“You would have had the bra on still too, but I didnae see the point,” he said. “I dinnae ken the need for such a thing. It looks bloody uncomfortable.”
Grabbing the first thing she could find while still sitting, Nicole pulled on his tunic. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “So you screwed me with my panties on?”
Sure, it could be done but had they been in that much of a rush? Then again, with their dislike of one another they might have been. Slake the lust and get it over with.
Instead of answering her, he folded his arms beneath his head and studied her. “What’s Southie?”
Southie? Ugh, what the hell had she said last night? “You mean where.” She yawned and padded over to the table where she plunked down and bit into some bread. “South Boston. Why?”
Niall kept eying her, expression neutral. “I was just curious what sort of place bred a lass like you.”
She snorted and shook her head. “It’s a great place. Home.”
“Lots of Irish immigrants,” he remarked.
“Sure, I guess.” She poured herself more water. “I’m Irish on both sides.”
“Both sides?”
“Mom and Dad.”
“Ah.” He sat up and stretched, his muscles flexing in all sorts of delicious ways. “I never would’ve guessed.”
“Don’t be a smartass.” She cursed under her breath when she could not pull her eyes from him. It wasn’t just his body but his face. Those full, sensual lips. Those eyes that almost seemed to fluctuate between blue and black. When he got out of bed, her eyes fell to the firm globes of his tight ass. Oh, have mercy. She wanted to squeeze those…
He chuckled and laid the brogue on thick as he grabbed the mug and headed around the bed. “Ye just cannae keep yer eyes off it, aye, lass?”
Nicole didn't let her gaze fall because she knew what she would see if she did. More than that, she knew how much he would enjoy it. “Get over yourself, Brute.”
Entirely too comfortable in his own skin, he remained nude and grabbed a piece of bread, winking at her. “I think I like you in my clothes, Ungrateful. It puts…”
His lips kept moving, but an all-too-familiar buzzing sound drowned him out. Like it was with Darach, she had trouble following him. And just like his cousin had, Niall seemed to sense something was wrong because his brows lowered and he stopped talking.
Nicole tore her eyes from his lips and focused on downing her water. Anything to keep him from seeing an ounce of fear. Just like last time, whispers started to echo around her. This time, however, it filtered down to one.
A child.
“I can hear them,” he whispered. It was definitely a boy and he sounded frightened. “They willnae leave me be.”
“I can hear them too,” she whispered back as she stood.
Niall was right there beside her with his hand on her elbow. She didn’t look at him. Instead, she scanned the room for the boy though she knew deep down he wasn’t here.
“Where are you?” she whispered.
Nicole sensed the child’s hesitation so she said, “I’m your friend.”
“As are we all,” screeched too many voices.
Covering her ears against the pain, Nicole tried to slide to her knees but Niall swung her up into his arms and sat on the bed. The pain was familiar. Like the earaches she’d gotten when she was younger only a thousand times worse.
While some might cower, she wasn’t that sort. No, she screamed at the top of her lungs, “Get out of our heads. Leave the boy alone.”
A sharp pain pierced her head then all the voices vanished. The buzzing faded to be replaced with the sound of a gentle wind blowing through the windows and the crackling fire. It was always disconcerting hearing the world again. This time more so.
Not helping any, the door burst open and several people rushed into the room. Colin MacLeod and Rònan had swords drawn. Seònaid and Torra appeared to be chanting in a foreign language.
“Shh, quiet,” Niall said to the others as he cupped her head against his chest. “All is well enough.”
Though she was tempted to pull away, the comforting thud of his heart was too soothing to resist. Rònan sat beside them and tilted his head until his concerned eyes met hers.
“Are you sure you’re well, lass?” he whispered.
“Yeah,” she whispered back as the pounding in her head faded. Maybe there was a little bit left but she guessed that had more to do with the hangover she wouldn't admit to.
Rònan squeezed her hand, a flash of anger in his eyes as he continued to whisper. “When you’re ready tell me whose bloody arse I need to kick even if ‘tis my cousin’s, aye?”
“Not your cousin’s,” she assured softly as she lifted her head. “He’s been all right.”
She got the sense Rònan wanted to crack a joke but refrained as Seònaid gave her a mug and urged her to drink.
“Thanks,” she murmured and took a sip. She flinched and handed it back when she realized it was whisky. “I’m all set with this for now.”
“’Twas just to calm your nerves,” Seònaid said as she sat beside Niall on the other side. “When you’re ready, we need to know what happened.”
Torra and Colin stood in front of the fire, their eyes assessing but kind.
Nicole became a little too aware of what she was wearing. Better yet, what Niall was not wearing. Clothing.
Speaking to the room in general, she said, “Mind if I get changed first?”
“Nay, of course not,” Torra said, shooing everyone out. Rònan tried to stay but she shot him a stern look and though he towered over her, he trailed after his mother.
When Nicole tried to stand, Niall stopped her. Honestly, she was surprised by the concern in his eyes when he said, “Are you truly well, lass?”
Though tempted to tell him that she had been better, it wasn’t her style to lean on anybody outside her close network of friends. And even then, she held back. So she pulled away. “Yeah, I’m good. No worries.”
Nicole put on her bra before pulling off his tunic. For a split second, she was tempted to keep it on. To remain embraced by the odd sense of comfort it gave her. But wouldn’t he just love that. By the time she got dressed, he was fully clothed and looking out the window.
“Tell me what happened before they come back in,” he murmured.
“Why?” Nicole gulped down the rest of her water. “We might’ve slept together, but that doesn’t make us a thing, Niall.” She shook her head. “So, no.”
“I only asked so that you didnae feel overwhelmed.” His jaw clenched and his eyes turned her way. “Nothing more.”
“I don’t get overwhelmed so lose the soft eyes.” While she meant to head for the door, instead she leaned against another windowsill and stared out over the loch. “Cassie told you about my issue, didn’t she?”
“Issue?”
“Don’t play dumb.” She kept her eyes glued to the water. “My issue.”
Niall sighed. “Aye, I know of your issue, Nicole.”
She just knew her friend had blabbed. Damn it. Her eyes shot to him. “So, what, you can’t even say the words, going deaf?”
Niall leaned sideways against the windowsill and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can but ‘tis clearly not easy for you.”
Taken aback, her eyes widened. “I’m pretty sure I just said them.”
“And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t easy."
If nothing else, the guy was a straight shooter. Regardless, she hadn't brought it up so he could revel in thinking he had her all figured out. So she blew him off.
“Why do I bother trying to talk to you,” she muttered and headed for the door.
By the time everyone had clustered back into the room and she told them what had happened, Niall was lounging on the bed. He almost acted as if he didn't care. She must have been beyond wasted to spread her legs for that one. Shame on her. Times ten. No, times a thousand.
“It must have been the wee Bruce,” Rònan said
to his parents.
“Aye.” Torra's eyes met her husband’s. “Grant has kept in constant contact. All is well at MacLomain Castle.”
“Aye.” But Colin seemed wary. “I still dinnae ken why the wee lad was sent away from the Mother Oak to begin with. Isn’t he safer there? Where Fionn Mac Cumhail’s power is the strongest, or is the Celtic god not the one best equipped to fight the Genii Cucullati? Better yet, their allies, Brae Stewart and her demi-god chieftain?”
“There is so much that Grant and I dinnae ken right now that we thought it best to keep those who need protecting divided and under our care.” Torra’s eyes went to Nicole. “I think, mayhap, our plans have changed.”
While tempted to brace her forehead in her hands, Nicole kept them in her lap versus crossed over her chest in defense. There was no way she'd shy away from anyone who needed to see strength in her eyes. She wasn’t a kid from the underbelly of Southie anymore, but a woman who could handle anything life threw her way. A woman who never once withheld her opinion. “I want to be wherever Robert is. He needs me.”
“That’s all well and good but not if it means—”
Her eyes shot to Niall. “Was I talking to you?”
“Aye, ye bloody well—”
“Enough,” Torra said sharply. “We’ll be rallying as many warriors as we can spare and heading for the MacLomains.”
“Is that not dangerous? ‘Tis across the country,” Seònaid started but stopped short when her mother narrowed her eyes. “Aye then. ‘Tis a good plan indeed.”
When Torra crouched in front of Nicole and took her hands, she sat up a little straighter. Torra's eyes were level and her voice calm. “I sense great strength in you, lass. Never fight it. Always embrace it.” She cupped her cheek. “Aye?”
“You bet.” Nicole nodded. “I got this.”
Torra looked at her long and hard, searching, before she nodded and stood. “All right then. I will see you provisioned. Be in the great hall soon.” She stopped before she reached the door and looked over her shoulder. “Do you know how to ride your horse, then?”
She could lie to the woman but knew better. “I’m getting there.”
Torra eyed her for another long moment then nodded. “Good.”
Then she and Colin left.
What had she gotten herself into? Probably more than she could handle. But it would not be the first time. Ripping off another piece of bread, she scowled at the other three who seemed to be eying her carefully. Wait, make that two of them.
Niall was asleep.
Rònan sat across from Nicole as Seònaid sat on the bed.
Nicole gestured at Niall. “He’s a piece of work, eh?”
Seònaid smiled at the brute. “He is who he is and we love him for it.”
That statement sent chills up her spine. Had Cassie not said the same thing about Nicole recently?
“Though he’s given you to me, he still took good care of you last night, lass,” Rònan mentioned, pouring himself not water but whisky. “You should be grateful.”
“Huh?” Nicole narrowed her eyes. “He’s given me to you?”
“Aye, he said I could have you.” Rònan took a swig then grabbed some bread as he winked. “And have you, I will.”
“Keep dreaming, biker wannabee,” she scoffed. “How do you figure he took care of me last night? The way I see it, he took advantage.”
Seònaid’s brows arched. “Niall made himself look the fool to cover for ye bunch of drunkards.”
“Och, nay. We were just having fun.” Rònan waved away Seònaid’s words and cocked a grin at Nicole. “What is a biker wannabee?”
Nicole rubbed her forehead and muttered, “All the tats and bits of leather that seem to be part of your plaid.”
“Tats?”
“Your dragon markings,” Seònaid explained. “In her day and age, bikers or men who ride motorcycles, tend to have more of them than most.”
“Dragon markings?” Rònan said. “Really?”
“Tattoos not dragon markings.” Nicole shook her head. “Never mind.”
“I like you, Nicole,” Seònaid said bluntly, her brogue thickening with passion as she brushed hair away from Niall’s face. “But ye should know that the MacLomain saved ye from making a fool out of yerself. More than ye already were, that is.”
Nicole frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Do ye not recall screaming like a banshee that all the men meant to have ye?” Seònaid shrugged and shot her a live-with-your-own-behavior look. “Do ye not remember being so much in yer cups ye could barely stand?”
Nicole flinched as faint memories started to surface. Her and Rònan pouring whisky into each other’s mouths. Her dancing on a table blowing kisses to the crowd. Rònan and her grinding with possibly another guy behind her.
Her eyes met Rònan’s. “Oh, shit. Did I peek under your plaid?”
He offered a wide smile. “’Twas great fun, aye?”
“Oh, no.” She held her head and groaned. “I’m such an ass.”
“’Tis a verra nice arse,” Rònan said.
She sat back, eyes wide. “Tell me I didn’t moon the crowd. I used to do this thing back in the day—”
“You showed nothing,” Seònaid cut in before Rònan could respond. “Mainly because Niall saved you.”
“He saved her all right,” Rònan grunted. “For his cock that is.”
Now it was her turn to say, “Enough.” Shaking her head, she pounded down more water, almost wishing it was something stronger. “Obviously I got a little out of control. It won’t happen again.”
“That would be a bloody shame.” Rònan winked and nodded at the bed. “But mayhap ye’ll give me a go next time, aye?”
Nicole shook her head. “No more go’s for anyone.”
Seònaid leaned over and whispered something in Niall’s ear. As though he had been shaken, his eyes shot open.
“Sorry to use a spell on ye, lad,” she said softly. “But ‘tis time for you to journey.”
He sat up and did one of those stretches that had a way of magnetizing her eyes.
“What did I miss?” he said.
“Nothing overly important,” Seònaid assured then handed Nicole some clothes. “Change into these. They’re easier to travel in.”
“Will do,” Nicole said. When Seònaid left and the men still lingered, she shook her head. “A little privacy please.”
Rònan chuckled as he sauntered out. “Now she wants privacy.”
“Be quick about it, lass,” Niall said. “We travel soon.”
“Sure thing, Brute.”
After he left, she almost felt bad for calling him that. Kind of. Why had he slept with her after he’d saved her from embarrassing herself even more? He knew she was drunk. It made no sense. Or did it? Maybe he was getting back at her because he was forced to behave like a fool. Yet that didn’t feel quite right.
She searched her memory as she pulled on pants and a shirt. Flashes of anything. All she could remember was comfort…safety…lack of judgment. No sex. But that couldn’t be the case. This was Niall, after all. He would be the first to judge her no matter how much he might have seemed like a hero. And he would certainly be the first to have a go at her if she was willing. Right? Because all bullshit aside, he was hot and that would have worked for her in a drunken stupor.
She scowled. That didn’t say much for her did it?
Hell.
One thing was for sure, she needed to lose any worries or self-doubt because there was a little boy out there who needed her help. A little boy who could hear the monsters in her head. A boy who had the same monsters in his head. So she stood up straighter and did what she always did, met the world with a brave face.
Just like last night, Niall waited patiently outside the door.
“Let’s go,” she said.
He made a loose gesture, a mild look of exasperation on his face. “After you.”
That's right. Every time. But she kept that t
hought to herself.
For now.
“Aren’t you gonna throw on pants?” she said as they headed for the great hall.
“Nay, I rarely wear trousers.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “They’re uncomfortable.”
“Uh huh, so it’s better to wear a blanket around your waist.” She frowned. “Even on a horse?”
“Aye.”
Though he said nothing after that, she got the sense he wanted to. So as they walked down the stairs, she glanced at him. “I’ll probably regret asking, but what’s on your mind, Niall?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”
“I doubt that.”
“Why?”
“Because I think mayhap you dinnae care either way.” His eyes turned to hers. “I think you hope I’ll say something that will incite you to once more grow angry with me so that you dinnae have to focus on all that lies ahead.”
“Damn.” She chuckled, alarmed by how well he already had her figured out. But heck if she would hand it to him that easily. So she played with him. “Guess you have me pegged. Or at least you think you do.”
“I know I do,” he said when they reached the bottom step.
“Do ya now.” She planted her fists on her hips and eyed him. “Then what do you suppose is on my mind right now?”
He leaned down until their noses were inches apart. “I would imagine why you cannae for the life of you remember how good I made you feel last night. Especially when you’ll likely hear about the cries of pleasure that came from my chamber.”
She narrowed her eyes.
He narrowed his.
“Well, I don’t remember a thing,” she said. “I’d say that works against you.”
“Och, nay. ‘Twas in my favor,” he growled then had the nerve to wink before he turned away, muttering under his breath, “Such as ye were.”
“Brute.”
“Ungrateful,” he tossed back.
Damn man. Medieval neanderthal. One she couldn’t even remember kissing for the first time…because they surely kissed. What had it felt like? No flashes came to mind so not that great she supposed. Regardless, she had a thing about first kisses. They were important.
Honor of a Scottish Warrior Page 6
