Their earlier argument forgotten, she smiled.
“Better . . . better now,” she replied softly.
He wiped the rainwater from her brow and noted her blue eyes. The only other woman who had eyes as blue was Kassandra. He chuckled softly. In twenty-five years he had never seen such richly colored eyes, yet now he had met two women within a single day whose sparkling eyes contained more rich depth than anything he had ever seen. He had thought earlier that Kassandra’s eyes reminded him of a deep Scottish loch, but even that paled in comparison. Splashed against golden skin and blazing tresses, this woman’s eyes were beyond description.
She touched her head and closed her eyes in pain.
“You must have taken a nasty fall,” he said, startled from his perusal by the evidence of her discomfort. He placed the cloth across her head. “You have a lump on your forehead,” he informed her kindly.
Kassandra touched the spot and winced.
He brushed her hands away and gently cleaned her face. “Let me. Your hands are still too shaky. Trust me?” he teased.
Kassandra nodded. “Absolutely. I have always trusted you.”
“You look like a drowned kitten in that soaking dress. A tiger-striped kitten. Are you cold?”
She nodded again and started to shiver.
His teasing look became more intent as he became aware of her breasts puckering under the wet fabric of her bodice. He stroked the linen over her neck and the area just below her throat. “Do you live nearby?” he asked.
“Two days’ ride,” she answered. “In a forest near the ocean.” She leaned toward him, drawn to his heat, and his hands slipped behind her head, supporting her.
“Why are you here?” he asked, curious about her. Her voice was husky, either rough from pain or accented as if from another place.
Kassandra pulled the cloth away and smiled. “You know why I am here,” she replied, assuming he recognized her.
“Are you searching for someone? Someone to protect and care for you?”
Her smile broadened and her cheeks flushed with pleasure. Only hours before, she had been about to give up on uniting their souls, but now he was offering to love and protect her. She took a deep breath. He had been only surprised by her declarations, not offended. In his own way, she surmised, he was acting shy.
“Would you be my someone special?” she asked gently. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”
He raised his eyebrows, surprised but excited by her boldness.
She touched his cheek, caressing the hard flesh with the tips of her fingers. She swept her touch outward, toward his earlobes, and brushed across them with the lightness of a butterfly.
He shuddered, desire blooming hard and fast. He snatched her hand and pulled it from his face while staring into her eyes. “You shouldn’t do that,” he whispered.
She tilted her head toward the fire and inhaled the scent of woodsmoke. “Do you like the forest?” she asked.
“If you are in it, I would like any forest,” he answered, making her smile.
“The ocean?” she asked, trying to find out more about him. There was so much about her dream man that she did not know.
“Only if it is as blue as your eyes.”
She turned to face him, a soft flutter awakening in her belly. Their gazes locked and a vibration passed between them, making them both draw shaky breaths. This was the part of the dream that was unfamiliar. Only a hint of this feeling had whispered through her dreams, yet it had inexorably drawn her across the hills and into his arms. Here she was. With him. Feeling him.
She brushed a lock of hair from his face, reveling in his impossibly long eyelashes. Such gorgeous eyelashes on such a hardened warrior. The flutter in her stomach broadened to envelope her thighs and ripple down the backs of her legs until her toes tingled.
He rose and put some distance between them, trying to stabilize his breathing. “Where is your family?” he asked, his voice deeper than usual as he tried to control his rising passion.
“Far away,” Kassandra answered. She stood and walked up to him, her wet gown molding to her body.
“You have no one?” he asked as he closed his hands in a tight fist to keep from reaching for her.
“My sister.”
“Your sister?”
“My half sister. We share a mother.”
“Ahhhh,” he whispered, believing he finally understood. In the light of the fire, he could see that not only her eyes looked like Kassandra’s, but the lines of her face and the curve of her jaw were similar. Kassandra was pale and virginal. Although she had a temper, she was also a kind and gentle lady who dreamed of everlasting love. This woman, this tigress, was the opposite. She was bold and brilliant and he could feel her capacity for passion simmering beneath the surface.
Illegitimate sisters. One accepted into the fold of her father’s household, while the other was cast out, expected to survive on her own.
“I should return,” the woman said as she looked around the small hut.
“Of course,” Cadedryn answered as he draped his cape around her shoulders. “Does your sister, Kassandra, help you? Does she ensure that you are well provided for?”
Kassandra turned slowly and looked at him in perplexity. She shook her head, trying to decipher his strange comment.
His brows drew together in a frown and he pulled a pouch from his belt and withdrew several coins. “Take these. Purchase some warmer clothes and some hot soup at the tavern.”
Kassandra fell back a step and drew his cape closer. The warmth she had felt at his considerate care was fading and a cold suspicion was intruding. “I cannot go to the tavern,” she said.
“Is there someone there who will hurt you? Bother you? You are so lovely; it must be difficult to avoid those intent on taking advantage of you. If you’d like, you may use my name as your protector. While not all men like me, they all respect me and will not harm you if you are under my protection.”
The blood pounded in Kassandra’s ears and she was forced to turn away from him to shield the shock and pain filling her eyes. He did not know her! He had not rescued her because he knew they were life mates. He thought she was someone else!
“I am surprised Kassandra has not been kinder to you. She seems like a woman who would take greater care of others.”
Kassandra choked on a sob. How was everything getting so mu
ddled?
He stepped up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I would like to see you again,” he said.
Kassandra lifted her chin and stared at the flickering flames, unaware of how they danced across her red tresses. “I am . . .” she whispered, about to tell him the truth, but the words died on her lips. If she told him she was Kassandra, how would she explain the elaborate ruse? Would Kalial be punished for her part in deceiving the court?
He turned her around and made her face him. “You are . . . ?”
His penetrating gaze bore into her, and she felt her legs begin to sway. He was her mate, even if he did not yet know it. She had come this far to find him, and she had no intention of letting him slip away. “I am honored,” she finished. She glanced up at a noise coming from the rafters.
His gaze followed hers. “It is a pesky creature. Won’t leave me alone.”
She chuckled. “ ’Tis my friend. I call him Triu-cair.”
“You become more intriguing by the moment. Few ladies have pets and none has ever tamed a weasel.”
Her gaze returned to his and her voice dropped to a murmur. “You don’t want me to be a lady, do you?”
His breath caught. She knew nothing about him, not that his mother was a peasant or that his sole ambition was to regain his title. In fact, all she knew was that he was a man. He didn’t want her to think about anything else. “No,” he replied. “I’ve had my fill of ladies for the moment. I would rather spend some time with a woman.”
She backed away, her heart speeding recklessly fast. “Tomorrow,” she promised as she glanced outside at the diminishing rain. “I will meet you here tomorrow when the sun is at its peak.”
He stepped forward, reaching for her. “Don’t go yet. ’Tis still cold outside.”
A slow smile spread across her lips and she released her hold on his cape, allowing it to slide to the floor. “I love the rain,” she said huskily. She held her fingertips to her lips, then blew him a kiss. “Don’t follow me,” she whispered.
And before he could catch her, she and the weasel were gone.
Chapter 8
She ran through the rain, her heart thundering as loudly as the sky had only moments before. She felt his need and she wanted to give him everything, but he did not even know her real name.
She paused against a tree and spied her mare standing next to a thick bush, her reins caught amid the thorns. The mare’s head swung toward her and she offered a nicker in greeting.
Kassandra nodded thankfully, and after regaining her breath, she managed to extricate the horse and check her over for injuries. Once assured that the animal was fine, Kassandra lifted Triu-cair to her shoulders, gripped Briana’s mane and swung astride. The mare shied, but Kassandra’s soothing voice encouraged her forward. “Easy, pretty mare. It is just the rain. The storm has passed.” But inside, Kassandra battled her own tempest. Anger at Cadedryn’s blindness waged with ecstasy at his capitulation. She could feel his interest and knew he would meet with her again—not as Lady Kassandra but as his tiger kitten.
A red-haired kitten. She pushed her hair out of her face and winced as she brushed against her bruised forehead.
Her limbs quivered as she recalled his intent gaze. Sister. He believed she was her own sister. How could she have let that happen? How could she have let him think she was two different people? Was it right? Should she have told him the truth? Or perhaps it was fate, a form of destiny forced upon one who fought its relentless drive toward fulfillment.
The mare flattened her ears and cantered through the trees while Kassandra’s skirt snapped in the wind, barely concealing her bare legs. Triu-cair clung to Kassandra’s red hair, chattering wildly at the foolishness of their careening flight through the darkness and scolding her for her recklessness.
“Look!” Kassandra cried, ignoring his comments as she spotted the glowing windows of the castle. She drew in the reins and peered through the rain. “Everyone will be inside,” she said hopefully. “With luck, no one will see us.” A flash of lightning flickered in the distance, followed by a quieter roll of thunder. Kassandra wiped the rain from her eyes and pushed her wet tresses away from her face once again. The storm was moving through. If she didn’t get to the barn soon, the stableboys might come out and discover the missing mare.
She adjusted her dress as best she could and crouched low behind the mare’s withers. “Fortune be with me,” she prayed, and Triu-cair clucked in agreement. The mare cantered easily, her fear forgotten now that her warm stall was in sight.
As they reached the courtyard, Kassandra slowed Briana to a walk. She skirted the open areas, navigating the darkest shadows in an effort to remain hidden. Despite the barking hounds, she managed to reach the stable and ducked through the entrance.
Once inside, she slid down and led Briana to her stall. “You are fine and fleet,” she told her, “but a bit of common sense would do you well.” She patted the mare fondly, wiped her down and secured her gate as Triu-cair prowled the straw mounds, searching for prey.
A sound made Kassandra gasp and she quickly ducked behind a pile of straw to avoid being seen.
“We are no longer youths,” a woman whispered as two shadowy figures slipped inside the stable doors. “I must—”
“Just once more,” a man replied as he pressed his body against hers. “Who will it harm? I have never forgotten the feel of your body beneath my own.”
“Hush!” the woman admonished. “My situation has changed. I cannot risk everything for a moment of passion.”
The man grew angry. “I have done much for you,” he growled. “Have you forgotten what I did at your behest? I placed my soul in jeopardy!”
Triu-cair pushed his way through the straw pile and nudged against Kassandra’s foot.
She emitted a tiny shriek of surprise. So intent was she on the mysterious couple’s conversation, she had not seen her friend appear. She covered her face with her hand and squeezed her eyes closed, hoping the two would not come searching for her.
“I heard someone!” the woman said urgently. “We must go!”
There was a brief moment of silence, the sound of heavy breathing, then a pair of deep sighs.
“I will come to your room tonight,” the man said. “You will leave the latch open to receive me.”
“I—”
“No arguments. Now go. I will ensure that no one sees you cross the courtyard.”
The woman’s skirts rustled as she fled out of the stable, followed more slowly by the sound of a man’s footsteps.
Kassandra remained still for several moments, then rose and peered carefully down the aisle. No one remained. “Come along, Triu-cair,” she called under her breath as she slipped outside and raced toward the castle. “I have no interest in disturbing another’s tryst!” She located the servants’ side door, opened it and ducked inside.
Down the hall of the castle, she could hear someone playing a lute. In the great hall, the ladies and gentlemen of the court were dancing and laughing as they enjoyed the rich abundance of the king’s banquet. She saw Lady Corine and her mother, Morgana, greeting each other near the front door, and Curtis bowing to a distinguished man she did not know. Kalial was sitting on the far side of the room, smiling at the antics of a court jester.
Sighing with relief that all the people who could possibly recognize her were occupied, Kassandra turned and tiptoed up the servants’ staircase. A maid scurried past, too intent on carrying her platter to notice the redhead hovering in the shadows. Kassandra crept up to her floor, then assuring herself that no one would see her, she bolted down the hallway. Yanking open the door to her chamber, she ducked inside, slammed the door closed behind her, then leaned against the wooden slats and sighed with relief.
Triu-cair slid off her shoulders and curled into a ball on the bed, his bright eyes peering up at her with concern.
Her hands began to tremble and her jaw shivered. So much had happened. So much had changed. In one day, she had
found her dream man, been rejected, seduced and then, in a cruel twist, rejected again.
Not to mention she had been witness to an unknown pair of arguing lovers.
She patted Triu-cair’s head, then stripped off her dress and tossed it on the floor before collapsing on the bed in exhaustion. “Cadedryn did not know who I was,” she whispered mournfully, the lovers temporarily forgotten. “He thinks I am two people.”
Kassandra rolled onto her stomach and buried her head in the pillow, lying in torment until the sounds coming from the great hall died away as the revelers finally took to their beds. She tossed and turned, willing her body to sleep, but her mind remained stubbornly alert. Every inch of her body thrummed with sensations and her thighs ached with the echoes of innocent desire.
At last, she kicked the covers violently, then punched the pillow with surprising force.
Triu-cair squawked awake.
“I cannot meet him again,” she abruptly declared as she stood and strode over to the vanity table and placed her hands on either side. “He has already declared that he will never bond with me. There is nothing I can do to change his mind, and seeing him again will only make my heart bleed. Before, I longed to link our spirits. Now I . . .” She started jamming pins into her hair to bind it against her head. “I don’t know what I want.” Her body tingled and she could not erase the feeling of his hands upon her shoulders. She did know what she wanted, and that it was much more than he was willing to give.
Triu-cair screeched and banged his tiny hands on the blankets as Kassandra lifted her black wig and jammed it in place. After spreading a quick layer of paste across her face, she retrieved a cape and slid Triu-cair into an inner pocket.
“I waited for him for ten years,” she said as she flung some clothes in a bag and lugged it to the door. She opened the portal and peered down the hallway. “I rejected all others because I wanted him, but he knows nothing of me. He is not waiting for me. Instead, his aspirations are focused on his rotten title,” she told Triu-cair in a hushed voice.
She hefted her makeshift satchel and struggled down the passageway until she reached the stairs. She looked dubiously down the long flight, then at her bundle as she nudged it with her foot.