“Ye didnae see what coming?” Angus responded to what Adlin had said.
On the ball, Adlin shook his head, raised his mug and offered a wide smile. “Enjoying myself so bloody much aboard yer bonny ship!”
“Aye!” Angus roared as everyone held up their mugs and did the same before taking another swig.
Thankfully, with her affectionate assurances that he was the only one she wanted, Bryce set aside his jealousy, and they enjoyed several more hours in Angus' company. Most of that time the captain made eyes at Lindsay, Conall be damned. But then what sort of pirate in their right mind cared a lick if her man was sitting right there? Because if nothing else could be said about Laird MacDonald, it was that the historical rumors about him being a pirate were absolutely true. So said the tales his men told of their thieving ways. On behalf of the Scottish crown, of course.
Later, when Bryce and Jessie finally made it to their quarters, she was still chuckling at that fact.
“Oh, he’s a pirate all right!” She shook her head, grinning. “Heck if Conall doesn’t have his hands full with Lindsay though. She’s always been a diva, that one. How could Angus not fall head over heels in love with her?”
“Aye, but she doesnae return her admirers’ affections.” He grinned and shrugged. “And we are dealing with a ship full of men at sea for days.” He shook his head. “So she was bound to stir things up.” He gave her a pointed look. “And she’s not the only one. You and Milly have been turning plenty of heads on this ship.”
She didn’t comment on that as she pulled off her boots. “Either way, we’re lucky to have you MacLomains,” the corner of her mouth hitched, “or should I say a MacLeod watching over us.”
“Aye,” Bryce agreed as he backed her up against the door before she could undress any further. “And we’re just as lucky to have you Brouns to watch over.” He pinned her wrists by her head and came close. “Verra lucky.” His voice lowered. “I’m grateful you’re mine, lass.”
They both knew he was referring to the remote possibility she might have ended up with Fraser.
“But I didn’t,” she whispered, her heart racing as their eyes held. She was so turned on she could barely think straight. “Nor would I have wanted to.”
He brushed his lips across hers, then pulled up her skirts and hoisted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. Again, his thoughts came through loud and clear, and she could only be grateful for his reasonable mind.
Though some small part of him wondered if he should feel guilty about the warlock’s part in Fraser’s fate, he knew better. Evil had been at the root of what happened, not Bryce. He was just a victim too. And the gods knew Fraser was just as much a victim. Not just because of where he was and what he had become, but because he hadn’t ended up with Jessie.
When she wrapped her arms around Bryce's shoulders, and their lips met again, thoughts of his cousin faded. Instead, he became as lost as before not just by the feel of her lips but by the confident way she moved against him.
Though she should probably try to block their mental connection a little, she found following his thoughts and emotions enthralling.
His arousal and need screamed up so fast inside him that he thrust against her instinctually. When she groaned her approval, he only grew more desperate. So desperate that he took immediate action.
Rather than waste a few precious seconds falling to the bunk, he yanked off his plaid, shoved her dress higher and took her right there. She released a ragged cry then bit down near the nape of his neck. Fueled by her animalistic response and the exquisite feeling of being inside her, he began thrusting.
It didn’t matter if the ship was swaying, he had never felt more steady and driven. He wanted to feel her over and over and push her to peak again and again. He wanted to hear her cries of pleasure as she found her fulfillment.
Which, as it turned out, happened rather fast.
She bit harder when her body began to shudder then she let go with a strangled moan. He paused, enjoying not just the pinch of her passionate bite, but the feel of her climax. As soon as she began to relax and her teeth let go, he resumed kissing her.
Then, still inside her, he lowered her to the bunk and started moving again. This time, he seemed determined to draw out her experience as he took it slow at first. But that only lasted so long. They were too eager. Greedy. Desperate.
Sweat slicked them as their passion increased. He particularly liked when she rode him, so she spent ample time doing just that. Not tentative in the least, it took her no time to move her hips just the way he liked. She felt emboldened and pleased as he imagined he would like anything she did and any way she moved.
She offered a womanly smile at those thoughts. The sort of smile that promised she would offer him far more. That she had no doubt of the pleasure she could give.
In fact, she did such a good job of it that she never made it beneath him again before he gave into her feminine powers and released hard. Soon after, she followed, digging her nails into his chest as she locked up and then melted down against him.
Neither said anything for a while as he stroked her back languidly.
Eventually, she murmured, “I think I’m making up for a lot of lost time.”
“Aye,” he rumbled, smiling. “’Tis verra good for me that ye are. I particularly like the feel of ye in my mind so thoroughly too. ‘Tis even more arousing somehow.”
In agreement, she chuckled as she remained focused on making up for lost time. “I hope you still feel that way a year from now because I have a feeling it might only get worse.”
“Worse?” He shook his head. “It could never get worse but only better.”
She smiled as she whispered, “I have a feeling you’re right.”
They talked for a while after that and continued getting to know each other better.
“You’re a verra dynamic person considering you’ve lived such a lonely, sheltered existence,” he said softly, flattering her not just with words but with his thoughts. He appreciated her intelligence and her zest to always learn more.
“Thank you. I read a lot,” she explained. “The warlocks thought it was all in preparation for destroying Scotland and learning about herbs and such but it wasn’t.” She remained on top of him, her chin propped on her hands as she looked at him. “While I certainly loved learning things, especially history, I enjoyed fiction too.”
He continued running his fingers here and there over her back, renewing her arousal all over again as he murmured, “Aye?”
“Sure. Just about every genre too.” Though she smiled, she knew a touch of sadness reflected in her eyes. “Even romance.”
“’Tis good,” he murmured, well aware her sadness came from the loneliness she had felt. The love she never thought would be hers. “Romance is good, aye?”
“Yes it is,” she whispered as their eyes held and fire flared. “Better than any book portrays it actually.”
As to be expected from that point one thing led to another, and they made love again before they drifted off to sleep. Then dreams came and went, but she always seemed to return to the same one.
A memory from her past.
She stood in a small clearing in the Maine forest of her youth wishing it could stay summer forever. She wished she could stay in this spot. But winter would come, and with it, the trees would go to sleep. When they did, though their barren branches would allow more sunlight through, it wouldn’t matter. The warlocks always moved around more when the trees rested. When their Earthly protection waned. That’s when they got even closer to her.
More so, the one that wanted her in a different way than the others.
“Do you not like when I can come closer?” he said softly from the shadows. “Does it no longer please you like it once did?”
A strange mix of chills and longing rippled through her as their eyes met. This was always when she lost perspective. When he looked at her the way she imagined his other half would. The man whose s
hadow he seemed to have stolen.
“I do want you to come closer,” she whispered. “Just not them.” She shook her head. “Not the others.”
“But they love you,” he responded, his dark eyes narrowed against the sunlight. “Just like I do.”
Though it might seem it to them, she knew love was the furthest thing from what they felt. She wasn’t about to say as much though.
“Come, be with me,” he urged, using the voice that tempted her. That made her imagine he was someone else. That normal desires were possible. “Why stand alone in the sun when we can be together in the shade?”
The way he said it, the genuine need he felt, called to her.
He was her other half.
Her soul mate.
“Yes,” he whispered. He seemed to follow her thoughts as he held out his hand. “I am he. I always have been. Come to me, lass.”
He did that sometimes. Spoke with a particular brogue she knew belonged to another. Lured her into a trance as she envisioned the man he could never be. Yet, at that moment, in that memory, he was him. He wasn’t dark and foreboding but tall and muscled and handsome.
Bryce...
She never said his name out loud, but she went to him, leaving the sunlight behind. Suddenly, just like the memory itself, she fell into nothingness, the dream ended abruptly, and her eyes shot open. Bryce’s did as well, and his arms tightened around her momentarily as if he was catching her. As though he had just experienced the same dream or memory.
“You were there, weren’t you?” she whispered. “Back at the clearing in the woods in Maine.”
“Aye,” he replied as they sat up. “I was part of the warlock again. Part of...”
When he trailed off with a frown, she looked at him in question. “What happened when I came to you?” She shook her head. “Because though that actually happened, I have no memory after the moment I headed for the warlock and entered the shadows.”
Troubled, he sat on the edge of the bunk and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I knew a moment ago...upon awakening, but it’s fading so fast.” He shook his head as he concentrated. “He pulled you into his arms then he did something to you.”
Frustrated, he stood and scowled as he braced his hand against the wall. “Something you didn’t expect. Something that bonded you to him in a whole new way.”
Just as frustrated, she stood and began dressing. “What we just dreamt happened before the other dream you had. So I think the moment we just shared was what the warlock was referring to. What he meant when he said that though I don’t remember it yet, I’m already his and will recall it when I least expect it.”
“Aye, I think you’re right, lass,” Bryce agreed as he pulled on a dark tunic and wrapped his plaid. “’Twould do us both good to give this a great deal of thought as we continue our journey. Because I sense whatever he has planned will be happening verra soon.”
She nodded. “You’re sensing him more and more, aren’t you?”
“I am,” he replied as they put on their boots. “I had several dreams last night.” His eyes softened as they went to hers. “Dreams of you when you were younger. Moments we shared.”
Though she knew he struggled with the idea that he and the warlock were so connected, it was good that he was starting to accept it. He needed to embrace it as much as possible to better their chances of staying one step ahead of their enemy.
Before they headed upstairs, he cupped her cheeks, brushed his lips across hers and murmured, “I am glad, however obtuse, that I was somewhat there for you, lass. And though I dinnae like that evil was so close to you, I look forward to remembering more. To seeing you grow into the woman you are today.”
His words meant more than he knew. That he wanted to be a part of her life, no matter how dark it had been. In turn, she was grateful that thanks to Erin, she had so many memories of his upbringing as well.
Speaking of family, his was rather upbeat by the time they joined them. But then this was a day none thought they would be part of. Graham and Christina had come aboard earlier, choosing to stay with them rather than continue the journey with John.
Soon after, he and his men waved goodbye, their spirits high as they left. The day Aðísla had been so concerned about arriving was here, and things were going as they should.
John was heading up the Forth to Culross to report that Angus Og’s fleet was in the Tay and had already sent scouting ships down to the Farne islands and the Bass Rock with more galleys sent on to blockade the Humber, Bridlington, Whitby, Hartlepool, and Tynemouth.
It seemed the bulk of Angus’ fleet had continued south early that morning to prepare for battle. As it was reported, they enjoyed fair winds so should make good time.
“’Twill be a good day for John when he arrives,” Bryce commented.
“Aye.” Graham grinned. “’Tis not every day King Robert is so delighted by news that he knights its messenger straightaway.”
Everyone smiled, sure to keep the news from Angus who would find out eventually.
“Aye, then,” Angus roared to his crew. “Let’s go join our brothers-in-arms and see if we cannae capture a Sassenach ship or two for our good King!”
A huge roar of approval followed as men began to row. As it turned out, the winds had died off a few hours ago, so Conall again came in handy as gusts filled their sail and they were off. Like before, Angus tossed them each an apple then tried to pry information out of them. What could they expect from the upcoming battle? Would they be victorious?
“We’ll not be telling ye a thing,” Adlin replied. “Only help ye however we can.”
Angus grinned and shook his head, clearly confident enough in current events that he would do just fine. And it truly did prove quite favorable that Conall created his winds and moved them faster because as they approached Bass Rock, an English fleet appeared on the horizon.
That in itself wasn’t so alarming.
They were supposed to be there.
What was daunting and unexpected, however, was the sheer amount of battle hardened Englishmen aboard.
Chapter Fourteen
BRYCE AND HIS cousins couldn’t contain their anticipation if they tried. Though it hadn’t been all that long since battling in Bannockburn, they were eager for more Sassenach blood. Still decades away from cannons on ships, it would come down to naval prowess and hand-to-hand combat. By the looks of it, the ships would be coming in close enough to each other for a bloody good battle.
Though the English fleet counted more than Angus anticipated, it likely would not matter. Especially with his newfound friends along including, undoubtedly, Christina and her godlike warrioress abilities.
“I dinnae think magic will be all that necessary this time,” Adlin remarked, grinning.
“But if it is,” Lindsay chimed in. “I can always take care of it afterwards.”
“Aye, lass,” Conall murmured, pulling her close. “But mayhap ‘tis best this time if you dinnae have to.”
Bryce winked at Jessie and chuckled. Truth told, his cousin probably wanted to take a rest from so many men adoring his lass.
“Archers take up positions,” Angus roared at his crew as he drew his sword. “Weapons at the ready! We’ll be on ‘em soon, lads!”
Though the rest of his fleet had already arrived and were prepared for battle, it clearly bolstered them that their chieftain had joined in the fun.
“Have ye a spare bow and some arrows around, Laird MacDonald?” Bryce said, missing his favored set. “Though I fight well with anything, ‘tis my weapon of choice.”
“Aye, laddie.” He gestured at a compartment beneath a bench. “Help yerself.” Then he nodded at another location. “Ye’ll find a variety of blades over there.”
Bryce nodded and found a bow suited to his size, a sword, and some daggers before he focused on Jessie. “As ye’ve no experience fighting, I think ye should stay below deck.”
She only smiled and shook her head.
Christina, it
seemed, decided to answer for her. “Seriously, Bryce? Fighting aside, you did see what she was capable of in the firth, right?”
“Aye,” he said proudly before he shook his head and frowned. Like it or not, Christina was right. Jessie could more than handle herself. Yet his rapidly growing love for her disallowed him from feeling anything but protective. What if she got distracted and an arrow slipped by her defenses? What if worry over her friends drew her attention away long enough that a blade ended her?
What it all broke down to was one simple fact.
He couldn’t bear losing her.
“You won’t lose me,” she said softly as she rested her hand on his chest and met his eyes. “I’ve come way too far to finally be with you to let anything take me away from you now.”
“Aye, then,” was all he could manage, touched by the raw emotion in her gaze. For a moment it felt like those dark eyes of hers wrapped right around his soul and pulled him even closer.
There were a hundred different ways he wanted to say how he felt but couldn’t come up with a bloody word. So he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. As usual, that wasn’t the best move to make when he should be focusing on other things. She had a way of making everything else fade away. Of taking his mind somewhere soft and warm and very, very arousing.
Seconds later, however, he had no choice but to snap out of it as an arrow whizzed by.
“Bloody hell,” he grumbled as he spun, leapt onto a bench, focused and began shooting arrows at the oncoming ship.
After that, the battling began.
Weapons drawn and roars aplenty, men leapt from ship to ship and began fighting one another. Graham, Conall, and Adlin crossed blades with several men at once as Bryce kept shooting off arrows. He took down one, two, three, four Sassenach in rapid succession before he lost a clear shot.
He needed more visibility.
“Go!” Christina roared as she crossed swords with an oncoming soldier. “I’ll stay close to Jessie. Don’t you worry about that, darlin’.”
Avenged by a Highland Laird (The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning Book 4) Page 19
