“Goddess…” Cuchulainn choked out the word.

Brighid wiped a shaky hand over her face. “I should have told you before. I should have told someone before…I just didn’t…” She looked wildly at his face as if she could find redemption there. “All I could think to do was to get away from that life. To change my future and to try not to look back. But I understand. Now that you know you might…might not be able to stay with me…might not want to care about me and-”

“Stop!” Cuchulainn’s voice was sharp as he grabbed her arm. “I’m not going to leave you. What they did was not your fault. What they are today is not your fault. By the Goddess, do you think I’d let you go back into that alone?”

“I don’t know what I think. I’ve never told anyone. Didn’t think I ever could. And now I’ve told you. My husband. My husband who is a man.” Her breath hitched on a sob. “What dream were we living when we thought we could be together? How can this possibly work?”

In an instant Cuchulainn had swiveled to his knees and was facing her. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. She stiffened, feeling the oddness of his torso against hers-the unfamiliar sensation of the muscular width of him that was just man and not melded with the equine body of a centaur male. He ignored her stiffness and didn’t relinquish his hold on her. When he spoke he turned his head so that his voice was a warm breath against her ear.

“It will work because we are bonded, the two of us. Because somehow, miraculously, Epona fashioned your soul to match mine. We are not defined by our bodies alone, Brighid. You and I know that only too well.”

“It seems impossible,” she said.

“No. It’s not impossible-it’s just difficult.”

She pulled back, and this time he loosened his hold on her so that she could look into his eyes. “How can you be so sure? I’m from a different world. We’re different species. We can’t even consummate our mating tonight.”

“My father is a centaur, Brighid. Don’t forget that I have his blood running thick in my veins. We’re more alike than we are different.”

“But your body is human.”

“That it is.” He sighed and rested back on his heels, letting his hands slide down her arms. “Does that repulse you?”

Brighid frowned at him, hearing the echo of his sister’s words in his voice. “Of course not! How could you even ask me that? I wouldn’t have handfasted with you if you repulsed me.”

“There are many different reasons to handfast. Physical attraction is not always one of them,” he said. “You mated with me. That does not automatically mean that you’re attracted to me.”

Her frown deepened. “I’m attracted to you. You’re not like most men.”

His brows shot up. “I can assure you that I am very much like most men.”

Brighid felt her cheeks heating. “I didn’t mean that you’re not…uh…not…”

“Yes…” He drew the word out. “Go on. I’m not what?”

Her frown turned into a scowl. He certainly wasn’t making this any easier for her. “Most men seem too small.”

His brows disappeared completely into his hairline. She shook her head, trying to figure out how to explain it to him without sounding patronizing or offensive.

“Remember the first day we met? You were with El and Brenna in the Main Courtyard of MacCallan Castle. You’d just uncovered the fountain.”

“I remember,” he said. “You said you were of the Dhianna Herd and I may have reacted badly to that.”

“May have?” She snorted. “You wanted El to kick me out. You were defensive and overprotective of your sister.” Before he could protest, she hurried on. “And I thought you were intriguing. You weren’t some small, weak man. You were a warrior, and everything you said and did was filled with such confidence and power that I never thought of you as just a man. From the first I’ve thought of you as a warrior, without the label of ‘centaur’ or ‘man.’”

“So you didn’t hate me on sight?”

“No. I just disliked you.” His amused expression made her smile. “But part of me agreed with you. Had I been another member of my herd, you would have been wise not to trust me.”

“I learned to trust you,” he said.

“And I you.”

“Don’t you see that that’s it, Brighid? Our relationship is based on trust and respect, which grew into friendship.” Slowly he took one of his hands from hers and lightly, just using the tips of his fingers, retraced the path up her arm to the roundness of her shoulder. He felt her skin prickle under his fingers and he heard the sharp intake of her breath. “And then that friendship changed. I’m not even certain when.” In a long, slow caress, he drew his hand across her shoulder until he found the softness at the base of her throat. There he let his thumb trace a light, sensuous pattern along her delicate collarbone. “I remember how the part of my soul that came into your dreams teased and kidded with you. You thought I was playing…only pretending desire for you…” His thumb moved to the hollow of her neck and he felt her pulse beating fast and hard against the smoothness of her skin. “It was no pretense. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. And I don’t care what form your body takes. I will always desire you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

All Brighid could do was stare at him. She was trapped by his slow, intimate caress. For all the strength of her body, this one gentle touch had completely unnerved her.

“May I ask you something?” he said, stroking his thumb up and down the sensitive skin of her neck.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“After we kissed in your room when you breathed my soul back into my body, did you ever think of touching me? Of me touching you?”

“Yes.”

“What did you think?”

She wet her lips with her tongue and saw his eyes go hungrily to her mouth. “I thought about your hands on my body, and I wondered what it would be like to touch you in return.”

“If you touched me now you wouldn’t have to wonder,” he said.

Hesitantly she lifted the hand that he had so recently been holding, and touched his hair.

“I’m glad you cut it again,” she said. “I like it short.”

“Then I will always keep it short.”

She touched his cheek, and quickly pulled her hand away. Then, with a self-conscious little laugh she touched it again, rubbing the back of her knuckles along the roughness of his day-old beard.

“Centaurs don’t have facial hair,” she said.

“I know. I’ve told my father many times that I envy the fact that he doesn’t have to bother with shaving.”

“It feels strange,” she said. Her eyes lifted hastily to meet his. “Not bad strange, just different strange.”

He smiled. “You’ve already told me that I don’t repulse you. You’re not going to upset me by telling me that there are things about my body that seem strange to you. I don’t want you to be afraid to tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Agreed. But you have to tell me what you’re thinking, too.”

“Right now I’m thinking that your skin is so soft and smooth that it feels like water-hot water. I can feel the heat of you from here. Logically I know that’s because you’re a centaur and your body generates more heat than mine. But when I get this close to you, logic leaves my mind and all I can think is that I want to be consumed by your heat.”

She knew he could feel how his words made her pulse leap under his fingers. His voice was as seductive as his touch and she couldn’t stop her hand from moving to his chest. He was wearing a simple white linen shirt and a kilt made of the familiar MacCallan plaid, the end of which was thrown over his right shoulder. Her hand strayed to the plain round brooch that held it in place. Before her skittering thoughts could stop her, Brighid took her other hand from his and unpinned the brooch. Carefully, she pulled the plaid from his shoulder. Then she unlaced the front of his shirt, so that it fell open, exposing his muscular chest.