Caribbean Scot

by Kimberly Killion

  The blood in Reid’s veins coursed through his body like scalding lava then spiraled through his bollocks on the brink of eruption. Everything about her enticed him—the floral scent of her hair, the velvety softness of her skin, the way she squeaked every time he touched the pleasure spot deep inside her.

  He felt crazed but could do naught to control his actions. The sennight he’d spent away from her only aggravated his obsession for her. He’d thought of her day and night, had gratified himself with her memory in the hopes of satisfying her when this moment arrived. But he was going to fail miserably.

  His tight sac drew up against the base of his cock. The muscles in his arms and legs burned. A loud vibrating grunt hung in his throat as liquid fire streaked through his erection.

  “Damn the Devil!” He withdrew on a frustrated moan and fell to his knees before her. Holding his cock in a rigid grasp, he shot his seed onto the bark of the heartwood tree between her ankles.

  Mortified by his performance, he hung his head low and waited for the blinding specks of white light to fade.

  “Well, that was bluidy familiar,” she quipped with a sarcasm that made him feel all the more repulsed by his barbaric behavior.

  He raised his chin and found her eyes—those emerald eyes that often pleaded with him, that begged him to do her bidding. The same eyes currently staring down at him in disappointment.

  “I daresay ye have spent far too much time in Eoin’s company.”

  He hugged her around the hips, pressing his forehead against the flat plain of her belly. “Forgive me. That was not me.”

  She stroked his hair, surprising him with her gentleness. “What happened to the man determined to plant a child in my womb?”

  Eoin had gotten into Reid’s head. His cousin had talked nonstop of his plans to invade Kilchurn Castle. The scabbit made war sound glorious.

  A MacGregor who dies old and withered is a coward, Eoin had said, playing on Reid’s guilt. Damn if the fool hadn’t made sense during those speeches.

  Trying to regain some semblance of dignity, Reid tucked his spent cock back into his breeks and then kissed Robbie’s belly before he slowly rose upright. “As much as I desire to see ye round with our babe, I’ll not saddle ye with a child if I’m to die saving the clan.”

  Robbie’s eyes twitched, then grew wide. Her palm flattened against her chest. “Dinnae say such things. Ye…ye…cannae say such things to me in jest or otherwise.”

  “’Tis no jest. Eoin sent word of an uprising into the Highlands before we left Scotland. He is intent on going to war.”

  She pushed him away, but immediately pulled him back into her now trembling arms. “We are not going to war. Ye are not going to die.”

  While she hadn’t returned his words of love earlier, her fierce reaction gave him hope that some tender sentiments might be cultivating in that bitter heart of hers. “Careful, love, else I might actually think you hold affections for me.” He winked, feeling a little full of himself.

  She whopped him upside the head. “Have ye knots for brains? We’ve been handfasted less than a fortnight. Think ye I am eager to become a widow?” The look puckering her face was altogether new. It was that look a woman gets just before she bursts into tears. “We are not going to war.”

  “Shhh, love,” he cooed and kissed her knuckles. “What Eoin did was not completely asinine.” While Reid didn’t relish the idea of a revolt, Eoin had been wise to solicit aide in the event all didn’t go as planned.

  Reid held Robbie’s hand and explained Eoin’s intentions as he guided her through the jungle to the beach. She stared at an island sitting atop a vast plain of aqua-blue water, contemplating all that he told her.

  “Let Eoin gather these men he’s called down.” She twirled a honey-red curl round and round her finger. “While he is playing laird, ye will meet with the Laird of Luss in a tippling house in Rosneath. Somewhere non-threatening.” She walked through a white foam surf and made her own alterations to Eoin’s plans. “Get the man blootered and talk of politics. Every red-blooded Scot hates the bluidy English. Ye will have that in common. Ease into talk of aligning the clans as a defense. ’Tis what men do when they barter, aye?” She glanced at him, her eyes unfocused with thought.

  Reid nodded, thinking himself fortunate to have her as an advisor.

  “Let the Laird of Luss know ye are against Eoin’s war and that ye only seek peace for the MacGregors. Naught more.”

  “If I inform him of Eoin’s intentions, then the Colquhoun’s will be prepared when we attack.”

  She spun, her emerald eyes sharp and unyielding. “There will not be an attack as we are not going to war.”

  Reid simply nodded once. Arguing with her here and now was pointless and talk of war only caused her upset.

  “I can assure ye the Laird of Luss is already aware of the uprising. ’Tis why it is important for ye to succeed in wheedling the man into your favor. Buy him drinks and see to it a loose woman or mayhap two fall into his lap. When his spirits are high, offer him coin for Rannoch.”

  “Rannoch is not big enough to accommodate a clan of nigh six hundred. And I fear a man of his status will require more than gold and women to relinquish Kilchurn Castle.”

  “Have ye a suggestion?”

  Of course he did. He’d had time aplenty to contemplate a hundred different ideas, but he doubted Robbie would warm to any of them. “Mayhap a betrothal would tie the clans together.”

  Robbie gave him a sidelong glance. “A betrothal? The Laird of Luss has only sons. Bastaird sons at that.”

  “Auld Angus’s granddaughters are my cousins through marriage,” he suggested and peeked at her through one eye.

  “Nay. They are but weans. Not a day over ten winters.” Robbie’s head shook venomously, her hands curled into fists. “Those bastairds branded Cait and Anice. I’ll not allow ye to force a lifetime of conjugal rape on either of them simply because no one else will have them.”

  Reid’s gaze fell upon the scar on Robbie’s cheek. “Do you hold the same opinion about yourself? Did you give yourself to Eoin because you felt no one else would have you?”

  She didn’t cower before him. In fact, his question raised her proud chin higher and made her nostrils flare. “Eoin chose me. Women of my status have few options. And a woman bearing the mark of a MacGregor have no options at all save for a marriage within the clan.”

  He couldn’t bring himself to ask the questions now dangling on the tip of his tongue. Was she with him because she felt she had no choice? And worse, did she feel his savage performance in the jungle was naught more than conjugal rape?

  Repulsed by his thoughts, Reid gathered a handful of shells and tossed each one with vicious enthusiasm into the water.

  “You’ll not use any of my kinswomen in your bartering, nor will ye sacrifice lives for Kilchurn Castle.”

  “Am I to lead the clan or you?” he snapped at her, his tone reflecting his frustration. The instant the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. He couldn’t lead the clan without her.

  Her shoulders fell a little, her fists loosened. “As your wife, I should think we would lead them together.”

  Reid reached out to push a wild curl behind her ear, but she flinched away as if he intended to strike her. He wrapped his hands around her shoulders instead. “There are still two tasks we must complete prior to meeting with the Laird of Luss.” Sadly, discovering Xitali’s library no longer seemed to be a part of their goals. That dream died in the jungle with Eoin’s war. Reid hid his disappointment behind a feigned smile. “We must obtain the gold as well as acquire the edict from King James.”

  Robbie nodded her agreement on a sigh.

  “Be patient, love.” He caught her chin and was thankful she allowed his touch. “All will be right someday.”

  A half-hearted chuckle warbled in her throat. “I’ve been chasing someday the whole of my life. I fear I will never catch it.”

  He kissed the skin beneath her
lobe. “’Tis the chase that makes the reward so desirable.”

  Robbie’s fingertips feathered over his chest and just as he might have swindled a kiss from her sweet lips a squeal sounded behind them.

  “White Serpent!” Yellow Peacock barreled toward him, half-skipping, half-running across the beach. A small beastie trailed behind in her footsteps not even trying to keep up with her.

  “She is verra fond of ye.” Robbie stepped out of Reid’s arms.

  “I know. ’Twill be difficult to leave her.” S’truth, it was going to be difficult to leave all of them. They were his family, his brothers and sisters, his nieces and nephews. B’alam had been like a father to him, but they would get along without him. He didn’t belong here anymore.

  At least that was what he continued to tell himself.

  He pasted on a smile, caught Yellow Peacock around the waist, and propped her in the crook of his arm. Her bright eyes warmed him instantly. “How is my favorite Pea-nut?” He grabbed hold of her head and turned it this way and that, studying her with exaggerated drama. “I dare say your brain is bigger.”

  She giggled and kissed his chin. “I learned about Loki and Balder and Odin and—”

  “The Norse gods?” Reid’s brows rose.

  “Aye.” She flattened her palms against the sides of Reid’s head and brushed noses with him. “My brain will soon be bigger than yours.”

  Reid laughed outright. God, he loved this child. She had so much potential.

  “Did Water Butterfly tell ye about Pepem?” she asked.

  “Who is Water Butterfly? And who is Pepem?”

  “Water Butterfly is your woman, ye dunderheid.” The wee lass rolled her dark eyes expertly and squirmed out of his arms.

  Reid turned toward Robbie. “B’alam gave you a new name while I was away?”

  Her gaze shot out over the ocean, and her fingers quickly went to work twirling her hair. “In a matter of speaking. I decided it was inappropriate for the children to call me Handful of Seed, so I told them B’alam would like for them to call me Water Butterfly.”

  “Robbie!” Reid scolded her, but chuckled on the inside. “Ye cannae give yourself a name. Ye must—”

  “Ack! I know. I know. I must earn it. But I think Water Butterfly suits me, aye?”

  Reid blew a breath and nodded. What did it matter? Their time here grew shorter with every passing day. “It suits you well.”

  The cub licking his bare ankle drew his attention downward. He squatted beside Yellow Peacock and scrubbed the beast’s ears.

  “This is Pepem,” Yellow Peacock informed him. “She is the jaguar’s cub.”

  “Did Jax trap Kantico?” Reid looked to Robbie for explanation and saw the sadness welling up in her eyes. She shook her head.

  “Da had to kill Pepem’s mam. He said she had too much wild in her to tame.”

  Reid closed his eyes and pushed down the grief trying to surface. ’Twas for the best. Kantico posed a threat to Jax’s family. He would have forever worried about Yellow Peacock and the babe Black Dove would deliver come spring. Rukux was safer with Kantico gone.

  The cub licked his palm with a sandy tongue. “You are taking good care of Pepem, then?”

  Yellow Peacock shrugged. “Wild Tigress is piggish with her, but she needs someone to care for. Mam has Da, and Gentle Fawn and Stream Dancer have Bow Hunter and Moon Hawk.”

  Those words reminded Reid of the task he needed to complete before leaving the Yucatán. “Come. We’ve a feast to prepare for.”

  Yellow Peacock snapped upright. “A wedding feast?”

  “Aye.” The instant the word left his mouth Yellow Peacock was gone. No doubt racing back to Rukux to spread the word.

  He offered Robbie his hand and didn’t miss the excitement lifting her countenance.

  Her eyes glittered like polished emeralds. “We are celebrating our vows?”

  Why did he feel like he was constantly disappointing her? “I made a promise to Songbird, and I intend to fulfill it before we leave for Scotland.”

  “Of course.” Her chin fell, her hands clasped together in front of her. At the very least she should be wearing his ring.

  “If you are wanting a wedding, I promise to seek out a priest—”

  “Nay. ’Tis not necessary.” When she strode passed him, he felt the cold breeze of her bitterness brush across his heart.

  * * *

  The drums ceased, and the natives grew silent the instant the Jaguar King rose from his throne. “Victor of the hunt rise and step forward.”

  Robbie wasn’t the least bit surprised when Henrik emerged from the hordes of people gathered round a crackling fire in the garden of Rukux.

  “I am the victor,” Henrik yelled out and hastily approached the elevated dais.

  The Jaguar King’s jeweled smile revealed his approval as he splayed his arms toward Wild Tigress and a highly decorated Songbird. “Choose.”

  Robbie leaned into Reid’s side. “I wonder who he’ll choose?” she asked in a hushed tone that held more than a hint of sarcasm.

  He shushed her and smacked her lightly on the duff never once taking his eyes off Henrik.

  Reid controlled the hunt. He was their matchmaker. He knew Henrik would choose Songbird just as everyone did, but the broad grin lifting Reid’s shaven cheeks showed Robbie how much pride he took in his responsibilities.

  That look added another layer of guilt to Robbie’s conscience.

  Henrik bowed before the Jaguar King then tripped over his own feet in his haste to position himself before Songbird. After whispering in her ear, he waited for her prompt response, which came in the form of a quick nod. He managed to place a small gold band on her finger while the crowd roared and split into two separate bodies creating a path for their escape.

  “They will be happy.” Reid’s gaze followed the departing couple through the sea of natives and never once did his lofty smile falter.

  “Ye are by far the most selfless person I have ever known, Reid MacGregor.” Robbie leaned into him and kissed his neck the way he always kissed hers. Heat scalded her eyes, and she prayed he wouldn’t see the upset clawing at her heart, but he did.

  He raised her chin and narrowed dove-gray eyes on her.

  Fortunately, the drums resumed and Yellow Peacock saved Robbie from a conversation she wasn’t yet prepared to have by pulling Reid into a circle dance. The gaiety continued for hours—eating and drinking, laughing and dancing. Reid interacted with his family with the vitality of a man intoxicated on life.

  Robbie sat on an over-sized pillow beside the Jaguar King’s now empty throne. Wild Tigress and Eoin had snuck away hours before, which suited her fine as her thoughts were occupied with Reid this eve and the words she feared she wasn’t strong enough to deliver.

  At his approach, Robbie readjusted her skirts and pushed the hair from her face, but Gentle Fawn and Bow Hunter’s eldest daughter stopped him just a few feet short of the dais.

  Reid waited for her to speak, but the girl held her tongue. “Have you need for something, Nikkay?”

  She nodded, her dark eyes swept toward a group of laddies and then back. “When Wild Tigress no longer controls the dais, and B’alam seeks the second line to award the victor of the hunt, I will be ready.”

  Reid looked down at her with one brow slanted. “’Twill be a while yet. You are still just a wean. You’ve not even earned your name.”

  Nikkay scowled at him and popped her fists onto her slightly curved hips. “When my turn comes, I want Keeper of Smiles.” With her eyes, she gestured toward an adolescent boy thriving on the laughter of several youths. “You will save him for me, ma´?”

  “Be patient, lass.” Reid smoothed the girl’s long black hair and kissed her forehead. “I’ll do what I can.”

  Robbie knew why his answer was vague. He wouldn’t be here to make sure Keeper of Smiles rose up as victor of the hunt, nor would he be here to teach the children games. His intentions to leave Rukux and his Mopán fami
ly behind would be a decision he would come to regret in time.

  “I dare say you are not enjoying yourself.” He lounged out in front of her on his back and laid his head in her lap. “Mayhap ye need more chocolate.”

  She inhaled his sweet exotic smell and stroked his dark hair. “If I eat more, my eyes will turn brown,” she quipped and studied the beauty of his face.

  The fire reflected in his pale irises as he stared blindly at the sky above. “God, ’tis beautiful here. The stars sparkle like diamonds and the perfumed fragrance of the jungle is never far from one’s nose, but do you know what I’ll miss most?”

  Robbie shook her head and choked on the emotions rising in her throat.

  “Them. The Mopán are a loving, peaceful people who share their affections without expectations.”

  She drew a line around his perfect lips and bent over him when his arms circled her back and pulled her to his mouth. The instant their lips touched all the remorse she’d been holding inside surged to the forefront. Her eyes pinched tight, squeezing tears out of the corners, and the sob she’d been determined to stifle burst forth between his lips.

  “What is it, love?” He held the nape of her neck and looked up at her. The concern wrinkling his face made her next words all the more difficult to deliver.

  “I cannae ask ye to leave. I cannae take ye from these people.”

  “’Tis too late. You already have. I fear the guilt I’ve carried for more than a decade now sits on your shoulders.”

  21

  ~ DISCOVERY ~

  The diving barrel seemed much larger in his youth, and Reid was certain Loch Long had never been quite this dark.

  Suspended thirty-five feet below the water’s surface in the very pit of the Well of Sacrifice, Reid held tight to the crossbar over his head with one hand and supported Robbie around the waist with the other. “Is your mask secure?”

  Robbie’s hand slid between them to check the leather mask Reid had tarred around her nose. “Aye.” Her nasal answer echoed off the sides of the drum, then her cool, wet fingers checked the seams of his mask as well. “They are both airtight.”