by Cali MacKay
Though she didn’t return his kiss, she did finally look at him, if only to pin him with an icy glare.
“What would ye have me do, lass? Ye canna come, and I must go.” His thumb brushed across her cheek, his eyes on hers, threatening to melt away her anger.
“You can either cut me down and tell me you’ll not go, or you can take me with you. Those are your options.”
The corners of his mouth curled in a sly smile. “It wouldna seem like ye’re in much of a position to be handing out ultimatums, my love.”
She knew it was the truth of the matter, yet she did not care. “I swear, Ronan, I’ll not speak to you again.” Angry as she was, the thought had her tears spilling over despite her best attempt to keep them at bay.
“Och, love. Dinna cry.” Seeing she was truly upset, his smile disappeared as he reached up and unhooked the rope, before undoing her wrists. “Molly… there’s naught to be done for it. I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” With one final look and a shake of her head, she walked out the room and out the door, into the night.
***
Molly easily got lost in the crowded streets, her hurt and anger mingling to make her absolutely miserable. Heartbroken, it felt as if she weren’t truly anchored to her body, her face numb and her head spinning. She got bumped and jostled by the growing evening crowds as she wandered aimlessly, her thoughts refusing to settle on anything but Ronan’s departure.
Though she wanted nothing more than for Ronan to come after her and comfort her in his arms, she knew it wouldn’t resolve anything. Not that her solution would yield better results.
She wandered into the alehouse on the far end of town, hoping to find a small measure of distraction and oblivion. It wasn’t the pub she normally frequented, but that suited her just fine, since there was a good chance Ronan would eventually go looking for her and knew all her normal haunts. It was a rougher crowd than she was used to, but in the mood she was in, she didn’t care.
Heading straight for the bar, she could feel the men’s eyes shift in her direction, watching her progress through the room. Ignoring them, she slid a coin across the marred wood surface to the publican and then climbed onto a stool. “Whisky.” He poured her a glass, and nearly as quick, she emptied it, the liquid like molten gold burning its way down her throat. Another coin was sent across. “I’ll take the bottle.”
The publican’s eyebrows perked in question, but he gave her the bottle and watched as she poured herself another. “’Tis your coin, aye? But do you think it a wise idea?”
She threw back her drink, giving her head a shake as the drink set her insides on fire. “What do you care?”
“Listen, lass, you’re far too pretty to end up piss drunk and alone in a place like this. It’s dangerous for you to be here on your own. They’re a bunch of pirates and criminals.” He was right about the men assembled, and likely the reason she didn’t frequent this pub in Ronan’s absence.
She looked at the publican as if for the first time. He was a handsome man and well-muscled, with honey-streaked brown hair, kind amber eyes the color of rum and a smile that would make a lass weak in the knees. Still young, she’d guess him to be in his mid-twenties, and about her age, unlike Ronan who was three and thirty, far more a man than a boy.
Swallowing her misery, she managed a smile, thinking she may have found a way to help forget her sorrows. “They may be criminals and pirates, but I have you to protect me. What’s your name, pet?”
“William.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips, her heart picking up an extra beat when he touched her, his hands just a little rough from work, though he was nothing but gentle. “And it’d be my honor to keep you safe. What’s your name, darling?”
“It’s Molly. Will you drink with me?” She found herself taking an immediate liking to him, for there was something sweet about him, a kindness in his eyes that gave her the impression that the man before her would hold nothing back when he fell in love, giving them his all, heart and soul.
William put another glass on the bar and she filled them both, happy for his company, a small glimmer of light on a dark and hopeless night. When he smiled at her, she was happy to see his eyes light up from within. “Molly, eh? As for drinking with you, I don’t think I’d have it in me to refuse you anything, lass.”
Molly drained her glass, and then reached across the bar and pulled William in close, nuzzling him before brushing her lips against his. Their kiss deepened, her lips hard on his as his mouth parted and their tongues explored, the taste of whisky still strong, burning the back of her throat. He tangled his hands in her hair and pulled her closer, stealing her breath, kissing her until everything around them faded to grey.
How she managed to put some distance between them, she knew not, for he’d had a far greater effect on her than she’d anticipated. And yet, despite her flirtations with William, she still could not keep Ronan from invading her thoughts, her heart only aching all the more for him. Her body might react to William’s touch, and he seemed incredibly nice, but she was still Ronan’s, heart and soul.
William pursed his lips in a frown, his brow drawn close as he took her in. “Are you all right, Molly?”
“Aye. I’m fine, love.” Yet she wasn’t. Not when she couldn’t forget Ronan or that he’d be leaving her in mere days. She poured them another drink, hoping it would dull her senses and kill her heartache.
Tears threatened once more, making her eyes sting. She threw back her drink, ignoring the molten heat as it trailed over the lump in her throat to her belly, and then spun in her stool to look out at the crowd, lest William notice just how upset she was. Seeking further distraction, she scanned the room and found a game of cards going. Perfect.
Forcing a smile on her face, she glanced over her shoulder at William. “I trust you’ll not be going anywhere?” Then before he could answer her, she twined her hand in his shirt and pulled him close for another kiss as he cupped her face, kissing her until he left her breathless, her heartbeat tripping over itself. His lips lingered on hers a moment more, and she couldn’t help but nuzzle him before pulling away and wandering over to join the game.
She waited for the hand being played to end and then pulled up a seat, ignoring the raised eyebrows of the men sitting at the table. “Deal me in, if you would.”
“You sure?” The man across from her gathered the cards, though his grey eyes were on her, a curious smile on his weathered and scarred face.
“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Deal the cards, love.” She leaned forward, elbows on the table, holding his gaze without a problem. “Or do I have you worried?” Given the mood she was in, she didn’t really care if she won or lost her hand—though luck tended to favor her.
“Nae, darling. Not worried one bit, and I’d rather look at your pretty face than these ugly mugs.” He tilted his head to the other men at the table.
In the end, her head was not in the game, her thoughts running back to Ronan. To what would happen between them. She played and drank, losing some, winning most, her head starting to spin.
And then she felt a hand on her shoulder.
She closed her eyes and her breath deepened as she resisted the urge to lean up against his arm. She need not look to see who it was, for she would always know his touch.
Ronan said nothing; just left his hand there, the weight of it like an anchor from him to her heart. And with that simple touch, it was as if they were the only two people in the entire tavern, the others not mattering one bit. Her anger dissolved away, and when he moved his hand from her shoulder to brush her cheek, her tears spilled over.
“Come, love.” When he spoke, his tone was tender.
He held out his hand to her and she took it without hesitation, letting him pull her to her feet, the game and her winnings already forgotten. His touch, the nearness of him, soothed her aching heart, for she did not truly feel whole when they were apart. Every fiber of her being ached when he was not near.
He led her through the crowded pub when William came from around the bar and stood before them, a small club in his hand, looking at the two of them.
She realized then that William—sweet and honorable William—must have seen her crying and thought her in trouble, not fully understanding the situation. With her heart racing, she swiped at her tears and shook her head no, hoping to diffuse things before they took a turn for the worse. But already, it was too late.
William’s voice was a low growl, his eyes focused on Ronan. “Let her go.”
*End of Sample. The Pirate and the Feisty Maid, Part Two—Her New Lover is now available for purchase.*
Table of Contents
Part One—At His Hand
Part One—At His Hand
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Part Two- Her New Lover
Part Two- Her New Lover
