intelligence, and a philosophical disposition as well."
Lochlainn smiled slightly, kissing her hand. "What more could a man
ask for?"
She suddenly looked desolate. "I don't know."
Her pained expression snapped Lochlainn's resolve, and he pulled her
to him for a real kiss on the lips, which deepened as the carriage
lurched on the road. Muireann looped her arms around Lochlainn's
neck and pressed herself against him. Her whole body arched toward
him like a flower opening itself to the vibrant rays of the sun.
Though his hands on her ribs hurt terribly, she needed to feel his
strength and warmth flow through her.
Lochlainn twisted his mouth against hers, devouring her lips, his
tongue exploring the moist cavern of her mouth, mingling with her
own. It was like sipping a heady wine.
Lochlainn's heart hammered in his chest as Muireann hugged him to
her, and ran her fingers through his hair. Tara certainly never
kissed like this, he reflected as his loins tightened alarmingly.
Finally Lochlainn knew he couldn't hold back any longer. If he
didn't stop now, he knew he would try to lift her skirt. That was
completely unthinkable. Muireann was his employer. She needed his
help, not his lovemaking. If he offended her, she could dismiss him
from her service any time she liked.
Suddenly Paddy called down from the driver's box that Enniskillen
was within view. Lochlainn moved away from Muireann to open the
window.
A blast of icy cold air quenched his passion for a moment, and
he let the freezing wind cool his flushed face. Turning to Muireann,
who sat now with her hands pressed tightly in her lap, he said,
"There it is!"
Muireann rose to look out of the window. Despite her mixed emotions
about the kiss she had just shared with Lochlainn, she smiled.
It was lovely. The whole countryside was like a sparkling blue-green
jewel etched with white frost. For a brief moment she was
distracted from her worries. But she knew the kiss had been wrong.
Her only excuse was that the fiery sweetness had carried her away
utterly.
However, her duty lay before her now all too clearly as the coach
pulled into the depot. She was responsible for Barnakilla. Though it
felt like a heavy burden on her shoulders, she knew she would have
to carry the load herself. The utter powerlessness she had felt
after her marriage to Augustine, when she had discovered abruptly
just what a monster he was, had been enough to make her cautious
about putting herself in the hands of any man ever again.
Of course she longed to be held, and comforted. The kisses she and
Lochlainn had shared had been nothing like those she had encountered
before. She had been kissed a number of times in the past, but never
had she felt she was missing out on anything when the kisses had
ended. With Lochlainn, his lips held all sorts of unspoken promises
which she could only guess at.
But to wonder about him in that way would be to court disaster.
Lochlainn was the most handsome, exciting man she had ever met. But
he was her estate agent. She had to trust him with her business
matters. Her growing feelings for him couldn't be allowed to get in
the way of the work that was ahead of them. At any rate, he would
probably be horrified if she admitted that she wanted him
desperately. What would he think of her?
She was certainly aware of the stereotype of the young widow. The
last thing she needed was unnecessary gossip, especially with the
way Augustine had died.
Lochlainn had just been trying to cheer her up, to comfort her in
her time of loss and confusion, she reasoned. She shouldn't be
foolish enough to read anything more into it.
Besides, she had to be strong. Muireann vowed that no matter what,
she would never show how weak she was, and never, ever admit the
awful truth, which she mournfully tried to push to the back of her
mind: she
Lochlainn smiled slightly, kissing her hand. "What more could a man
ask for?"
She suddenly looked desolate. "I don't know."
Her pained expression snapped Lochlainn's resolve, and he pulled her
to him for a real kiss on the lips, which deepened as the carriage
lurched on the road. Muireann looped her arms around Lochlainn's
neck and pressed herself against him. Her whole body arched toward
him like a flower opening itself to the vibrant rays of the sun.
Though his hands on her ribs hurt terribly, she needed to feel his
strength and warmth flow through her.
Lochlainn twisted his mouth against hers, devouring her lips, his
tongue exploring the moist cavern of her mouth, mingling with her
own. It was like sipping a heady wine.
Lochlainn's heart hammered in his chest as Muireann hugged him to
her, and ran her fingers through his hair. Tara certainly never
kissed like this, he reflected as his loins tightened alarmingly.
Finally Lochlainn knew he couldn't hold back any longer. If he
didn't stop now, he knew he would try to lift her skirt. That was
completely unthinkable. Muireann was his employer. She needed his
help, not his lovemaking. If he offended her, she could dismiss him
from her service any time she liked.
Suddenly Paddy called down from the driver's box that Enniskillen
was within view. Lochlainn moved away from Muireann to open the
window.
A blast of icy cold air quenched his passion for a moment, and
he let the freezing wind cool his flushed face. Turning to Muireann,
who sat now with her hands pressed tightly in her lap, he said,
"There it is!"
Muireann rose to look out of the window. Despite her mixed emotions
about the kiss she had just shared with Lochlainn, she smiled.
It was lovely. The whole countryside was like a sparkling blue-green
jewel etched with white frost. For a brief moment she was
distracted from her worries. But she knew the kiss had been wrong.
Her only excuse was that the fiery sweetness had carried her away
utterly.
However, her duty lay before her now all too clearly as the coach
pulled into the depot. She was responsible for Barnakilla. Though it
felt like a heavy burden on her shoulders, she knew she would have
to carry the load herself. The utter powerlessness she had felt
after her marriage to Augustine, when she had discovered abruptly
just what a monster he was, had been enough to make her cautious
about putting herself in the hands of any man ever again.
Of course she longed to be held, and comforted. The kisses she and
Lochlainn had shared had been nothing like those she had encountered
before. She had been kissed a number of times in the past, but never
had she felt she was missing out on anything when the kisses had
ended. With Lochlainn, his lips held all sorts of unspoken promises
which she could only guess at.
But to wonder about him in that way would be to court disaster.
Lochlainn was the most handsome, exciting man she had ever met. But
he was her estate agent. She had to trust him with her business
matters. Her growing feelings for him couldn't be allowed to get in
the way of the work that was ahead of them. At any rate, he would
probably be horrified if she admitted that she wanted him
desperately. What would he think of her?
She was certainly aware of the stereotype of the young widow. The
last thing she needed was unnecessary gossip, especially with the
way Augustine had died.
Lochlainn had just been trying to cheer her up, to comfort her in
her time of loss and confusion, she reasoned. She shouldn't be
foolish enough to read anything more into it.
Besides, she had to be strong. Muireann vowed that no matter what,
she would never show how weak she was, and never, ever admit the
awful truth, which she mournfully tried to push to the back of her
mind: she
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