Page 65
And so, in darkness disturbed only by the smudges of campfires, he made his way between tents and men sleeping outside on the ground and dark outlines of sentinels by the fires.
Finally he reached the ladies’ pavilion, its dark-red cloth black in the night. He may have stumbled and almost fell a few times… He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even sure why he’d come to the pavilion. But it was like a flame, and he was a goddamn moth about to burn himself. The uisge only made him want to be with her more. It didn’t dull anything.
When he touched the red canvas, the tent was quiet. He could smell something feminine around it, something flowery and clean. Even in his drunken mind, he knew barging into a women’s pavilion at night was a bad idea.
And, really, he should get back to his bedroll next to Colum by the fire.
But he lingered. The cloth of the pavilion was rough and dusty under his fingers… He hadn’t realized he was touching it.
“Anna!” Her name came out before he realized he was saying it. “Anna!” he whisper-yelled louder.
There was a rustle behind the cloth wall, and he waited, holding his breath. He looked around. Somewhere in the absolute blackness of the sky, distant fires flickered, and he knew they were the sentinels on top of Stirling Castle. From the small tent nearby, a man’s snore reached its thundering climax and stopped abruptly, then resumed a few moments later.
The entrance to the pavilion shifted, and a dark figure came out. He couldn’t see the face, but he knew it was her; he’d have known her out of a billion people. The way her shoulders angled, the proud, graceful bend of her neck.
“It’s me,” he whispered loudly.
“David?” She hurried a few steps from around the corner of the pavilion. A weak glow fell on her now from the nearest campfire, and he could see her face. And suddenly he didn’t need any light to see. The very air brightened around him and vibrated. She furrowed her pretty arched brows, and he ached to reach out and kiss that crease in her skin away. She was holding a blanket around her shoulders.
“I wish I was that blanket,” he said and only then realized he’d spoken out loud.
She blinked her big, dark, tilted eyes and hastily looked around. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah…well…no. Did I wake you?”
“Nae, I couldna sleep. What’s wrong?”
“You’re marrying another man. That’s what’s wrong.”
She didn’t say anything for a few beats, just looked at him, breathing. And if he was right, she swayed just an inch towards him.
“Ye kent this all along,” she said slowly. “We both ken we have nae future. We never did and we never will.”
She was right. But it still pierced his heart like a bullet. He wished it wasn’t true.
“I still want you.”
There was a camp of warriors around them, men who’d kill him on sight for looking at the king’s daughter the wrong way. And yet, he reached out and cupped her face. The moment his skin touched hers, a flash of tingles shot through him.
Her eyelids lowered over her darkening eyes, her lips parting. She felt that, too.
In one movement, he took her into his arms and kissed her. God, her mouth… The taste of her, the succulent taste of her that was all softness and sweetness, and yet the feel of her body was strong in his arms.
She clung to him, her arms wrapped tight around his waist, her fingertips digging into his back, and he wanted more of her. He wanted her legs pressing around his hips, her heat around him, her sleek, tight depths…
She gave out a groan as he deepened the kiss…
And then he felt a push and she was gone from his embrace.
“What are ye doing?” she whispered angrily, panting.
Her blanket had fallen on the ground and lay in a heap around her feet. She leaned down and picked it up and wrapped it around herself.
Her absence was like a black hole. He took a step forward, unable to stand the distance between them. “Anna…”
She took a step back away from him. “Ye’re drunk, are ye nae?”
He hung his head and felt strands of his hair fall around his face. He dragged his fingers through his hair, looking straight at her.
