Faolan. She reached up for where the collar of his shirt was open. The fabric was suddenly something nearly unbearable to suffer between them.
She wanted to have her skin pressed to his.
But he suddenly pushed up and away from her. His breath was ragged as he fisted his hands in the bedding on either side of her head.
It hurt.
The rejection sliced her to the bone. Her eyes filled with tears, which were impossible to control. Turning her face aside was the only thing she might do to preserve even a morsel of her dignity.
Faolan touched her face.
“I want to,” Faolan muttered intently.
He lowered his body back onto hers. The contact was jarring, but in a manner that saw her understanding for the first time just how much she was capable of feeling. Never had she suspected she might enjoy a man’s touch so very much. It seemed to penetrate all the way to her bones, leaving her reaching for him once again, in spite of how much his rejection had stung.
He buried his face in her hair, drawing in a lungful of air. She was poised on the edge of something. Whatever it was, Cora felt desperate to discover what lay beyond the level of excitement currently coursing through her. But Faolan moved away again, leaving her feeling desolate and abandoned. His eyes were mere slits when he raised his head above hers.
“Ye are a temptress, Cora, but ye have no place in me life. Ye can nae understand the dangers.”
The bed rocked as he left it. The night air suddenly rushed over her, making her keenly aware of the loss of his heat. But along with his departure came a clearing of her wits. His words penetrated the fog that had obscured her thinking, leaving her very much aware of the judgment he was leveling at her.
He stood with his back to her and his hands clenched. When he turned to look back at her, there was firm resignation on his face.
“Ye are so very tempting in that bed. I want to join ye very much, but the circumstances of me life do nae allow me such comforts.”
“Life is hard for many, Faolan.” Cora swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood. “Ye have no right to judge me as having had everything handed to me.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “While ye have been running free, able to indulge yer whims, Cora, I have been fighting to stay alive. You have never wondered where yer next meal is coming from.”
“Aye, I ran free,” Cora replied. “Because no one bothered to mind where I was. My mother died, and me brother was too young to know he should have assigned someone to me. It might sound like a dream, but it was a very lonely one. I learned that no one wanted to be responsible for me because I was already betrothed, and there was naught to gain by grooming me. I was left to find me way as I would for the years until I was sent away for the alliance it would gain.”
His eyebrows lowered as she spoke.
“Mind ye, I am no’ complaining. Being ignored meant I witnessed a great deal,” she continued. “I’ll not be sorry for tasting life either. It seemed a better choice than sitting about feeling sorry for meself. Do ye know how hard it was for me to convince the stable master to teach me to ride? He made me shovel out the stalls every day and night for an entire season before he’d allow me to even ask him. Then I had to wax and polish all the saddles through the winter.”
“Every lad does so,” Faolan remarked. “Where else would ye gain the strength to sit in the saddle? Or the strong fingers and hands to control the reins?”
“Aye,” she agreed. “I learned that after I was riding and some of the other girls got the notion to try it.”
Faolan chuckled, and Cora smiled at him.
“Well, I’ll admit ye would no’ have been able to ride if ye had no’ earned the right by building the strength, lass.”
“Why then do ye judge me as too weak to be yer wife?” Cora hadn’t realized she’d meant to ask the question so bluntly. It opened her up to be rejected again, yet the words were across her lips before she ever considered them.
“I am laird by some unknown twist of fate, Cora.” Faolan stepped closer to her. “Do nae