“A compliment from the sharp-witted Briana Callaghan?” He released her and stepped back.
Laughing, she turned around, her heart giving a twist in her chest at the wide grin spreading across his face.
“Be honest. You knew I was there,” he teased.
Briana smiled, deciding not to correct him.
“Skills such as yours would be invaluable to the Guard.” He stooped to pick up her boots as she walked out of the water.
Unsure whether or not he was still teasing, she shook her head. “Tell that to my brothers.” With only a mournful glance at the lake, she walked with him up the hill.
Careful not to let her gaze stray too long to the chest she found nearly as intriguing as the eyes that matched the night-green forest, she debated how to slip away from him.
“They only seek to protect you,” Lucan said.
“They would see me locked in my room with no more than a loom and my parents for company.”
He laughed, the sound making the cat stir under her skin.
“It’s true.” She playfully bumped him with her arm. “They want adventure and to fight for Avalon, and yet I’m expected to cling to my mother’s skirts like a child.”
“An argument I’d be wise not to disagree with under the circumstances.”
Realizing how ridiculous it was to complain to her brothers’ friend of all people, she pressed her lips together.
“You’re not wrong though,” he offered, his expression far more genuine than even Cian’s whenever her brother indulged her complaints of being left behind. “But better to have a brother who would move all of Avalon to keep you safe, than not have one at all.”
The subtle hint of envy in Lucan’s voice surprised her.
He smiled and gestured in the direction of the meadow. “Or did you wish to stay longer and swim? I’d be happy to stand guard as you did.” His eyes dared her to deny that she’d been spying on him.
“I don’t believe you’re qualified.” At the top of the hill, she slipped her boots back on.
“Next time I’ll make note of the particular skill set required.”
She arched a brow. “Planning to strip down and swim for me again so soon? My brothers did insist you were bolder than I realized.”
“Ah, so the truth comes out.” He turned so that he faced her while walking backward. “You’ve asked them about me.”
“How much ale have you been drinking?”
Laughing, he turned back around in time to barely avoid a collision with a tree limb. His grin faded, though the smile remained in his eyes. “You weren’t even going to warn me about that, were you?”
Hiding her smile, she shrugged, keeping an eye on the path in front of them while they continued toward the tree-line. She tried hard to ignore the urge to sneak glances at him from the corner of her eye, failing far more than she succeeded.
Her attention snagged on another scar that bisected his ear. From training or the battlefield?
“It wasn’t nearly as courageous as you’re probably thinking.” Catching her staring, he curved his lips in a cocky grin.
Unsure whether to be annoyed, she settled on watching her feet instead of his face.
“That night I definitely had too much ale to drink,” he confided. “Cian spooked my horse, and it turned out that I wasn’t in any condition to control the beast.”
“Your horse or Cian?”
He burst out laughing and this time she found herself laughing along with him. Lucan bumped into her, his body soft and hard all at the same time and inviting her to lean closer. Her laughter faded, replaced by the warming twirls of butterflies that heated her stomach to a low simmer.
Lucan’s smile slipped away, his gaze serious and altogether impossible to look away from. For a moment she imagined he was about to step toward her, then he glanced out at the meadow.
Resigned to part ways, she watched people talking, singing and dancing around various fires lighting up the meadow. “Is it too much to ask that you don’t mention this to my brothers?”
“You’re retiring?” Something that mirrored disappointment flashed across his face. “The festival is pretty exhausting.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Then where are you going?”
Words escaped her. Although she’d half-expected him to do everything but walk her back to her tent, she’d sooner lick a Korrigan’s black toes than go to bed now.
“Come on then.” His slow smile was devastating. He grabbed her hand, leading her toward the celebration instead of away from it.
Chapter Eight
Lucan stopped next to a tent, snatching a piece of fabric off a rope hung for clothing. “Here.” He draped the fabric over her head, his fingers unusually clumsy as he tried to tie it beneath Briana’s chin.
Had her eyes always been so impossibly blue? The bottomless cobalt shade almost glowed around the edges.
A faint smile teased the corners of her mouth, and he hurried to finish the knot.
“There. To avoid being noticed by your family.” He smoothed the few loose strands away from her face, his fingers lingering far too long against her skin.
Briana Callaghan.
He wouldn’t have thought he’d remember her face, but the moment she’d tipped her face up in the moonlight, he’d felt the recognition like the hilt of a sword to the gut.
“Lucan?”
Letting his hand drop back to his side—a much safer place for it should any of her brothers spot them—and met her gaze.
“Where should we go?” The impish grin he remembered had blossomed into a stunning smile. No wonder her brothers were so protective.
Waiting, she cocked her head, and he remembered she’d asked him something. He’d blame the ale except he’d hardly had any all night. There might be a festival happening around them, but Arthur never let an opportunity pass to strategize with his men.
That left the woman herself responsible for the fact he couldn’t keep his thoughts from bumbling around in his head like one of Merlin’s sprites.
Her eyes narrowed a fraction at the corners. “Are you teasing me? Did my brothers put you up to this?”
“No.” He just hadn’t come up with a reasonable answer to her earlier question. The overwhelming urge to steal her away for a while longer where he alone could enjoy her company left him in unfamiliar territory.
Guilt snaked through him, a reminder of what was expected of him—what had always been expected of him.
“We’ll go anywhere you’d like.” Lucan pulled his shirt on, then reached for her hand again, unable to help himself. A dangerous action—one that would have his friends wanting to claw him apart. Though he was closest to the youngest Callaghan brother, he knew full well Cale and Tristan would be equally unimpressed with the direction of his thoughts.
But still he didn’t let go.
The crowd gradually thickened as they wove around tents to join the fun. Someone thrust a mug of ale into his hand, and then Briana’s. He watched her lift the glass to her lips and take a long drink without making a face.
Around them people sang and laughed, spinning exaggerated tales of Arthur in battle. Listening to them, a stranger would be convinced the half-god king was nearly ten feet tall and Excalibur forever stained red with the blood of his enemies. Few tales involved Arthur’s diplomatic strides to keep peace in Avalon.
They lingered through numerous accounts, each one more violent and graphic than the one before, Briana’s fingers alternately tightening around his as the storytellers cast their spells, drawing her in. Lucan contented himself with watching the pleasure of the experience light up her face, though she’d probably heard the same stories hundreds of times before.