by Eliza Knight
And she would get what she needed—his protection.
So Jane stood tall, hands on her hips, chin jutted, as she waited for him to arrive on the beach. The men chanted as they rowed, and then before she could turn around and run back to the sanctuary of Iona’s abbey walls, the skiff was sliding up onto the beach and MacDougall was stepping down into the water, his large leather boot sinking into the sand and leaving a footprint the size of a crater. Their eyes met for an instant, and time stood still. She remembered those well. Emerald green and piercing. The way he was looking at her, as though he would devour her whole, made her limbs tingle, and she nearly faltered in her purposeful stance.
With deliberate intent, he marched toward her. Long, muscular legs with naked knees peeking from beneath his plaid. She jerked her gaze back up to his face to see that his eyes had darkened, and he either didn’t like her perusal, or he liked it very much. It was hard to tell.
Oh, heaven help her… She didn’t remember him being so…tall and large.
Or handsome.
Dark, wavy hair blew in the breeze and his face held a day or two’s worth of stubble. When last she’d seen him, he’d a beard covering most of his face. Now she could make out the square jaw, the wide, intimidating mouth, a distinguished nose that had been broken at least twice, and his eyes… She felt he could see straight into her soul. If he were the devil, he’d know just what she was willing to sell her soul to him for.
“My lady, Ja—Marina,” he said, voice full of confidence, a wry smile on his lips, as he swept a mocking bow and took her hand, bringing it close to his mouth.
A gentleman would brush the knuckles, or hover over the skin without making contact. But Savage was no gentleman. He pressed his lips firmly to the bare skin of her knuckles and left them there a hair’s breadth longer than was appropriate, enough so that she felt a shiver skid from that spot straight to her belly.
Jane swallowed hard and snatched her hand back. “Ye made good time.”
“Aye,” he said slowly, taking his time as he raked his intense gaze over her body. “I am most eager to collect my debt.”
“And ye shall.” She cleared her throat. “Now, if ye will, take me aboard your ship.”
Her gentle warrior did not look so gentle now. He towered over her, his breadth blocking out the rising sun. There was a low rumble in his chest she thought might have been a laugh, and judging by the curl of his sensual mouth when he said, “Nay,” she believed she was right.
Whatever game he was about, she wasn’t interested in joining in. She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. “Ye would deny the treasure?”
“I would deny having ye aboard my ship.” He let go of her hand then, but his gaze still held her taut enough she might as well have been pressed up against him.
“Then ye shall not collect your debt.” Her nerves were so unamused, her heart leapt up into her throat, and she feared she might just start gagging.
“Lass, dinna trifle with me.” He spoke low, menacingly, reaching forward to tuck her hair behind her ear.
“I would never dare trifle with a devil,” she offered back, keeping herself steady.
He grinned. “Just as much spark as I remember. Now where is my treasure?”
“The treasure is up here.” She tapped her head, surprised at the strength in her voice. “And I will only share it with ye, if ye take me aboard your ship.”
“That is not how it works, lass.”
Jane frowned. This was going to be a lot more difficult than she’d imagined. “Walk with me, MacDougall.”
She didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, she turned on her heel and marched up the beach. With his legs easily two hands longer than hers, he quickly caught up.
“I dinna like to be bossed around by anyone, let alone a mere slip of a lass.”
Jane let out a long sigh. “Please accept my apologies, sir. I am…” She wasn’t any good at this—figuring out just how to appeal to a man to entice him into helping her. Perhaps the best course would be to simply be honest. “I am in need of your help in escaping this island. In exchange, I am willing to share with you information that has until now been known only to me and a select few others.”
“Information?” The teasing turn of his lip lowered into a frown, and when next he spoke, it was not without warning. “Ye alluded to a treasure, lass. Dinna tell me ye’ve been lying.”
She shook her head quickly. “Nay. I’m not lying. The information leads to a treasure. Call me the map.”
“Ye deliberately misled me.” She thought he might be angry, but his tone appeared more amused than anything else.
Jane chewed her lower lip, peeking up at him through her lashes, trying to gauge just how mad he might be. Aye, she’d spent some time with him, exchanged a few letters, but…perhaps she’d underestimated the bond they’d formed. He was a pirate, after all. And men of his ilk saw only gold and jewels when they looked at the world around them. “I told ye what ye needed to hear in order to get ye to come to Iona. But I didna mislead ye. ’Tis the greatest treasure in Scotland.”
His eyes narrowed for a moment, and she thought he might say something more, but in the end he just said, “Tell me.”
“Promise to take me away from Iona.” This time, she didn’t hide the hint of desperation in her voice, and she glanced over his shoulder for added emphasis.
“Why?” Real concern etched in his face giving her cause to believe that the bond they’d formed was true.
Jane gave him her full gaze then, rather than glancing down at the sand or looking through her lashes. “Livingstone. He’s coming for me.”
While his expression did not change, there was a subtle pulse at his jaw as though he’d clenched his teeth, a flicker of something in his eyes. “I see.”
“He is coming to kill me.” Unbidden tears threatened, and she managed to hold them at bay.
Again, there was that flicker in his eyes, and she swore his arm twitched as though he wanted to reach for her. Oh, how she longed to sink against him, to feel the warmth of him. One night when they were on the ship, she’d fallen asleep beside him reading. When she woke, she realized he’d not moved, instead he’d just held her. How she’d cherished that moment for the past five years.
“How can ye be certain?”
His question brought her back to the present. “Mother Superior announced to us yesterday that we’d have special guest—Livingstone. That he was on a pilgrimage across the country. But I know he is looking for me.”
“Because he wants ye dead?”
“Aye.”
“Because ye were there at the death feast.” He stated it rather than asking.
“Partly. But also because of what I know.” She ran her hands through her hair and looked down at their boots sinking into the sand. “If only I were not so…stupid.”
“Lass?”
She flashed a bitter smile at him. “I shouldna have goaded William into telling me. Then I could be blissfully ignorant of it all.”
“But he would still be coming for ye, and then ye’d have nothing to barter with to get ye off the island.” Then his dark gaze roved over her body in a way that sent shivers rolling through her. “Well, almost nothing.”
She gasped, catching his meaning, and took a step back. “Ye’re a—”
“Devil?” he interrupted, stepping closer. “Aye, lass, I am, and it seems ye’re willing to negotiate with me. ’Haps I dinna want whatever secrets ye hold, but instead I want…ye.”
“I am not a pawn,” she shouted, feeling anger slice through her. “I am through being a pawn.”
The devil had the gall to laugh at that. All the fairytale apparitions floating before her eyes whipped from her mind faster than the lash on a pirate’s back.
“We shall see, Ja-Marina. Now, tell me your secret, and I will let ye know if it is worth the price of this gentle warrior taking ye off this island.”
He was mocking her. The cad. But what other choice did
she have? It wasn’t as if she could get off the island on her own. If she bribed the fisherman into taking her away, he might only ask for what the pirate had alluded to, and she was definitely not willing to give away her own precious gifts to the old man.
“Last month, Joan Beaufort, mother of the king, was killed in a siege at Dunbar castle. A siege laid upon them by Livingstone.”
“I had heard.”
“She sustained injuries in the battle, from which she died. But her husband, James Stewart, the Black Knight of Lorne, was able to escape with their children and his page.”
“This is common knowledge, lass. Ye’ll have to do better than that.”
Jane nodded, twisting her fingers together. “The page was not his page.”
“His squire? His cook?” Savage chuckled. “I hope ye’ve got something more interesting than that, love.”
“He was Alexander.”
At this, MacDougall frowned, his face darkening. “Alexander who?”
“Alexander Stewart, Duke of Rothesay, the eldest twin born on the sixteenth of October, year of our Lord 1430.”
Shaw’s scowl darkened. “The king’s twin, the elder twin? The one who died that day?”
Jane shook her head. “He did not die.”
“He did, my lady. Someone has fed ye a pack of lies, and now ye’re trying to sell them to me.”
“I am not lying.” But she did wonder if perhaps she had been told a lie herself. “William told me before he died that the Black Knight had a page who was the spitting image of the king. That the page, was in fact, the rightful king. ’Tis why Livingstone wanted my husband and his brother dead. Because they knew and could replace the puppet Livingstone is manipulating. Now he wants me dead. But not before he tortures the truth from me.”
“What truth? If ye know this, than he likely does, too.”
Jane shook her head. “He will want me dead for more than that. Livingstone…” She chewed her lip again, finding her throat tight. “I know the truth about where James and Alexander, the true king, are hiding.”
“How could ye know this?”
Locking her eyes on Shaw, she said, “Because, they came here seeking sanctuary. Because I told them where to go.”
“And Livingstone knows they were here?”
“Aye.”
“How?”
“Sister Maria.”
Shaw raised a brow.
“She came back, I wrote to ye of this. But after Lorne and Alexander’s visit, she left swiftly again. And now we’ve had word that Livingstone comes. I think she was a spy.”
At this final admission, the pirate opened his mouth and then closed it again. She might not have believed she could make him speechless if she hadn’t witnessed it herself.
“And where did ye tell them to hide, love?” His voice was soft, emerald eyes glittering.
“That I willna tell ye until ye let me onboard your ship. Until ye offer me protection.”
He grinned, but it wasn’t one filled with mirth, more like that of a pirate who’d just glimpsed his treasure and knew it would soon be his.
“There is only one way I will offer ye protection, love.” His grin took on a sensual curve.
Jane squared her shoulders, thrust her chin forward. “Name your price.”
“Ye…in my bed.”
Jane felt as though a gale force wind had knocked her back. He would take her information and her body? “Nay.” She watched his face darken and decided that perhaps another type of bargain could be hatched between them. “I shall agree to a…kiss, but nothing more.”
A brow winged up at that. “I’m a pirate, lass. I dinna claim anything without fully possessing it—including a woman.”
Another wayward shiver passed through her. Why did her body keep doing that? Why did that heated gaze he tossed at her have places on her body tingling that she didn’t know could tingle? Jane swallowed hard. Was there any other choice? Perhaps she could accept his terms, with an addendum of her own. “All right, but there is only one way I’ll ever enter your bed, gentle warrior.”
His eyes glittered like sparkling jewels. “Name your price, lass.”
Jane lifted her chin, meeting his gaze head on, and not wavering in the least. “Marriage.”
Chapter Four
Shaw let out a ruthless laugh. The lass was jesting, wasn’t she? “Marriage? Love do ye know who ye’re talking to?”
Jane’s chin jutted forward, and though she was staring up at him, the glare she fixed him with made him think she was looking down her nose at him. “I know exactly who I am speaking with.”
A little taken aback, the grin he held faltered. She was serious. “Then what on earth would possess ye to propose marriage, love?” Bedding her, aye, but marriage? To hell with that.
“Propose.” She huffed and turned in a circle, running her hands through her lustrous hair, her frustration clear and damned confusing.
To say he was stunned by what the lass had relayed and her subsequent request for a wedding would be an understatement, but Shaw wasn’t about to let her in on that. Especially not if he could get her to change her mind about the wedding part and still get her in his bed in the process. Marriage was definitely off the table, though.
She needed his protection, there was no doubt of that. And he’d be willing to bet she’d give almost anything to have it. He was probably the only man in Scotland willing to thwart that bastard Livingstone. And she knew it.
Smart lass.
If what she’d told him about Alexander and the fact that she knew his whereabouts was true, Livingstone would not let her go until the breath had left her body. That whoreson would chase them both to the ends of the earth, for it seemed she was the only one who could bring down the entire kingdom, until Alexander was of an age to do so himself. The lad would be about fifteen now, and if the Black Knight who protected him was smart, he’d wait until the boy king was at least twenty-one summers before pushing him to rise up against his own twin brother.
Jane stared him down now, daring him to deny her. How was it that this little slip of a lass could make him question his entire pirate code?
With a sigh, he hoped she couldn’t hear, he asked, “When is Livingstone supposed to arrive?”
“Any day now,” she murmured, looking over his shoulder again. “Maybe even any hour.” A myriad of emotions flitted over her face. Sadness, guilt, despair. And not once did he see hope.
Why did that bother him? Why did he care if she had any hope?
Bloody hell, he had no idea why he cared. But the truth was, he did. It was why he’d written her back when he got her letters. Possibly the reason why he’d felt slightly bereft when their letters had to cease. Shaw cleared his throat, pushing away his weakening thoughts. By the rood, he was a bloody pirate prince! He didn’t let silly lassies and their even sillier hopes and dreams get in the way of where he was headed.
Stick to the basics, he told himself. Bedding her would be a most treasured gift.
Triton’s trident, but she’d grown into a beautiful, luscious woman, just as he’d expected her to. She was lush and curvy in all the right places. Breasts that pushed the confines of her humble gown, hips that flared and a waist that was lost in the ridiculously pious garment, but he bet he could span it with both hands. Her long blond locks radiated gold, and her blue eyes were more beautiful than a summer sky and had deeper depths than the sea he loved so much. Blast, he couldn’t stop looking at her mouth. Plush red lips that would feel decadent pressed to his. They could make him give up everything if she put them somewhere else.
Devil take it! “Then we must leave now.” His tone brooked no argument.
“Not until ye agree.” Her hands were back on those curvy hips, right where he wanted to touch to pull her close, to massage the voluptuous swells.
Shaw raised a brow, feeling his body tighten. “My, my. Back to bossing around the big bad pirate, are we?”
She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, which
only served to push those plump breasts up higher. “I dinna see that I have any other choice, Savage.”
His grin widened, and he tried hard not to stare at the wares she showed off so well. “Neither do I. Well, that is, unless ye choose death.” Shrugging, he tried to put off an air of not giving a damn. If she knew just how much she was affecting him, he’d be lost.
Those red lips parted on a gasp, then trembled. Damn!
“I dinna wish to die.” Blue eyes implored him.
“And I dinna wish to be married, sweet Ja-marina.”
She sniffed at him. “So we are at an impasse. Ye dinna want my treasure?”
Oh, that was a trap she’d laid, and he walked right into. His gaze raked her, only making the tightening in his groin all the more uncomfortable. “Oh, lass, I want your treasure verra much.”
Her eyes widened in innocent surprise, as if she’d not been trying to bait him. “The rightful king, ye wretch, that treasure.”
Shaw chuckled. “Ye need not explain to me what ye meant. Ye’ve offered me many things, and I would have them all.”
“Marriage?” She raised a challenging brow.
He grimaced. “Let us take that off the bargaining table.”
“Then ye must take me out of your bed.”
“I will take ye any place ye wish, love.” God, he wanted to touch her. They were close enough, he could just reach forward a little and stroke her soft cheek, brush his thumb over her lower lip.
She rolled her eyes and let out a groan. “Ye know exactly what I mean, and yet ye toy with me. I need to get off this island. I’m willing to share with ye the greatest national treasure, and nothing else, unless ye put a ring on my finger and vow before the Lord and your crew that I am yours for eternity.”
“All right.”
She gasped. “All right?”
“I will put my ring on your finger, and I will vow before anyone who listens that ye are mine. And then I will take ye to bed and discover all of your secrets.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not certain that what ye said constitutes marriage.”
“It does in the eyes of pirates and Scottish law.”
