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Authors: Ria Cantrell

BOOK: Celtic Fury
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As if sensing her loneliness, a large brindle horse approached Brielle and he nudged her with his head, nickering softly. Brielle laughed and stroked down the bridge of his nose.

“My, aren’t ye a beauty!”  The horse nudged her again and she patted his neck. He tossed his head and whinn
i
ed. “Yes, ye’ are a magnificent boy. I have something fer’ ye.” She pulled a carrot from the fold of her skirt and she held it out to the horse. She laughed again as he gently ate out of her hand.

“I bet ye are a fast one. Would ye let me ride ye?”  The horse tossed his head again as if to say yes.

Brielle looked around and in seeing no one to stop her, she climbed up the fence and deftly straddled the horse, tucking her skirts through her legs. She didn't see any harm in taking a short ride on this beautiful animal. She had ridden bareback frequently as a young girl. The horse didn’t seem fazed by it.

She patted his neck and said, “Good boy. Thank you for being patient.” She settled herself on top of the horse and she dug her heels gently into his flanks. He trotted off, as she held on to his neck. It felt so good to be riding again. As the horse began to canter, her hood fell back and she felt the wind on her face. All anger dissipated as the horse carried her in an exciting run. It was glorious and exhilarating and she barely felt the soreness and the stiffness from her accident.

Brielle felt more alive than she had in months. She saw an open clearing and she leaned lower against the horse’s neck, urging him to go faster. She could feel the muscles of the magnificent beast bunching to run at full gallop. As the animal ran, Brielle squealed in delight; holding on to his mane and using her knees to stay seated. It was the most light-hearted she had felt in quite some time. For this brief time, it was just rider and horse, and it felt liberating and wonderful. Brielle was thoroughly enjoying herself and she laughed with the joy of a child forgetting about her troubles with Rory; forgetting even that she was angered with him.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Rory had wandered out of the keep, lost in his brooding thoughts. He thought he had barely slept a wink, so focused was he on that girl sleeping in the next room. He had successfully avoided her for the past week, but he was no closer to coming to terms with his feelings about her. He sighed heavily. Avoiding her was not the answer. He would have to talk to her eventually. He was going to leave for Edinburgh in another week or so and if nothing else, he had to apologize to her. He knew a good ride on his destrier would help clear his head. The horses were in pasture at this time of the day, so he wandered carelessly to the meadow.

Rory stopped in his tracks at the scene before him. That crazy wild girl w
as riding the brindle stallion;
the horse, which hadn’t been properly broken…Bareback! 

“Bloody feckin hell,” he cursed out loud. She was going to get herself killed. What madness was this? She was actually laughing.

Rory whistled for his stallion and he leapt onto its back effortlessly. He was used to guiding his horse without reins, as he had been trained as a warrior to do. He expected the girl to be terrified as she hung low onto the horse’s neck, riding at a break-neck pace. He was afraid to ride too closely. The brindle had proven to be skittish and he was afraid the presence of his own horse would cause it to rear. Brielle’s little body couldn’t bear another tumble. Her ribs had been pretty close to being broken from the accident.

He called out, “Brielle…”Seeing him, she waved; all quarrels and hurt momentarily forgotten. Then she saw Ruiri's face. He was stricken with fear. Fear for her!

Brielle was certain she was perfectly safe, but she had never seen that look on Rory’s face before. Did he suspect that she was in danger?  She slowed the horse to a trot and approached his great dark war-horse. Rory jumped off the back of his horse and slapped its hindquarters, sending it to trot off on its own. He could not chance spooking the brindle.

“Lass, come down off that beast.”  He looked terrified for her. The horse halted and Rory held out his arms to help her down. She was completely aware of how wonderful it felt to slide down his body as the strength of his arms moved around her, steadying her to her feet.

She felt a strange jolt of energy course through her as her body made contact with his. Time seemed suspended as her arms remained around his shoulders and his hands stilled at her waist. She looked up into his eyes and felt the intensity of his gaze on her. She didn’t see hatred there, only concern and something else; like a smoldering fire. It looked like he was going to kiss her. As he began lowering his head, the horse nudged Brielle, whickering at her. She stroked his nose and put her arms about its neck, hugging the beautiful animal.

She said, “Thank you magnificent boy…for letting me ride you.” 

Rory was astonished. The animal seemed to respond to her voice. The horse that had been completely wild, so wild in fact, that even the grooms were reluctant to handle him, however he was tame when this girl spoke to him. With that, he nudged her again, causing her to stumble into Rory’s hold. Once again, his strong arms caught her. He helped Brielle over the fence and pulled her cloak tighter around her. During her ride, it had slipped open and her gown left the top part of her chest exposed to the chill of the morning.

“Ye’ll catch yer death if ye dunna’ keep warm,” he said awkwardly.

“Well then, that certainly would solve yer dilemma wouldn’t it.” 

His eyes met hers and he said, “That certainly would
not
solve my dilemma.” 

“Well, at least you would not have to keep avoiding me.” Rory’s head bowed and he gently tucked a strand of her hair over her ear.

“I dunna’ wish to avoid ye'. . . anymore.”  There was a certain huskiness in his voice and his fingers stroked the side of her face. Despite the joy he had witnessed moments ago while she had been riding, there was now a look of sadness in her eyes. Of course…he had hurt her and Rory knew he needed to apologize, only he thought what could he possibly say to make things right? 

He
had
acted like the
very
monster he was fabled to be. He spoke softly, saying, “Brielle, I…I am so sorry for what I have done.” Her hand came up and she put her fingers to his lips.

“Shhh. Dunna’ speak of it again. T’is of no matter now.” He was astounded at her kindness. She could have made him pay for what he had done to her, but instead, she dismissed it. That gesture of forgiveness was a powerful antidote to the poison that had destroyed him for so long. So intense was the healing from so simple a touch, yet she gave it easily and without price.

Looking at her, he realized that she was a good and loving soul. She was nothing like those demon spawns that ruined his life all those years ago. In that gesture of forgiveness so easily given, he had realized he had never been able to forgive himself. This girl could teach him to accept the absolution he had denied himself but had so desperately needed.

He cleared his throat again, unable to take his eyes from hers and he said, “How did ye do that…with the horse?” She shrugged.

“I dunna’ know. T’is always that way with me. Seems I can get along far better with beasties than with the human kind,” she stated, with a sad little laugh.

“But that one is unbroken. He is wild and dangerous.”

“Not with me. I dunna’ know why.”

“Ye scared me to death when I saw ye’ riding him. I was afraid ye were going to break yer’ lovely neck.” 

“He was really quite gentle…sometimes the ones that appear most wild are the most gentle and sweet,” she said looking straight into his eyes and he knew she also was referring to the wildness within himself.

“Brielle, I…”

“Ruiri, won’t ye please just kiss me?” 

It was a request she didn’t need to make. He fully intended to kiss her. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. She sank into his embrace and sighed as his mouth touched hers. He held her tightly in his arms, forgetting she was a Campbell; forgetting everything except that he needed her. As their lips parted, she put her hands on both sides of his strong jaw. She reached up on her toes to kiss him of her own will. He grasped her cloak, pulling her closer to him and wrapping them both in it so he could touch her under the heavy wool. Her mouth opened to give his tongue access. He felt her soft little tongue flipping up against his. Desire burst quickly inside him and something else; the healing power of love. Oh, God! He realized he loved her. What he had denied himself for so long finally spilled from his heart. He loved her and he wanted her. He felt himself react, getting hard instantly just as she felt the warm moist heat pool between her legs.

Her arms held tighter around his shoulders and she kissed him deeply, moaning softly as his tongue caressed against hers. It was the most erotic kiss she had ever encountered. She felt the strange reaction of her body as she was wrapped in his arms. She felt her breasts straining against the fabric of her bodice; her nipples peaked and suddenly sensitive. She needed and wanted more; craving his touch. His hand skimmed up her side and rested just under the swell of her breast. His teeth softly tugged at her lower lip. He then lowered his head and began to nibble against her neck. The sensations were sublime. Brielle pressed her body as close as she could to his. She was aware of the thick hardness that nudged into her belly. She actually felt his legs spread, so she fitted herself between them. As his lips found their way back to hers, his hand slowly rose to the top of her bodice. At first, she shivered at the contact of his cool fingers on her skin, but as she felt his hand warm against her, she thought it was the most soothing feeling she had ever known. That was, of course, until his hand slid gently inside the bodice, connecting with her peaked nipple.

She gasped and he looked at her and said, “I won’t hurt ye

, Brielle.”

She nodded, looking into his golden eyes. “I know,” she said, touching his jaw.

“I willna’ rape ye

.” Kissing him, she said, “I know.” Ruiri then said, “But I do want ye

.” Brielle hugged him tightly.

“I want ye

, too, Ruiri.” 

Rory took her hand and he led her to his horse. He put her on to the horse and he leapt up behind her. They rode to the keep. He could feel her leaning into his chest and he whispered tender things against her hair. It felt so right again. Rory was gentle and the romantic things he whispered set Brielle’s heart on fire. She relished every word or soft brush of his lips against her ear. It took them only minutes to make it back to the keep. Rory handed the reins to the stable groom. He helped Brielle down and took her into his arms. He kissed her soundly and she sank into his arms.

“Are ye’ sure about this,” she asked.

“I am sure.” He kissed her again and took her hand, leading her into the keep. Ruiri hooked his arm around her waist. He led her past the main hall. Tables were being set for the midday meal, but few people noticed the couple sneaking off to Rory’s chamber.

They were, however, not unnoticed by Caleb and Morag. They exchanged looks and Caleb said, “Well, well, what happened here?” Morag shrugged. But in her heart she hoped the differences between the clans would finally be put to side and that love would progress between Ruiri and Brielle.

“I will see they are not disturbed.” Caleb winked and said, “Aye they need to be alone.” 

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

When Rory got to the stairs leading up to their chambers, he scooped Brielle up into his arms and carried her; suddenly anxious to be alone with her. Upon entering his room, he kicked the door shut and lowered her to her feet. His fingers unfastened her cloak and she watched it fall to the floor. She felt no fear. She just wanted to touch him and kiss him. Her heart was filled with love, but as she looked into his smoldering eyes, she needed to hear that he would not regret it after the passion passed.

“Ruiri, I am still a Campbell.” 

“Aye, and from what I can see, the best that has ever come from that clan.” Her heart leapt at his words.

Touching his face, she said, “I will still be a Campbell …tomorrow.” 

Rory understood and he said, “And tomorrow I will still be a MacCollum and I suppose if ye

will have me, I can accept who ye

are.”

Brielle threw her arms around him and kissed him so
fiercely, he groaned out loud.
She looked startled at that sound and she searched his face for understanding. He took her hand and guided it to the front of his trewes. She felt the hard evidence of his desire there and she gasped.

“Oh…my…” 

She didn’t want him to think she was afraid, but she was a little nervous, after all. Still, she wanted Ruiri; all of him. Now was not the time to be shy and to act like an untried virgin. With both hands on the side of her face, he kissed her. It made her knees weak.

As much as Rory wanted her, he wanted to savor every moment with her. He had waited and denied himself his feelings for her long enough and now he was going to enjoy every second he held her in his arms. He kissed down her neck, gently biting into her shoulder. She cried out with a ragged sigh of her own. She felt dizzy; as if she had drunk too much wine. Everywhere his fingers or mouth touched sent jolts through her body. She felt his fingers deftly unlacing the back of her gown and she tried not to think about how he had learned to be so skilled at that task.

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