The wind rushed through the narrow space again, moving against the bells. She shivered at the cold and stood up. Arturo removed his own cloak and set it across her shoulders.
‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘It gives me a reason to hold a beautiful woman,’ he teased, drawing the cloak over her arms. He let his hands linger upon her, and the spicy scent of his skin quickened her blood. For a time, neither spoke, and she drew comfort from the heat of his body.
If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine it was Murtagh standing behind her. That it was his arms upon her shoulders and not a stranger’s. The nearness of him, and the instinct to touch, was dragging her away from reality.
When Brianna turned around, Arturo moved his hands on either side of her. In his sienna eyes, she saw the cloaked desire. He spoke to her in Spanish, words she didn’t understand. But his voice drew her in, blurring the lines she’d drawn around her life.
His hands rested upon the stone, waiting for her decision. Her body already knew the answer, though her mind was crying out for her to stop.
The endless days alone had weighed down upon her, making her no longer feel desirable to any man. But to Arturo, none of it mattered. He’d suffered the same losses she had, and he understood what she didn’t want to admit—that she craved human touch.
Without speaking a word, she went into his arms, resting her cheek against his broad chest. His mouth drifted against her hair in a light kiss. ‘I know, cariño.’
Did he? Did he truly know how difficult it was to reach out to another, feeling as if the ghost of her husband were watching?
‘He wouldn’t have wanted you to live like this. Admit it to yourself.’
She closed her eyes, knowing he spoke the truth. As she tried to pull away from his arms, he held her trapped for a moment. ‘Thank you for showing me this land of yours.’
She nodded, and he released her. As he bent to help her put away the food, he stopped to ask, ‘Were you curious?’
‘About what?’ She tied up the bundle and held it in one hand.
‘What it would have been like to kiss a man who wasn’t your husband?’
She faltered, but then steadied herself, recognising it as a teasing invitation. ‘No.’
‘Liar. I can see how you’re sacrificing yourself to his memory,’ he said softly. ‘Not allowing yourself to feel any happiness at all. You wear clothes without colour, and you don’t smile. You might as well take a step off the edge of this tower, for you seem intent upon letting the rest of your life slip away.’
Anger rushed through her, that he would dare accuse her of this. ‘You don’t know anything about me.’ The bundle slipped from her hands, and the flask of wine spilled upon the stones.
‘You won’t let anyone know you any more. You lock yourself away, don’t you? Because you feel guilty that you’re alive. And he isn’t.’
‘Yes, damn you.’ The anger raged from a place so deep inside, she struggled to control it. And when he dared to pity her, to rest a hand upon her cheek, Brianna was determined to prove him wrong.
She lifted her mouth to his, kissing him hard. Did he think she was a hollow shell with no feelings of her own? The salt of her tears mingled against their lips, but Arturo wasn’t about to let her use him to prove a point. Instead, he softened the kiss, capturing her mouth. Sensual and firm, he commanded the kiss, forcing away her broken memories until she was consumed by him. She let herself fall under his spell, opening to this stranger and finding the parts of her that needed him.
Her arms came around him, and she slid her tongue against his mouth, feeling the rush of heat when he answered her call. He took his time, savouring her mouth, his hands moving up her spine and down to her body. With the softest nudge, he drew her against the heated ridge of his arousal, and she couldn’t stop the shudder of answering desire.
In her mind, she imagined them naked, and what it would be like to be touched by him. To lift her leg over his hip and feel the sweet rush of his body entering hers. To forget the pain of the past and escape all of it for a single night that belonged only to him.
Arturo broke away, his dark eyes feasting upon her. She couldn’t catch her breath, and she sensed that the barest touch from him would send her over the edge, into the release she wanted so badly.
Her lips were bruised, swollen from his kiss. And she hated herself for feeling this way.
Arturo didn’t press Brianna any further, for both of them had the answers they’d sought. He’d sensed that she was a passionate, fierce woman, and he’d not been disappointed. But he wouldn’t push her. There was still hurt and anger inside her, from her husband’s death. He wasn’t going to take advantage of her, not when she was grieving.
He said nothing as they descended from the round tower. When they climbed down the rope ladder, her parents had returned from their own ride. Bevan took note of his daughter’s flushed face and swollen lips. While he made no remark, Arturo knew that there was a silent warning to tread carefully.
‘You’ll dine at Laochre this night, won’t you?’ Genevieve asked. ‘The feast is in honour of Liam and Adriana.’
‘Of course.’ When he bent to help Brianna on to her horse, this time, he lifted her up by the waist. He let his hands rest there for a single moment, and her green eyes flared with caution. Second thoughts had already taken root within her, and he respected her wishes, turning back to his own horse.
Throughout the remainder of the day, Bevan and Genevieve guided him throughout their lands, showing them their estate at Rionallís.
‘Do all of your brothers live nearby?’ he asked Bevan. ‘It seems that you’ve claimed a great deal of land in this region.’
‘Three of my brothers live nearby,’ Bevan agreed. ‘But Connor’s holdings lie further west. He often visits with his wife and children.’ He shielded his eyes against the late afternoon sun, watching over Genevieve and Brianna as they rode ahead.
When they were out of earshot, Bevan drew back to speak with Arturo privately. ‘If you hurt my daughter in any way, you’ll answer to me, Spaniard. She’s been isolating herself for the past few months, and this is the first time I’ve seen her leave Laochre. I won’t have you making her miserable.’
He met the older warrior’s penetrating gaze with his own steadiness. ‘She is a beautiful woman, and we understand each other.’ He saw the darkening disquiet brewing, and he continued, ‘I won’t deny that I wouldn’t mind taking a new wife back to Navarre. But the choice is hers. If she does not care to be courted, I won’t ask for more than she’s capable of giving.’ The words seemed to reassure the man, and he said nothing more.
They arrived back at Laochre Castle after nightfall. More people had arrived, and seeing the vast crowds, Arturo didn’t envy his sister. So many of the MacEgan tribe members were speculating about their wedding, and he knew Adriana loathed being the centre of attention.
Bevan and Genevieve went to speak with the king and queen, while Arturo gave their horses over to a young boy to be stabled. Brianna started to walk home, when he caught up to her. ‘Will you attend the feast this night?’
‘I don’t know,’ she hedged. ‘It’s been a long day and I’m tired.’
He lowered his voice. ‘I won’t apologise for kissing you earlier. But I vow that I won’t press you any further.’
‘It felt wrong,’ she whispered, opening the door to her home. The interior was dark, and after she lit an oil lamp, her breath clouded in the night air. Outside, a few sparse snowflakes drifted upon the wind. Brianna laid a few evergreen boughs over the hearth, and the heady scent of pine filled the room.
He