Page 40

Chapter

H e’d not lured the woman out here to ravage her.

In fact, anything but. He wished to be honest with Maisie about the reason for his stay at her inn.

And there was a part of him that wished to share his story as well, if he were being honest. And yet, thinking of her marrying a man such as her husband, Maisie clearly having been turned away from being with a man because of it . . .

He wanted to show her it need not be that way.

“Have you been with another man besides your husband?” A cheeky question, to be certain. But with that one step toward him, Maisie had confirmed her attraction to him. One he’d matched with his own since the moment they had met.

“Nay,” she said, her chin rising.

“Surely you’ve been kissed before him though, aye?”

She shook her head.

“No stolen kisses at all? A stable boy? None bold enough to express his interest in you? Surely this cannae be so. You are a very beautiful woman, Maisie. As I’m certain you’ve been told many, many times.”

She hardly moved at all now, but Maisie did continue to look up at him without breaking her gaze. “My father was very careful not to leave me alone with any boy. Or man. He worried, because of my visage . . .” She trailed off.

“He worried for good reason, I am certain.”

No man had kissed her. None besides a horrid husband, at least.

Kieran stirred at the thought of it. At being the first to give a woman such as Maisie her first real kiss.

But the very desirable thought had little to do with whether or not it was a good idea.

In fact, there was little to recommend the thought besides the pleasure he, or both of them, would get from it.

If he kissed her, he’d wish to do it again. Of that, Kieran was certain. And kissing Maisie each time he came back to the Red Stag would lead down a path neither of them wished for.

“I have been told that many times,” she said, addressing his earlier thought. “But this is the first time the words have affected me in such a way.”

Dammit.

He’d been just about to begin walking. Had been about to congratulate himself on mustering the discipline to walk away. Until she said that.

“In what way?” he found himself asking, already knowing the answer.

“In such a way,” she said, “that makes me forget my vow.”

Though he suspected it already, Kieran asked, “What vow?”

Her answer was immediate. “To never be with another man again. To never give myself over to someone who might control me the way my husband did.”

Dammit, again.

His desire to show Maisie not all men were like her husband was too strong to ignore. Surely one quick kiss would not bring either of them too far down a path they did not desire to travel.

He took a step toward her.

Maisie held steady.

“I say the words because they are true.”

Maisie tilted her head up even farther. Her eyes told him all that Kieran needed to know. She wanted this. Perhaps as badly as he.

Another step.

“I’m going to kiss you, Maisie.”

She blinked. “I know.”

With one final step, he reached out with his thumb and forefinger and lifted her chin. She was so close, their chests touched. Kieran stared at her lips. So lush and full. Lips he’d wanted to taste from the first moment he saw them.

Saw her.

He would be gentle. Much more so than his body demanded. As his head lowered, so much of him wanted to descend on her. Capture her mouth. Devour her.

Make love to her.

Of course, he would not do that. She was as much a virgin as a woman who’d not yet known a man. Being with one such as her husband was worse than the unknown.

Kieran could feel her breath, their mouths were so close now. He pulled her by the chin toward his lips, and their first touch was better than he could have imagined.

So soft.

He pressed, wanting to run his tongue along the crease of her lips to open them wide, but also, not wanting to startle her. So instead, he simply touched his lips to hers, moaning when she made a soft sound of pleasure deep in her throat.

Kieran’s good intentions fled when Maisie’s arms wrapped around him, pulling their bodies together. He did allow his tongue to wander then, and though Maisie seemed unsure how to react at first, she opened for him.

And Kieran did not hesitate from there. His mouth widened, head slanted, and his tongue sought entry, attempting to show her what he wanted. When Maisie finally did ken, the first touch of her own tongue hesitant, she knew not what to do, confirming her earlier words.

She may have had a husband, but this was, in many ways, the woman’s first kiss.

Kieran meant to take it slow, but as their tongues touched, he wanted more. Needed more.

Took more.

Swirling tongues, their mouths now well-matched, in very little time Maisie fully learned. Kieran’s hands dropped from her chin as he pulled her by the shoulders even closer. Their bodies pressed tightly together, the kiss continued.

He took, and received. Maisie did the same.

Another of those sounds, and Kieran was undone. Soon he’d be stripping the woman bare in an effort to see more. Feel more. The desire to be inside her grew too strong.

He pulled away. Though not completely, as the pair remained in each other’s arms.

“That was a proper kiss,” Maisie said, her lips wet and swollen.

He smiled at the sight. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Very much. Though I am uncertain if ‘tis kissing I like or . . . kissing you.”

Honesty would not keep the distance between them that Kieran knew instinctively was necessary, but he gave it to her anyway.

“It was an extraordinary kiss,” he admitted. “You are an extraordinary woman.” He could feel her shiver between them. “You’re cold. Let us return to the inn.”

Reluctantly, he let her go.

“I do not believe the cold is what made me shiver,” she admitted as they began to walk.

“Nay?” he teased. “What do you believe caused it then?”

“Sir,” she teased back. “You would force me to say such a thing aloud?”

“I would,” he said, laughing.

“Hmm. Well, I willnae.”

“Nay?”

“Nay.”

“Ahh, then I shall say it for you. ‘Tis desire, Maisie.”

“Desire,” she murmured. “There was a boy, a farmer’s son, I thought was most handsome. Fancied myself in love with him.”

Kieran attempted to concentrate on her words, but each time he glanced at the woman walking beside him, he thought of the kiss they’d just shared. How responsive she’d been. How much he enjoyed kissing her.

Desire. Aye, powerful indeed. Too much so.

“How many summers had you seen?”

“Nearly twenty. There had been boys, of course, who had proclaimed their love to me.”

He laughed. “Of course. I would imagine many had done so.”

“But this particular boy . . .” She sighed. “It matters not. My father would not have me take a farmer’s son as a husband. He said, ‘Your beauty will bring this family coin yet.’ And it did.”

Kieran hoped he never met Maisie’s father.

For his sake.

“I thought him handsome. But I cannae say I ever felt . . . that before.”

“Perhaps if you’d kissed him?” Kieran ventured, none too pleased to imagine Maisie kissing another man.

“Perhaps.” She looked up at him. “And perhaps not.”

They slowed their pace. “Maisie,” he said, needing to be sure she understood. “I would very much like to kiss you again. Right this moment, in fact. But . . .” He paused.

“But you will be gone from the Red Stag soon enough,” she finished.

“Aye.”

“And have much else to consider besides an entanglement with an innkeeper.”

Even though her words were true, hearing her say so did not please him. He was about to tell her so when she finished.

“And I have a vow to keep.”

Her vow.

“Our kiss dinnae dissuade you from it?”

Her bitter laugh, so at odds with the woman he had begun to know, unsettled him.

“I will never take another husband,” she said emphatically. “Never.”

Kieran would point out marriage vows were not needed to share a kiss, but he chose to remain silent. He’d been with widows before, but Kieran had never bedded a virgin nor ever intended to, besides his future wife. But Maisie was different.

Very different.

She was not the sort of woman to bed and leave.

“No more kisses,” he said, knowing It was a good plan.

“No more kisses,” she agreed as the inn came into view. With a final glance up at him through her thick lashes, Maisie smiled one final time. But this was a different sort of smile. A sad one, as if knowing was almost worse than not knowing.

It mattered little.

What was done, was done. And he’d not will it back even if he could. Even if knowing Maisie’s lips beneath his own were not going to make his stay at the Red Stag any easier.

In fact, quite the opposite.