The Red Drifter of the Sea: A Steamy Opposites Attract Pirate Romance (Pirates of the Isles Book 3)

by Celeste Barclay

  “Will you stay with me, sweet one?” Kyle asked, holding his breath.

  “Yes. Maybe tonight isn’t the night to decide whether I turn pirate or you retire, and maybe tonight isn’t the night to decide if we marry, but I will stay with you always.” Moira had never felt calmer with any decision she’d ever made. The serenity in her expression was genuine for the first time in years. “May I have my spanking now, Capt’n?”

  “Good God, yes,” Kyle growled before guiding her across the chamber. She forced away the questions about whether this was his regular chamber. She supposed it was since he’d demanded a key, but Daisy never said to which room. “Stop thinking about her, sweet one, or your spanking will be harsher.”

  “How did you know?” Moira asked with disbelief.

  “Because I know you. You admitted you were jealous, and you have a sharp mind. You want to know whether this is the chamber I always use. And you assume it is, since she didn’t tell me which room the key went to,” Kyle stated. “Over my knee.”

  Moira stretched across Kyle’s legs and waited as he pulled her skirts up to the middle of her back. She waited with building anticipation, but nothing happened.

  “Kyle?”

  “Hmm. Just enjoying the view, sweet one.” Kyle massaged her upturned globes, reveling in the feel of Moira’s silky skin beneath his rough palms. “You shall receive twenty spanks for risking your beautiful slim neck by bribing the magistrate. You shall receive another punishment for jumping into the sea and nearly killing yourself when I can think about that calmly and rationally. I am not there yet.”

  “Yes, Capt’n,” Moira stated. The first slap rang against the walls in the quiet chamber. There was no fire in the hearth, and the noise from the floor below hadn’t grown loud enough for them to hear. Moira counted each spanking, thanking Kyle in between. When he finished, he eased his fingers between her legs.

  “You’re wet for me, sweet one,” Kyle observed.

  “I have been since I saw you enter the magistrate’s,” Moira confessed. “Then you kissed me outside, and I confess, I wouldn’t have cared who saw us if you decided to couple with me.”

  “Do you wish for an audience, Moira? I’ve asked that before,” Kyle said as he worked his fingers in and out of her sheath before rubbing her pearl. Moira moaned, struggling to focus on what Kyle asked.

  “No. Not particularly. But if it’s the choice between you touching me or not, then I don’t care who sees,” Moira admitted with another moan. “Please, Kyle.”

  “Please what, sweet one?”

  “Please may I climax, Capt’n?” Moira begged.

  “Yes, sweet one.” Before Moira knew what was happening, Kyle flipped her around, so she was once more cradled against him. His fingers worked her. “I won’t be denied seeing you while you spend in my arms, Moira.”

  She clung to him as her back arched from his lap. She gasped as waves of pleasure rolled over her, making her shudder as their gazes locked. As her body calmed, Kyle held her against him, and she had no interest in moving. But as her senses returned to her, she knew what she wanted to do next. She slipped from Kyle’s lap and looked expectantly at his knees, but he didn’t move, didn’t allow her to kneel between his thighs to make restitution.

  “Not until we bathe, Moira. I’ve been in the gaol. It’s bad enough I’ve kissed you and touched you at all. But I couldn’t wait,” Kyle clarified.

  “I couldn’t wait either,” Moira said sheepishly, then grinned.

  “Cheeky,” Kyle muttered as he went to the door and called for a tub and hot water. He returned to Moira and pulled at the laces to her gown. “Where did you get this?”

  “At the dressmaker’s shop a few streets over. Tomas and Snake Eye are very convincing when they’re in a hurry,” Moira chortled.

  “I know Dónal found you. Did he not give you any clothes?” Kyle’s eye twitched as he watched Moira retreat. He knew she would tell him what happened, and she was trying to decide how best to do it, but it only fueled his temper. “Moira?”

  “I will tell you everything. But can we wait until the bath comes? I suspect that when I tell you what happened, I will have another spanking coming. I’d rather not be interrupted or have servants see my bare arse,” Moira said.

  “Very well. I see you have a chemise on. Slip off the gown, and I’ll send it to be cleaned,” Kyle said. Moira looked up at him, gauging his mood.

  “Yes, Capt’n.” Moira let the dress drop to the floor and stepped out of it.

  “Sweet one,” Kyle said as he wrapped his arm around Moira and cupped her cheek. “Whatever you tell me may earn you another trip over my knee or worse, but right now, I’m Kyle. We are on equal footing right now.”

  Moira nodded. She pecked his jaw since she couldn’t reach any higher, even on her toes, without Kyle leaning forward. “Thank you, mo grá.” At Kyle’s expectant face, Moira smiled softly. “It means my lover…Or my love.”

  “Mo ghaol,” Kyle translated into Scottish Gaelic. “My love.”

  The couple stood together, neither moving nor saying anything, just gazing at one another until a knock signaled their bath’s arrival. Moira hung back, out of the way, since she wore only a chemise and stockings. He grimaced when he opened the door and found Daisy on the other side. She reached out for him, but he grasped her wrist.

  “I understand. You wish to bathe first. Shall I scrub your back like I usually do? Maybe wash your lady’s flower. She wasn’t able to do much more than move her petals earlier,” Daisy asked, following Kyle when he stepped back to allow the team of servants to enter with the tub and buckets of steaming water.

  “And I told you I wasn’t interested, and Moira is not in a position to enjoy your ministrations,” Kyle snapped.

  “Testy? Has she not eased the ache, Kyle?”

  “What did you call me?” Kyle snarled and took a menacing step forward.

  “I—I—” Daisy stammered.

  “There is only one woman allowed to call me by my given name, and you are not her,” Kyle growled.

  “But she—” Daisy pointed toward Moira.

  “She’s the only one. Don’t test me, Daisy. You know I don’t like you when you’re not on your knees.” Kyle ignored both women’s gasps. He was being crude, and he realized his comment was hurtful to Moira, but it was true. He didn’t trust Daisy, nor did he like her. But when her mouth was occupied, she was tolerable.

  “Yes, Captain,” Daisy smiled weakly as she stepped back into the passageway. Kyle turned back to Moira, so he missed the hateful glare Daisy shot the couple. It made ice run through Moira’s veins.

  “She’s going to tell Dónal where we are,” Moira whispered.

  “What?” Kyle asked as he glanced back over his shoulder.

  “You spurned her and humiliated her. You didn’t see her face, but I did. She's going to find Dónal.”

  “Let us bathe and eat, then we’ll return to the Lady Charity. Would you like that?” Kyle offered.

  “Only the bath. We can eat aboard your ship,” Moira countered.

  “She makes you that uneasy?” Kyle asked.

  “Yes. Immensely.”

  “Then come, sweet one. We’ll bathe and be on our way,” Kyle agreed with a kiss to her cheek. He helped Moira into the tub and stepped in after her. Kyle’s enormous frame took up much of the tub, but Moira’s tiny one fit snugly against him. She leaned her head back as her eyes drifted closed. Kyle lathered a linen square and ran it over Moira’s arms and legs before washing her breasts and back. He took his time washing the folds between her thighs, making her squirm in the water. He watched her grip the edge of the tub as she tried not to moan. “Do you want your release, sweet one?”

  “I want to touch you first, Kyle. I haven’t, and I don’t want another release before you have one,” Moira said.

  “But that’s not what I wish,” Kyle purred beside her ear. “What if I wish to feel her quim squeeze my fingers just like it’s going to squeeze my cock?”<
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  “You know I’ll obey. But I wish to wash you and then be the one on my knees.”

  “Moira, you need not make amends to me,” Kyle corrected.

  “I want to. There’s still so much more for me to tell you,” Moira admitted.

  “Then you can make your restitution when we have cleared the air of everything. Let me wash your hair, and you can help me. Then I’m going to bury myself in you, Moira. I ache for you. I don’t know that I can last till we go to the Lady Charity,” Kyle said with a guilty grin, giving him a roguish charm. Moira caught her breath, overwhelmed at the ease with which Kyle smiled despite all that had happened. He was more handsome than she remembered. “I can smile because I’m with you.”

  Once more it felt as though Kyle read her mind. She nodded as she turned all the way around in the tub, now able to reach him. She ran the soap over his chest, foregoing the linen. She swirled soap over him with her bare hand, relishing the feel of him under her palm and fingers. As she washed him, he scrubbed her hair. They kissed as he poured clean water over her hair and she scrubbed his. Once his hair was free of suds, Moira stroked his length under the auspices of finishing where she’d left off. With a growl, Kyle lifted her light frame, drawing her closer before impaling her with his rod. Their sounds of pleasure and relief blended into a melody as they clung to one another.

  They moved together as water splashed against the sides of the tub, some spilling over onto the floor. Neither cared. Moira’s fingers bit into his back as she ground herself against his thrusting pelvis. It took little to send her over the edge as she rested her forehead on Kyle’s shoulder. His fingers gripped her hips as he guided her over and over again as he neared completion.

  “What happened to the basket?” Moira blurted.

  “What?” Kyle asked in confusion.

  “The basket. The pennyroyal. What happened to it?”

  “Braedon hid it once you went over the side,” Kyle explained.

  “So you still have it,” Moira gasped between words.

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t pull out,” Moira panted. Her words pushed Kyle to his release as they rocked together. They remained joined as Moira sank against Kyle’s chest. His brawny arms sheltering her from everything. They remained joined until Kyle feared Moira would grow too cold. He wasn’t certain that she’d recuperated from her ordeal only days ago. Fear that she would grow ill replaced the afterglow of their lovemaking.

  “I need to get you warm,” Kyle said. He helped Moira out of the bath and wrapped drying linens around her before he went to build a fire. When there was a cheery blaze, he called down for someone to remove the bath, and he summoned Tomas. With only a towel around his waist, he instructed Tomas to find Moira another gown. He was to either get one from a local shop or from the Lady Charity. He explained where he’d stored Moira’s sack in his cabin. Tomas suggested a fresh change of clothes for Kyle with a grin. With a mocking scowl, Kyle pushed his first mate toward the stairs.

  “Kyle, that’s going to take too long,” Moira worried. “I don’t regret taking the bath with you, but we overly lingered. Dónal is likely on his way right now.”

  “You may be right, Moira. But most of the men from both ships are here now,” Kyle assured her.

  “Kyle, I saw five MacDonnell ships in the harbor. Dónal has brought every man he could. There’s likely MacAlisters along too. We just found one another, I’m scared they’ll force us apart,” Moira said with a trembling lip.

  “Wheest,” Kyle murmured as he lifted her into his lap as they sat before the fire. “Dinna fash, sweet one.”

  Moira closed her eyes and relaxed against him. “Why don’t you sound like an islander very often? Is it because you left as a child?”

  “Most likely that’s part of it. But Keith and I rarely use our clan name. In the beginning, we didn’t want anyone to know who we were or where we hailed from. Eventually, it stopped mattering, but we’d learned a new way to talk. It slips out from time to time.”

  “I know. I like it,” Moira said around a yawn. “It’s comforting.” Exhaustion washed over Moira, reminding her that she’d yet to recover from her prolonged ordeal before finding Kyle.

  “Do you wish to sleep, Moira?”

  “I do, but not here. I want to go home,” she said around another yawn. The word “home” made Kyle’s chest feel pinched.

  “Home?” Kyle repeated.

  “Yes. To the Lady Charity. Home,” Moira explained.

  “Not Dunluce?” Kyle checked.

  “That is not home,” Moira said emphatically. “Unless we have that cottage you mentioned, the Lady Charity is home. I wish to sleep in your bunk.”

  “Our bunk, sweet one,” Kyle corrected.

  Moira looked up at him and smiled sleepily. “Ours.”

  Unprepared for another knock on the door so soon, Kyle whispered, “Give me your knife. Tomas shouldn’t be back yet.”

  Moira nodded and padded over to where she’d hidden the knife under a pillow while the servants brought the bath and collected her soiled gown. Handing it to Kyle in silence, he signaled for her to hide behind the door. With his finger to his lips, he reached out for the handle.

  “Who is it?” Kyle demanded.

  “Tomas.”

  Kyle eased the door open, his brow furrowed. To his surprise, his first mate stood before him with fresh clothes. Tomas grinned at Kyle, but it fell when he looked into the chamber past Kyle’s shoulder and didn’t see Moira. Turning a worried gaze to Kyle, the first mate relaxed when Kyle tilted his head toward the door.

  “You and the men can remain here with Keith and his men. I’m taking Moira back to the Lady Charity tonight,” Kyle explained. “We don’t want to be here when Dónal gets wind of where Moira is.”

  “Wise.” Tomas nodded, then grinned again as Kyle looked down at the clothes. “There’s a haberdasher a few doors down who doesn’t lock up.”

  Moira pulled her lips in between her teeth to keep from smiling. She knew it was wrong to accept the stolen clothes, but she couldn’t keep from grinning when she imagined Tomas looking at the women’s clothing and trying to figure out what to nab for her. As though he knew her thoughts, he added, “I tried to find something the right size for Lady Moira, but I didn’t know what that was. I brought a cloak too.”

  “Thank you,” Moira called out from behind the door and shrugged when Kyle leaned back to frown at her. “My mother taught me manners.”

  “I shall teach you something,” Kyle warned.

  “Promise?” Moira mouthed playfully. She saw the heat flare in Kyle’s eyes, and she knew her need matched his. “We should dress now,” she said pointedly.

  Thirty-One

  Kyle shut the door as Tomas moved toward the stairs. In tacit agreement, they dressed themselves, lest they give into temptation and delay their departure. But Moira had no choice but to ask for help since the gown laced in the back. When they were dressed, Kyle swished the cape around Moira’s shoulders and pulled up the cowl. He dropped a butterfly-soft kiss on the tip of her nose as he fastened the frog. He pulled her hood up over her wet hair before leading her to the door. The same maid who took Moira’s dirty clothes had taken his. There was little left behind but the towels and tub to show they’d been there. They made their way belowstairs, and Moira looked around for Daisy. She was in a customer’s lap, but her gaze followed the couple.

  “She’s already sent word to him,” Moira warned.

  Kyle looked down at her, and she prayed he wouldn’t look at Daisy. Taking her word for it, he kept his eyes on Moira as they stepped off the last step. Tomas met them there with Kyle’s weapons in hand. When Kyle stepped forward, Keith rose from his chair and tapped the woman’s backside that had been resting in his lap. He handed the woman a coin and shook his head. With both captains moving toward the door, the men from both ships scowled as they turned away the women they’d thought to bed and left behind the ale they’d been sipping.

  Moira stole a
nother glance at Daisy, who didn’t bother to hide how livid she was. She not only couldn’t have Kyle, but obviously Keith hadn’t chosen her either. Now nearly every man in the tavern was about to leave. Daisy’s eyes shot daggers at Moira, who only shrugged as Kyle wrapped his arm around Moira and blocked her from Daisy’s sight. Kyle led Moira out of The Mother Hen and onto the street, steering them toward the harbor. They made it three blocks before a swarm of men stepped out and blocked their way. Dónal stepped forward and smirked.

  “Found my wayward little sister, have you? Had a good hump at the Hen?” Dónal chuckled at his own humor. “You’ve had your fun; now she comes with me.”

  Moira instinctively stepped behind Kyle, whose hand rested on the hilt of his sword. He wouldn’t be the first to draw, but he would fight until the last MacDonnell lay dying. Moira peeked around his shoulder, looking for the council men who promised their protection. They stood behind Dónal, looking very ready to fight Kyle and the other pirates.

  “If I tell you to run, do it. Don’t look back for me. Go to the end of the docks and hide there. Don’t come out unless it’s me, Tomas, Snake Eye, or my brother,” Kyle commanded.

  “Yes, Kyle,” Moira mumbled.

  “I’ve already chased the wench along the coast and through this town. I’m done chasing,” Dónal growled.

  “Then go home,” Kyle said with a shrug.

  “Not without my sister. And she’s going to the O’Malley.”

  “No point,” Kyle said casually. Moira recalled what Kyle said earlier. He’d already told her that he’d killed Dermot, but obviously Dónal didn’t know that.

  “The contracts are signed. He’s getting a hefty dowry. He doesn’t care that she’s soiled. Any babe of yours that she carries he’ll do you the favor of drowning,” Dónal said.