From her high refuge she heard the chains that lifted the ramparts, opening the fortress of her protection, the stronghold that guarded her heart. Spurs scraping metal on stone as he took the stairs to reach her, rang out with his fierce intention. She knew he would not, could not waste a minute more to hold her, bury his need in her until they both cried out in their joining. The scents of leather, sweat and musky male melted her bones and she leaned into him to keep from falling. Sapphire flames searched her face. Long fingers traced the line of her jaw and traveled to her neck where her pulse beat in counterpoint to her panting breaths. “It has been too long Muirnín.” His whisper settled like a butterfly’s wing on her ear. “I want you now, Katie...”

“Katie… wake up sleepin’ beauty, it’s supper time.”
Brandon sat on the bed and brushed her hair out of her face. “I’m sorry, I meant to wake you sooner.”

“Oh…oh dear… I was having this dream.” My God, what a dream. “I thought I was in that castle.” She pointed out the window at the medieval fortress that was now a silhouette in the evening sky. “And, you were there.” How much am I going to tell him? “Well, it was...amazing.”

“It’s called Dungaire.” His fingers combed through her mass of curls. “Do you know you have such beautiful hair? It reminds me of a lioness—like you—wild and unruly.”

She smacked his hand away, dropping the quilt and exposing the rise of her breasts. “Brandon, I’m not dressed.”

He traced the line of her collarbone with one finger. “You might have forgotten, but I’ve seen you in less than this.”