The Blond Devil of the Sea: The Highland Ladies Book Three

by Barclay, Celeste

“She’s not my lover. She’s not my mistress. She’s a woman from my past, and I bluidy well wish that’s where she could remain, but she can’t. At least not right now,” Rowan growled. “Caragh, do you not understand how much I wish I could avoid this? How much I dread this? I don’t want to go.”

  “I think you dreaded me finding out. I think you dread me catching you after you swear nothing will happen.”

  “Nothing will happen. That’s why I want you to come with me. You’ll watch me end everything with Alane.”

  Caragh hissed at the name of the faceless woman who caused her such upset.

  “Or would you rather test me? Send me alone to see if I fail you once again. Let you make up whatever you already assume will happen.”

  “This isn’t about testing you. This is about how I still don’t completely trust you. You have a spiteful streak in you, Rowan. An ability to disregard me and cause me pain unlike anything I ever imagined.”

  “And I nearly lost you because of that. I might have been attending your wedding to Ruairí.”

  Caragh’s laugh rang hollow and brittle. “Little likelihood of that,” she huffed.

  “I can’t force you to trust me again. I have no right to be frustrated at a situation of my own making, but I am. I want to be worthy of you. I don’t want you to doubt me anymore. If that doubt hurts you even a fraction of how it hurts me, then it must be excruciating.”

  “It is,” Caragh whispered. “I fear I can’t survive another betrayal. Rowan, you’re my entire world in more ways than one. You’re my husband. I love you. But I also live aboard your ship with few places to go.”

  Rowan nodded his head, acknowledging the truth in what she said. “The Lady Grace is as much yours as it is mine now, but I understand how this can make you feel trapped. That’s not what I ever wanted.” He pulled her back against his chest as he burrowed his nose into her hair. “I won’t force you to come into town with me. If you don’t believe I’ll be faithful to you, then I’ll have to prove that I can be. Any of my men will tell you the truth, and they would know if I was unfaithful. Hell, they’d mutiny in your favor and skin me alive.”

  “You don’t have to worry. I’m not testing you,” Caragh sighed as she uncrossed her arms.

  “But I’d have you come ashore as much so you can see for yourself, as I would for her to know how much I love my wife. That my life is changing, and that the arrangement no longer stands. Beyond that, you deserve a chance to see something other than the inside of this cabin and open water.”

  Caragh stroked his sun-bleached hair as she considered what he said. Part of her had faith that he wouldn’t cheat or betray her. She could admit to herself curiosity to meet the manner of woman she’d managed to beat. She did view it as a competition, and she wanted to gloat. She was certain the woman must be beautiful or very skilled, if not both, to have Rowan continue to return to her bed.

  “I’ll come ashore with you.”

  Rowan wrapped his arms around her and released a shuddering breath. Caragh hadn’t realized how fearful Rowan had been until that moment. She kissed the top of his head before looking back at the porthole.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Lady Grace sailed into Oban under the cover of darkness. Caragh had taken an especially long time to get ready, and while Rowan wanted to laugh at the fuss, he understood why she felt the need. Meeting Alane still scared her, and she felt she had something to prove. He wished the last two days had been enough to show her there was nothing to fear, but he’d also forced himself to imagine himself in her position. It had made him want to toss up his accounts more than once.

  Rowan watched Caragh as she fastened a necklace, a simple gold chain that came to rest in her cleavage, pressed tightly against her neckline. The gown she’d chosen was the same one she wore when she went ashore to visit her family, but she’d laced it much tighter, and it looked like she’d been poured into it. It fit like a second skin, and Rowan wasn’t sure if he could allow any man to catch sight of her in such an outfit.

  Caragh stepped away from the small looking glass, aware that Rowan was watching her. His gaze followed her like a hawk as she moved about the cabin getting ready. She walked past him and tapped his chest before pulling the MacNeil plaid from the end of the bed. She folded it and wrapped it around her shoulders as a shawl. Rowan knew she might have worn it as an arisaid, but he also knew she had no intention of covering herself. The air remained brisk, but didn’t necessitate the wool. He understood she wore his plaid as a statement, and nothing made him happier than to see it. He loved the look of her wearing his plaid. It proclaimed to everyone she was his, and in turn, he would have everyone understand he was hers.

  “I’m ready, Rowan.” Caragh’s soft tones carried to him as he focused his gaze on something other than the wife he wanted to peel naked and sink into.

  Skinny rowed their dinghy ashore while four other boats followed them. Rowan helped Caragh onto the shore and wrapped his arm around her waist. He did it as much to guide her in silence as to protect her. He kept his other hand on the hilt of his sword. Caragh said nothing as they walked along the dock until they stopped before a sign that read “The Waiting Arms.”

  “Subtle,” Caragh mumbled, and Rowan gave her a squeeze.

  He stepped in front of her as he opened the door. He looked around and sized up the crowd before stepping in. Before he had the opportunity to lead Caragh in with the hand that held hers, a woman’s voice carried to them.

  “If it isn’t my Blond Devil.” Rowan winced as Caragh’s nails dug into the back of his hands, a visceral reaction to a woman he was certain she couldn’t yet see. “Come inside, love. I have something to warm you up.”

  Rowan was sure he heard Caragh mutter “bitch” under her breath. He stepped further into the tavern and pulled her beside him. He wrapped his arm around her as she caught sight of Alane for the first time. Caragh wanted to turn and run back to the ship. The woman was stunning. Caragh had hoped she would resemble a dried-up old hag, but of course she wasn’t so lucky. The woman had deep auburn hair artfully piled upon her head, but several tendrils danced about her shoulders and rested on her cleavage. Caragh observed that she wore makeup and was older than she appeared, but she was still striking. Caragh felt like a country mouse in comparison. Rowan squeezed her waist to reassure her. She refused to glance at him, but she was certain he’d been aware of how inadequate she would feel. He’d known she couldn’t possibly measure up to the woman from Rowan’s past. She felt ill.

  “And who is this little mouse cowering next to you?” Alane purred.

  Caragh wanted to burst into tears as she heard the woman compare her to the same drab animal she’d compared herself with. Rowan looked to the floor in confusion.

  “I was under the impression you kept a cleaner place than that, Alane. I wasn’t aware you allow mice.” Rowan glowered at her, and Caragh breathed slightly better. “Let me introduce you to my wife, Caragh.”

  Caragh nearly grinned when she caught the woman stop short, and the smile slid from her face before being plastered back on.

  “Wife? How did she trap the untrappable Blond Devil?”

  “Caragh had no need to trap me. I was more than willing.” Rowan smirked.

  “I can believe that,” Alane was back to purring. “She is a rather adorable little thing.”

  Caragh kept her face serene despite the insults, innuendos, and backhanded compliments. “You know I’m Rowan’s wife, but all I know is you own a brothel. Do you have a name?” Caragh’s voice purred just as seductively as Alane’s. Rowan wanted to stop her before she engaged with a woman who would eat her alive.

  “Alane.”

  “Fitting. I’m sure you’ve lain quite a lot.”

  Rowan nearly choked, and Alane’s pretense fell as she glared at the younger woman.

  “Kitten has claws,” Alane spoke to Rowan as if Caragh was no longer there.

  “Talons,” Caragh purred again.

  Rowan reali
zed it was time to step in before they came to blows. “I would have the goods unloaded and stored, so we might be on our way.”

  “Is it past your wife’s bedtime?”

  “It is, in fact,” Caragh interjected. “It’s well past time Rowan tuck me in. He has such a way of making it so I can barely keep my eyes open.” Caragh had the audacity to wink, and Rowan wasn’t sure if he should take her over his knee later or laugh aloud now.

  Rowan looked over his shoulder, “Skinny, come stand with Caragh.” He bussed a kiss on her head. “I’ll be gone only a few minutes. Let me settle the trade, and we can be on our way.”

  Caragh forced herself to remain calm. She didn’t trust Alane anywhere near her husband, but they were there for business. She nodded her head. Rowan followed Alane through a doorway; Caragh had no idea where it led. She glanced about at the women peddling their trade, several having found some of Rowan’s men. The brothel was clean and well appointed. It was far nicer than she imagined a place that served women before it served ale would be.

  As the minutes slipped by, Caragh became first impatient, then anxious, as she kept her eyes pinned to the door and Rowan didn’t appear. She opened and closed her hands as she fisted the material of her skirts. She was aware they were becoming horribly wrinkled, but it was that or pacing. She wouldn’t give her fear away to anyone, least of all Alane’s whores, who’d undoubtedly report back to her later. Just as Caragh was about to resign herself to both her husband choosing Alane and the tears that threatened, Rowan stormed back through the door. His face was a thundercloud as he stalked towards her. Caragh peered past him and saw anger and rejection on Alane’s face. It made her appear old and bitter. Caragh looked back at Rowan and recognized that he was angry Alane had attempted to seduce him.

  “We’re leaving,” his voice was full of hushed menace that caused chills to run along Caragh’s spine. “Skinny, gather the men.”

  Caragh put a hand on his chest and looked up at him. “Whatever went on back there isn’t their fault. They deserve a night of pleasure and relaxation. They’ve sailed up and down the coast and to Spain with nothing to gain, and that’s because I was on board. Let them have their fun.”

  Rowan looked down at Caragh’s earnest face, knowing she understood what had happened with Alane. He admired her more than he had words to express. She’d remain in port for the night so his men might enjoy themselves, despite how much he knew she wished to leave. He wasn’t prepared for what she did next.

  “I assume Rowan had a room he prefers, perhaps one you even save for him,” she looked at Alane. “I’ve spent so much time in that tiny cabin over the past moon, it would be nice to sleep on a bed other than the one on the ship.”

  Rowan wanted to groan as Caragh taunted Alane. Things had gone worse than he expected. He’d expected Alane would attempt to lure him from Caragh; that was inevitable. What he hadn’t anticipated how hard she was willing to try. She’d rubbed against him, pulled the shoulder of her gown down, and then insulted his manhood when she cupped a cock that had always been hard as marble when she was around. It had laid dormant. When she insulted Caragh, he’d lost his temper and nearly slapped her. His hand had been within inches from her face before he pulled back. He made it clear they were through. Not only had their physical relationship run its course, so had their business connection. It stunned him that Caragh was suggesting they spend the night in a brothel, one where she was painfully aware that he’d bedded the owner countless times over the years.

  Caragh stepped towards Alane, and an expression of sympathy settled onto her face. Rowan might have been convinced it genuine if he wasn’t familiar with what Caragh’s look of genuine sympathy looked like.

  “I see you operate a busy establishment,” Caragh cast her eyes about, but made it obvious she was surveying the women, not the men. She turned back to glance at Alane. “Pity we picked such a busy night.”

  She gave a speculative look to Alane before looking at Rowan. He’d never seen such a predatory gleam in her eyes. She’d been innocent in her seductiveness when he met her. There was no such innocence now.

  “I’m sure you’re not satisfied.” She licked her lips as she looked at Alane. “I mean with how things have ended with Rowan. I assume you blame me for that. Bad for business at the least.”

  She leaned forward as she allowed her shawl to fall open. Her breasts threatened to tumble from her gown as Rowan hardened to the point of pain. He wanted to carry her away, but a perversely curious part of him wanted to witness what comeuppance she dealt Alane.

  “I do feel a little guilty. I didn’t want to admit it, but I understand why Rowan found you so attractive. You’re a beautiful woman.”

  Rowan watched Alane’s demeanor shift as Caragh sounded as genuine as she looked. Alane stepped closer to Caragh, as Caragh let the shawl fall down her back, and Rowan struggled to ignore how his cock twitched when he realized that somehow Caragh had shifted her gown to show the tops of her dusky nipples. Alane licked her lips as she tried to read Caragh.

  “We’re here for one night, and then Rowan promises me we’ll never sail through here again. I suspect I could make things up to you.” Caragh raised an eyebrow before looking over at Rowan. He nodded his head in permission as he never took his eyes from Caragh.

  “Perhaps you have more to you than I estimated,” Alane murmured.

  “There’s quite a bit more to me. Perhaps,” Caragh trailed off.

  Alane stepped close enough that their breasts brushed against one another. Rowan couldn’t deny to himself how alluring the women looked together. His attention remained pinned to his wife as he witnessed her seduce an experienced whore.

  “Perhaps what, love?” Alane whispered near Caragh’s ear.

  “Perhaps you could teach me what he likes.”

  “And how would I do that?”

  “You could show me.”

  “You would let me roger your husband?”

  “Maybe not yet, but I might let you roger me.”

  Rowan feared his eyes would fall out of his face as he watched Caragh proposition a whore. He never expected his wife to say that. Caragh waved him over and stuck out the hand that was closer to the stairs. He took it but wasn’t sure if he had the nerve to lead his wife to a chamber where he’d once kept Alane as his lover. Where he’d bedded the woman, and many others, more times than he could count.

  “I never would’ve imagined you as the type to dip your finger, or tongue,” Alane raised her own eyebrow, “in the lady pond.”

  “Are you trying to convince me otherwise? Should we not bother bringing you abovestairs with us?”

  “I promise you there’s plenty I can teach you, little one.”

  Caragh tried not to grimace, but she opened to Alane when the woman swooped in to kiss her. Caragh released Rowan as she kneaded Alane’s breast with one hand and cupped her backside with the other. She poured every lesson she’d learned from Rowan into her kiss, and she forced her mind to the place it had gone when she feared Rowan would give her to Ruairí. She felt cool air around her ankles, then calves, then thighs before a warm, slender finger slid inside her.

  “Mmm, I didn’t expect you’d be wet for me, but you seem to enjoy the attention.”

  Caragh glanced at Rowan to see his reaction to not only seeing his wife kiss a woman, but to hear it aroused her. He looked utterly bewildered. Caragh turned back to Alane and squeezed her breast as Alane worked two more fingers into Caragh. Caragh’s head fell back in the first genuine emotion since beginning this dance with Alane. She mewled as her body responded, but she pictured Rowan’s hands and mouth on her. That was what she’d pictured all along, and what had aroused her. She knew she needed Alane to believe otherwise. Caragh slid her fingers below Alane’s neckline and found her nipple. She toyed with it until it beaded, and Alane moaned.

  “I wasn’t sure if you would enjoy this either. It seems you do,” Caragh murmured.

  “I think I will enjoy you.”

>   Standing near the stairs, they were no longer in view of the main room. Alane sunk to her knees and lifted Caragh’s skirts over her head. Caragh felt the other woman’s cool breath against her inner thighs before Alane’s tongue replaced her fingers. The sensation differed from Rowan, and unable to see Alane, it became pleasurable. When she swayed, Rowan stepped behind her. She guided his hands to her breasts and showed him how she wanted him to knead them before resting her head back on his shoulder. Alane lifted one of Caragh’s legs over her shoulder as she set a punishing pace of licking and sucking. Caragh’s hips rocked, and she reached behind her to find the ridge that ran along the seam of Rowan’s leggings. She stroked him as she cupped his bollocks. She turned her head and looked up at Rowan.

  “I need you inside me,” she mouthed.

  Rowan growled as he bit her earlobe.

  “You already have someone there,” he whispered in her ear.

  “I won’t in a moment,” Caragh’s words floated to Rowan, and he frowned.

  Caragh pulled her skirts to her waist and stared as Alane feasted upon her. The other woman’s eyes were shut, and she seemed to revel in the taste of Caragh. Caragh noticed Alane had her hand under her own skirts as she pleasured herself. Caragh lifted her leg from Alane’s shoulder. She used the shift to make it seem as if it were an accident when she bumped into Alane and knocked her onto her backside.

  “On second thought, I don’t care for someone else’s leftovers.”

  Caragh spun towards the steps and prayed Rowan would follow her. He was hot on her heels. He pressed past her and tugged her down the hall to the last door. He pushed it open before yanking her inside. He bolted the door and pounced. He tore the bodice of Caragh’s gown as he pulled it loose. She tried to help him, but he pushed her hands aside.

  “I want to undress you,” he growled. “You’re mine. And I’ll be the only one who sees all of you.”

  “Are you angry?” Rowan paused long enough to see the doubt clouding Caragh’s face. “Did I go too far?”