A bout of dizziness threw him off-balance. He wiped the sweat from his brow and fretted over this new development. He might have been capable of acting as laird over a hundred kinsfolk. He would have built them homes and kept them safe through political relations with the Laird of Luss, but the men that awaited them in Finglas Gorge had been abandoned by Da. They wouldn’t follow Reid into battle.
Unless they had no one else to follow.
Reid mulled that thought around in his head until they at last arrived at the Well of Sacrifice. While Kante and the others cleared the perimeter, Reid peered over the edge of the well. The distance to the water’s surface was three, possibly four hundred feet down.
A rock bounced of the stone wall and disappeared before the plop could be heard.
“Holy Christ!” Unbalanced, Eoin faltered backward.
Mayhap the next time Eoin found himself in peril, Reid wouldn’t save him.
* * *
Preparing for the expedition, Robbie pulled strips of dried meat from the grate and listened to Black Dove argue with Yellow Peacock. One didn’t have to speak the language fluently to know Black Dove was winning. The hopeful faces of the other children peeking in the open doorway slowly fell as the conversation progressed.
Their appointed leader must be failing her task.
Robbie cocked her head over her shoulder and caught Yellow Peacock pointing at her. Robbie’s gut sank. The last thing she wanted was to be the cause of their argument.
Black Dove scowled at her daughter and stabbed a finger toward the garden. “Go! Help yer aunties collect fruit for the morrow. All o’ ye!” she yelled in a tempt-me-not tone. “White Serpent will be home soon enough.”
Defeated, Yellow Peacock moped out the door. The other Mopán children followed, each of their shoulders fell as they dragged their bare feet through the garden path.
Black Dove sighed and wrapped several strips of dried meat in a wide green leaf. “Pray forgive them. The older they get, the faster they grow weary.”
“Of course.” Robbie offered forgiveness with complete understanding. Auld Angus’s granddaughters were restless from dawn to dusk. “But how will White Serpent’s return affect their current state of boredom?”
“He taught the bairns new games e’ery Sabbath afore he sailed for your Scotland. I fear he spoiled them.”
This explanation brought a smile to Robbie’s lips. Reid enjoyed sharing his knowledge. Picturing him at play with the children made her long for the babe she was not yet carrying. He would be disappointed that her monthly flow had come, but in Robbie’s way of thinking ’twas for the best until they were settled in Scotland.
Someday she would have her family. Someday.
For the nonce, mayhap she could teach the Mopán children a game. “I could show them one of the games my grandda taught me.”
Black Dove’s smile split over white teeth. “Och! They would like that.”
“What kind of games did White Serpent teach them?”
“Draughts, fivestones, barley-break, glic—”
“Glic? Is that not a game of wagers?”
“Aye. The bairns play with cacao beans.” She tapped her finger against her thick lips. “Come to think on it, Henrik taught them glic while White Serpent was away on business.” Black Dove filled another leaf with meat strips. “Did he tell ye about his ventures?”
Robbie simply nodded and listened to Black Dove prattle on about the value of their heartwood trees. Every time she spoke of the future, Robbie felt as if she were betraying a friend. And if truth be told, she was.
“Will ye be accompanying White Serpent in the spring to barter the timber?”
A bout of nausea curled through Robbie’s gut. She could answer Black Dove’s question with a simple no. It would not be a lie, but nor would it be the full truth. And the truth was, Reid wouldn’t barter timber in the spring, nor would he teach the Mopán bairns any more games.
“Walk with me.” Robbie hooked her arm through Black Dove’s and led the way into the garden. “After the expedition, White Serpent and I are returning to Scotland to help my people.”
Black Dove nodded with indifference, as if she’d expected as much.
“We are not coming back,” Robbie added and was not quite prepared for the sorrow that accompanied her words. It felt like a twisting dagger in her heart.
Black Dove cocked her head, her black brows rose. “Ever?”
Robbie shook her head, confused by the emotions thickening in her throat. Why was this so difficult? She hardly knew these people.
“Ye dinnae like it here?” Black Dove splayed her arms to encompass Rukux as a whole. Gentle Fawn’s basket overflowed with fruit, and the children were now fast at play chasing Wild Tigress around the base of the windmill.
“I like it here verra much.” Guilt accompanied her statement. Rukux was everything she’d dreamed about for so long, but it was in the wrong country and with the wrong people. “Please try to understand. I have loved ones in Scotland who are not privy to such comforts. They have no home and need a leader like White Serpent to save them. It pains me to take him from ye, but I fear I’ve no choice.”
Black Dove stared blankly into the garden for long moments with her lips parted slightly. “White Serpent has been a part of our family for half my life. Da will be much saddened, as will my husband.” Her bottom lip quivered, her dark eyes glossed with tears. “But none will miss him more than my daughter.”
That statement triggered an onslaught of tears to rush over Robbie’s cheeks. She swiped at her eyes as Yellow Peacock skipped toward them full of youth and innocence.
“’Tis best if Jax and I tell her.” Black Dove turned away from her approaching daughter. “Mayhap, ye can teach them one o’ your games whilst my sisters and I prepare for the e’en meal.”
“Of course.” Robbie managed to gather her wits by the time Yellow Peacock was upon her. She pasted on a smile and squat before the child. “Have ye ever played Harry Hurcheon?”
* * *
“What happened to Loki after he killed Balder?” Yellow Peacock prodded Robbie, her brown eyes wide with intrigue. The two were curled up in one of the cushioned chairs beside the hearth, and Yellow Peacock was the only child Robbie hadn’t put to sleep with her story.
“They bound him and placed a snake above his head so its venom would drip onto him,” Robbie continued, mindlessly stroking the girl’s soft skin.
“And this is how he died?”
“Nay.” Robbie popped Yellow Peacock’s nose with the tip of her finger. “That is a story for another night.”
Black Dove appeared beside them, hand extended, eyes centered on her daughter. The woman’s indifferent manner should be expected, but that made it nonetheless bitter to swallow. “Come, Yellow Peacock. ’Tis past your slumber time.”
“You tell good stories.” Yellow Peacock wrapped her small arms around Robbie’s neck and then kissed her chin. “I’m happy White Serpent made you his woman.”
And with these parting words, Robbie was left alone in the massive chair with naught but her thoughts and the lingering aroma of cacao butter—the Mopán people’s scent. Reid’s scent.
He was so much a part of these people’s lives. The way they lived wasn’t so different from the way the clan used to live years ago. The evening meal, the games, the storytelling…It all reminded her of the happier times she’d spent at Kilchurn Castle when Calum MacGregor was laird.
Myah set a bowl of nuts on the table beside the chair across from Robbie. The monkey crept into the corner of the chair and circled several times before she finally sat. The beastie made a whimpering noise that sounded much like a sob and stared at Robbie with huge dark eyes.
“I miss him, too.” Her head fell back on the armrest. She’d never felt so sad, so alone, and the thought of retiring to their empty bed made her feel cold inside and out. Her heart beat became slow inside her chest, verra slow, as if his absence caused her life force to fade.
Without you, the Rukux has no reason to beat.
She didn’t want to be apart from him, at the same time she didn’t know if she could bear to watch him leave everything and everyone he loved. A tear fell over her cheek as she watched the tapers burn to stubs in the candelabra overhead. Her lids slid shut.
A jingle sounded out the open doorway—the trap Jax and Moon Hawk had set two days past.
Robbie’s eyes snapped back open.
Myah squealed and disappeared into the rafters just as Kantico slunk over the threshold.
Holy Loki! Robbie’s eyes rounded, her throat swelled with a fear that strangled her scream.
The beast’s ears laid back, her whiskers twitched.
“Jax!” Robbie bellowed and inched onto the armrest staring into the jaguar’s yellow eyes.
The single beat of her heart pounded between her ears, then a whirring noise blew past her. Jax’s spear stuck in the animal’s throat the same time Robbie saw a spotted cub weaving unsteadily around Kantico’s massive paws.
A horrendous howl echoed throughout the ceiling.
“No!” Robbie launched out of the chair and fell to her knees beside the enormous beast. Without thought, she yanked the spear out of Kantico’s neck.
The jaguar cried out then collapsed onto the floor.
Deep red blood spilled into her tawny fur and filled the spaces between Robbie’s trembling fingers as she pressed her hands against the gushing wound. “Noooo!” she cried.
Chaos erupted from behind in the form of gasps and terrified screams.
Robbie jerked her head over her shoulder to find men, women, and children gathered round the far wall. “Help her!” she pleaded on a sob, but naught could be done.
She watched the life fade from Kantico’s golden eyes, then the rise and fall of her ribs suddenly ceased. The jaguar had brought her cub to Rukux. She wasn’t going to hurt anyone.
Robbie convulsed with emotions, feeling responsible for the death of this beautiful creature. Staring at her blood-soaked hands, her mind went numb for a bliss-filled moment, then the shock of it all filled her insides with ice. She shook with an intensity that jarred her bones. She was cold, so very cold.
“This is my fault,” she whispered and watched the cub nuzzle against Kantico’s belly. “I am to blame.”
Kantico was only the first of many things she would take from Reid. And with each grievance, he would eventually come to regret making her his wife.
20
~ GUILT ~
Robbie waded through the cluster of children frolicking in the pond and propped her elbows onto the flat rock where Wild Tigress gazed tenderly at the jaguar cub sleeping in her lap. “And how is our wee Pepem doing?”
“She is fair.” Wild Tigress set the empty milk sack aside and rubbed the cub’s round belly. “And fat.” She beamed a wide smile full of white teeth when the beastie yawned. “And lazy.” A deep silken laugh bubbled out of her throat, but Robbie no longer looked at the exotic women with eyes full of envy. S’truth, the beastie had showed Robbie a side of Wild Tigress that was loving and nurturing and kind.
When Jax insisted Pepem be taken back into the jungle to fend for herself, Wild Tigress had defended Robbie’s decision to care for Kantico’s offspring. They’d spent sleepless nights teaching the hungry cub to drink from the milk sack, and within those hours Robbie managed to break down the wall Wild Tigress had built between them. Behind was a vulnerable woman who sought love, happiness, and companionship—a woman not so different from Robbie.
A splash of water arced over Robbie’s head and sent Pepem into a sneezing fit.
Wild Tigress hissed words at the children in the Mopán language as she protectively pushed water droplets from Pepem’s whiskers, but before she could coo the wee beastie back to sleep, Myah dropped from an overhead branch to cause a ruckus of her own. The monkey squealed and bobbed to and fro like an excited child.
A winded Black Dove entered the garden holding the sides of her belly. “They’ve returned.”
Robbie followed the children out of the water with an urgency that knocked her heartbeat out of cadence. She’d grown accustomed to their state of undress and gave no thought to the fact that her undershift clung to her body like a second skin. She stepped into the open beside Black Dove and followed the woman’s gaze to the band of men walking in arrow formation past the outbuilding.
Reid led the pack, his strides wide, his approach commanding. The instant his eyes locked with hers, his unshaven jaw angled. The look of intensity tightening his face was startling, if not somewhat frightening.
Air stuck in her throat. Her skin pebbled. “White Serpent looks a wee bit…different. Does he not?”
Black Dove’s chuckle seemed misplaced. “Ye are in a heap o’ trouble, lass.”
“Trouble?” Robbie asked without taking her eyes from her husband. Something was definitely amiss.
“I’ve seen that look on Jax.”
“What look?” A sense of panic twirled through Robbie’s gut.
“’Tis the look a mon wears when he’s been away too long and is about to have monkey sex with his woman.”
Monkey sex? Robbie’s chin turned toward Black Dove, but her stare remained fixed on Reid in disbelief. The man had always displayed unwavering control. He wasn’t the type to—
He tore off his lèine shirt and threw it to the ground.
Robbie’s eyes widened and dried. She swallowed.
“Ye best start runnin’.”
Robbie heeded Black Dove’s suggestion and shot through the towers of Rukux with a speed that might have impressed Jax. She bolted through the hall, the armory, and then into the sweet-scented garden where the windmill’s blades cast moving shadows across a sea of lush green foliage. She paused to gather her breath as well as her wits.
Blast her foolishness! This was madness. Reid was the most mild-tempered man she’d ever known. He did nothing hastily. Mayhap something had happened between Reid and Eoin. Mayhap they’d discovered something unexpected at the well. She peeked over her shoulder and found his massive frame emerging through the open doorway.
His boots were gone as well as his stockings. He unlaced his breeks.
“Holy Loki,” she whispered as heat churned low in her belly.
She sprinted into the jungle, weaving through vines and thick foliage. A flock of colorful birds erupted through a canopy of leaves overhead. The squealing sounds of the howler monkeys followed her progress, intensifying the chase.
He stalked her. His crushing steps escalated into a run behind her.
She rounded a monstrous tree and flattened her back against the solidity of its trunk, her bare feet positioned between the forks of its large roots. Anticipation curled her toes in the debris, her fingernails dug into the bark. She waited, breathless, chest burning, delirious with the thought of someone desiring her to the point of lunacy. She moistened her dry lips and squeezed her aching breasts, surprised by the fierceness of her own need.
He ran passed her then stopped, searching, but her audible panting easily gave her away. His head whipped to the side before the rest of his body, and it was then she saw the hunger in his darkening eyes, the savagery that made her feel like a lamb in the lion’s den.
Her heart stopped for a fleeting second, then he was on her. He wrapped his hand around the front of her neck and dragged the pad of his thumb down the base of her chin. His muscles flexed. His unshaven jaw tightened. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. The wild look in his eyes spoke volumes.
“Welcome—”
He slammed his mouth to hers, stealing her greeting. His fingers wove through her damp hair to hold her in place as he delved deep into the hollows of her mouth. Their teeth scraped, their tongues twirled. His kiss was harsh, demanding, but brief.
“Remove your undershift.” His voice cracked with the order.
A brow slid up her forehead. “Ye’ve had a sennight to prepare words for your homecoming. Have ye nothing more poetic to offe
r your wife?” she teased dangerously and nipped at his shoulder, his chest. He tasted of salt and musk, and she wanted to sample every delicious inch of him.
“By God’s legions, woman. I’m in no mood for play.”
“Where is my gentle giant?” Her fingers glided over his stiff nipple and down his sweat-slick abdomen, but stopped just above his navel.
He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. His muscles tensed beneath her fingertips.
“Where is the man who speaks romantic words about butterflies and dreams?”
“Eoin choked him to death in the jungle.” Reid pulled his cock from his breeks and pumped it with his fist as he descended on her breast. His hot mouth molded over her nipple through the wet material of her undershift, sending waves of ecstasy straight into her core.
A whimper blew passed her lips. She arced her back, then pulled the corner of her lip between her teeth when her shoulders blades pressed into rough bark. When he bit her tight bud, her womanhood kicked, fluttered, and swelled.
She pushed him off her, desperate to be rid of the material keeping his mouth from her breast, but he stood upright and stared at her with eyes nigh black with carnal need. “I love you.”
She tried to process those words in the half second it took him to hook her leg over his inner elbow. This was not love, this was sex. Why did men confuse the two? Why did those three words seem to slip so easily from their tongues when their bollocks were blue? And why—?
He drew the head of his cock through her wet folds then thrust inside her. A groan of hoarse male pleasure vibrated out of his throat. His fingers dug into her flesh. “Oh, God! Ye feel good.”
His hips bucked, penetrating her with another inch. He was feral, the dominant species forcing her to submit to his superior strength. Her woman’s sheath stretched to accommodate the girth of his shaft as he withdrew and plunged deeper again and again.
The howler monkeys screamed overhead, offering their approval of the primitive coupling.
In, out, in, out. Her body responded to the friction. Her climax rose and teetered on the edge of what promised to be pure rapture, but her heart wept inside her chest. She felt betrayed by his words. She looked at his face as he drew closer to release and was reminded of the only other man who’d claimed to love her.
Caribbean Scot Page 19
