By Love Enslaved (25 page)

Brendan readily sensed when Dana became as desperate for them to become one as he. He was also clever enough to grab her wrists with one hand as he pushed his breeches down and shifted his position into the classic one for possession. He had never slept with a virgin, and when his first gentle probings revealed an inviting snugness, he pushed forward, seeking to make the pristine recesses of her beautifully formed body welcome the full length of his now throbbing shaft. It was not merely her flesh which resisted him, but Dana herself as well. She tried to pull back, but Brendan held her fast. He knew he could make up later for whatever pain he caused her now, and with a forceful lunge he put an end to her innocence and buried himself deep within her womanly core.

The first twinge of pain as her body refused to immediately accommodate his brought Dana to her senses. As swiftly as the deathly chill of his wet skin had ended her wonderfully erotic dream, her present torment shocked her into the full realization of what she was about to do, but there was no escape. Brendan held her too securely, and his weight kept her in place while he was able to move at will. With an insistent thrust, he swiftly claimed what should have been her husband’s right, and robbed of the pride the gift of her virtue would have been, Dana felt only shame. She had blindly followed an unreasoning passion to its natural end and in doing so had selfishly betrayed her own honor.

Brendan lay still within her, fighting his own need for fulfillment as he waited for the tension that filled his lovely partner to subside. He raised himself up slightly to speak. “It’s no wonder that you were frightened. I imagine all women are the first time they make love, but you’ll enjoy it the next time.”

Fright did not begin to describe how Dana felt. She wanted to scream and bite and kick. No action seemed too desperate to her if it would make him stay away from her forever. To make even the slightest noise, she would need to draw a breath, though, and she felt incapable of doing even so little as that.

Because he could not recall ever finding Dana speechless, Brendan leaned down to kiss her. “You wanted me,” he whispered persuasively. “Do not say that you didn’t, because you did.”

Oh, yes, she had. Dana could not deny nor pretend that she hadn’t. That was the cause of her shame. Erik and Berit loved each other, but what did she and Brendan share? Nothing but a senseless passion that had robbed her of all sense of pride and self-respect. The man did not love her, and never would. They were as different as any man and woman could possibly be. Enemies, that’s all they were, and what they would always remain.

Brendan was in no mood to talk, and because nothing he had said had made any impact on Dana, he lowered his mouth to hers and began to move his hips with a gentle rhythm, creating a pattern of thrusts that were alternately shallow and deep. He wanted her to respond with the wild delight he knew she possessed, but he was determined to take his own pleasure, even if she denied him the compliment of hers.

At first Dana felt only a cool numbness, but soon Brendan’s motions brought an alluring warmth that enticed her ravaged emotions, then conquered her resistance, and finally yielded another joyous surrender. She clung to him then, wanting him, needing him, and the heat of her desire inflamed his until they were borne aloft on a dizzying spiral of rapture. It spun slowly, allowing their spirits to hover on a plateau of ecstasy where they remained entwined in each other’s arms until the first bird nesting nearby sang to greet the coming dawn.

“I must go!” Dana whispered hoarsely, instantly shattering the bliss of their mood. They were surrounded by a shadowy mist, but once the sun had reached the horizon there would be too much light for her to return home safely. With the strength that had deserted her earlier, she shoved Brendan aside and rose to her feet. She grabbed up her nightgown and slipped it on over her head, then her cloak. She ran to get Sky Dancer, but Brendan blocked her way before she could mount him.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me good-bye?” he asked as he raked his curls off his forehead. It had been a simple matter for him to dress as well, since he had not bothered to remove either his breeches or boots before their passionate encounter.

Thinking the request absurd, Dana looked away quickly. “There isn’t time. I don’t dare be late, and neither do you.”

Insulted that she would again order him about after the intimacy they had shared, Brendan reached out to grab her arm and yanked her around to face him. “Are you ashamed of me? Is that it? You’re ashamed because you gave yourself to a thrall?”

The teasing light that had filled his eyes only moments before was gone now, replaced with the hostile gleam she despised. “Ashamed of you?” she repeated distractedly. He was not only handsome, but bright and clever. No woman would be ashamed of a lover who gave the abundant pleasure he did. Forcing herself to look at him squarely, she told him the truth.

“I am ashamed there is no love between us. I can’t forgive myself for that.”

Brendan thought the continually perplexing redhead daft, for the overpowering attraction that flowed between them far surpassed the thrill of love, in his estimation. This was no time to argue the point, however, and he made no effort to do so. “Wait,” he said instead. Going to pick up his kirtle, he hurried back and smoothed it out on Sky Dancer’s back.

“This is not the morning for you to ride a white horse without a blanket.”

Dana blushed deeply as he gave her a boost onto Sky Dancer’s back, for she understood precisely what he meant. She had neither the means nor time to wash away the evidence of their passion, but she had no desire to leave telltale stains on the snowy white stallion’s glossy hide. Taking a firm hold on the reins, she urged the horse past Brendan, but he called out after her.

“Remember, whenever Erik meets Berit, you will be with me.”

Shocked by the demand, Dana turned back to give him a withering glance, but she did not refuse to meet him. She would only talk with him the next time, though. She promised herself that. With a flick of her reins she encouraged Sky Dancer to gallop toward home, never once recalling that riding the splendid horse was forbidden.

When she reached the stable, Dana led Sky Dancer out into the pasture and quickly removed his bridle and Brendan’s kirtle. That the pale blue garment bore dark stains proclaiming the loss of her virtue didn’t surprise her, but she didn’t have time to either launder or burn it now. After hanging the stallion’s bridle on its hook, she wadded the borrowed kirtle into a ball and hid it beneath the straw in Shadow’s stall. The gelding was on the far side of the woods with Erik, so she doubted the stable boys would bother to clean his stall, and she could retrieve the kirtle later after she had decided what to do with it.

She dashed across the yard, then reentered her house on tiptoe just as she had left it. She heard the clang of a pot lid from the kitchen, and grateful to have escaped the notice of an early-rising servant, she returned to her sleeping chamber. With a rag and a pitcher of water, she removed all traces of Brendan’s possession from her body, if not her mind, sprinkled herself liberally with perfume, then returned to bed. Having rested only briefly all night, she was asleep almost instantly.

In midmorning Freya dashed into her daughters’ room. Thora was already up and outside playing, but it was Dana she needed to see. “Wake up,” she cried as she gave the young woman’s shoulder a frantic shake.

That she had overslept was obvious from her mother’s worried frown, but Dana needed a moment or two to recall why. Then, mortified by the memory of the way she had spent the night, she sat up quickly and shoved her long curls out of her eyes. “Yes, Mother, what is it?”

“The stable boys just found one of Erik’s kirtles in his horse’s stall. It’s stained, and I’m terrified something awful has happened to him.”

Dana was stricken with sharp pangs of guilt as she watched huge tears well up in her mother’s eyes, and she hastened to ease her fears. “I’m sure nothing’s wrong. Neither of the stable boys is particularly bright. They’ve probably found an old kirtle that Erik had used as a rag to clean his saddle. Give me a few moments to dress and I’ll speak with them.”

Freya dried her tears on the back of her hand. “I hope you’re right, but the kirtle didn’t look old, and I’m sure it’s stained with blood. What if someone attacked Erik? He might have been seriously hurt, and the culprit dragged him away. I’ve already sent one of the boys out to the new house to see if he’s there, but I’m dreadfully afraid he won’t be.”

Dana had hoped to find a way to allay her mother’s fears, but now she was more worried Erik would recognize the kirtle with the suspicious stains as one he had loaned to Brendan. Would he then accuse him of loitering around their house and stable at night? Would he be clever enough to guess she was the one the handsome thrall had come to see?

That wretched possibility forced her to take immediate charge of the potentially disastrous situation, and Dana rose from her bed. “Let me see the kirtle. If Erik was badly hurt, it ought to be torn or slashed full of holes. Is it?”

“Well, no, I don’t think so.”

Dana followed her mother out into the main hall, and after briefly examining the kirtle, she dismissed the slight stains as insignificant. Not wanting anyone else to have the opportunity to look at it closely, she handed the soiled garment to the woman who did their wash and told her to launder it immediately. “I think we used that as a rag the night Light of Dawn’s foal was born. Obviously it got mislaid rather than washed.”

Feeling very foolish, Freya sat down and shook her head sadly. “Of course, why didn’t I realize that myself?”

Dana bent down to give her mother a kiss on the cheek. “The fault is mine. I should have been up, and then I would have been the one to handle this. Your mistake was a natural one since you seldom visit the stable and have no idea what might be found there.”

“But I thought Brendan was very good at keeping the stable neat,” Freya remarked with a puzzled frown.

“I thought he was too,” Dana agreed, easily telling another lie, “but obviously he has his faults. Now I think I’ll get dressed before Erik arrives so I don’t have to speak with him in my nightgown.”

Dana didn’t draw a deep breath until she reached her room. She hadn’t been thinking clearly that morning or she wouldn’t have carelessly left the evidence of her indiscretion where anyone could find it. Too much had happened in too short a space of time. That was the problem. Things were happening much too fast, and she would have to slow them down, but before she could take any steps in that regard, the situation grew more complicated as Grena arrived with Berit and the twins.

Dana emerged from her room to find Freya disclosing the morning’s stressful incident to her sister and niece. While Grena dismissed Freya’s concern for Erik’s possible injuries with the usual lack of regard she showed for the young man, Berit’s ghostly pallor made her feelings all too plain. Grabbing her cousin’s hands, Dana pulled her to her feet.

“Let’s go outside. The day is too lovely to spend indoors.” Not waiting for her mother and aunt to follow, Dana laced her arm in Berit’s and drew her out through the kitchen and into the yard. “Nothing’s happened to Erik,” she confided, “but it soon will if you don’t make more of an effort to hide your feelings when his name is mentioned.”

“Your mother said it was all a misunderstanding, but I couldn’t help but worry about him still. I didn’t expect to see him this morning, and now knowing that he’ll come home—”

“Berit,” Dana cautioned sternly, “you must treat him as you always have. Now let’s go sit out under the oak tree and pretend we’ve nothing on our minds but passing a pleasant day.”

Brendan had not had the option of sleeping late, and was at work stripping branches from a tree they had felled that morning when the stable boy arrived looking for Erik. After speaking with the dark-haired Dane briefly, the boy had waited for him to saddle Shadow, and the pair had then departed at a gallop.

Not liking the looks of what appeared to be a hasty summons home, Brendan planted his ax in the tree trunk and sat down to think. It did not surprise him that most of the other men followed his example and ceased working too, for Erik had left no one in charge in his absence.

The muscular Celt’s first thought was that Dana had sent for Erik, but he refused to torture himself with the imagined horror of a whipping, as he had the last time he and the willful redhead had parted angrily. He had had all morning to contemplate the sorry fact that nothing had changed between them, despite the incredible beauty of the night they had shared. The darkness of her parting glance had convinced him of that. He had obviously expected more than a woman with her pride would give, but that she had mentioned love had confused him completely. His life was already in her hands. Would she not be satisfied until she had his heart as well?

He would truly be her slave then, but he would not succumb to that humiliation. No, he would never admit what he felt for her was love. Were they in his land rather than hers, then it would not matter what pretty promises he made, but here it most certainly did. Because Dana had never beaten him, he knew she would not do so now. Indeed, how could she punish him without revealing knowledge about herself she would not want anyone to know?

If Dana had not sent for Erik, then who had? he wondered. Was Freya ill or had Grena discovered he and Berit were in love? Brendan was full of questions, but sadly he could do nothing but wait anxiously for Erik to return with the answers.