Beauty and the Barbarian

by Amy Jarecki

  “Aye.” Rewan licked his lips and un-stoppered the vessel. “Ian MacLeod was Lady Janet’s accomplice.”

  “Calum’s son?” Roderick met him at the sideboard and nodded to a second cup. “What business had he with Ruairi’s young wife?”

  Rewan filled the two silver cups and handed one to the chieftain. “We thought he aimed to pursue Janet’s divorce and marry her, until he left the woman with her kin. Presently, he’s on the run—but no’ without pain. Me musket managed to lodge a bit of lead in his back.”

  “So is that why Ye’re here? Ye’re looking for Ian?”

  He swirled the whisky in his cup and took a sip. Rewan nearly moaned at the smooth taste of it. Oh, how he missed home and his nightly tots, almost more than his nightly tups. “Aye. He’s on the run with an old healer and his daughter.”

  Roderick tossed his drink back. “He’s no’ been here.”

  “We caught up with him at Fairy Glen, but they laid a trap for us. I do no’ understand it—me men were just scratched by brambles, but a pair were so sick, they couldn’t march for two days.”

  Roderick ambled to the table. “Ye said Ian took up with a healer?”

  “Aye, and his daughter.”

  “And what kind of wizardry does this healer possess?”

  “M’laird?”

  Roderick narrowed his eyes. “Anyone who enters Fairy Glen and uses magic must be a wizard of the worst sort.”

  Rewan clenched his fingers around his cup. He never believed in such hogwash. But he had no explanation for what happened. A grove of brambles most certainly shouldn’t have caused sickness. “It could have been poison of some sort.” He drained his drink and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “I need some horses, and a few men. I’ve only five warriors to man the galley. I’d like to chase them overland as well as by sea.”

  Roderick sat in his wide upholstered chair. “A few horses I can spare, but I do no’ care to have me men chasing after a man who’s sold his soul to the King of the Fairies.”

  “They did no’ stay in Fairy Glen for long. Mayhap he used up his welcome.” Rewan placed his palms on the table and leaned across. “I need a few fighting men to avenge Ruairi’s name. Surely ye can sympathize with me chieftain’s broken heart.”

  Roderick laughed. “Word has it Ruairi is already divorced. I received an invite to his wedding only yesterday. The old codger’s heart heals quickly.”

  “Mayhap, but I’ve been tasked with bringing Ian MacLeod to justice.” Rewan folded his arms. “Will ye help me or nay?”

  Roderick flicked his hand. “Very well. Take the horses and three volunteers. I’d like to help more, but ’tis all I can spare.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ian used a clump of dried grass to apply yet another coat of pitch to the boat. It had been three days and Niall insisted on yet one more application of this hideous, sticky goo. They needed to be on their way. If they stayed longer, they’d be found by a local crofter, or worse, spotted by Rewan himself.

  Ian had no doubt Ruairi’s henchman would come after him with vengeance. The man didn’t take kindly to any sort of deception. The fact Rewan’s galley had not yet sailed down the sound worried Ian more. That meant he’d most likely gone for reinforcements. The bastard might just sail down the sound with an armada of sea galleys.

  Niall dunked his makeshift brush into the pitch. “What’s your plan once we have this heap of rotten wood seaworthy?”

  Ian rocked back on his haunches. “I’m still planning to ask for support at Eilean Donan Castle.”

  “Ye reckon they’ll give it?”

  “Mayhap no’ at first. They’ll probably want to send word to the chieftain—Janet’s da.” Ian filled in yet another gap. “But they’ll take us in, at least until he replies. Being the son of a laird has some advantages.”

  “And what if the chieftain decides Ye’re no’ worth his effort?”

  “I’ll ask the MacRae to give ye and Merrin shelter until I can convince me brother to help us.”

  Niall looked up and frowned. “Ye cannot take Merrin to Raasay. Too many fear her there. Even after all these years, I watch me back whenever I visit.”

  “I ken.”

  “Do ye?” Niall grasped Ian’s arm. “They’d burn her.”

  “But near twenty year’ has passed since—”

  Niall jabbed his finger into Ian’s chest. “Aye, but do no’ underestimate the power of fear. Some think her a witch.” He shoved his thumb at his own sternum. “But I ken she’s no’ bad. I’ve done everything I can to keep fae folk at bay, but do no’ misunderstand. Merrin is charmed—she’s too bonny no’ to be.”

  With a sharp nod, Ian stood. He didn’t like seeing superstition in another man, though he knew it existed. He solved his problems with his sword, faced them head on. A good sparring in the courtyard might yield a few cuts, but it resolved a great many differences. He walked around the hull and examined their handiwork.

  Merrin was one person he could not challenge to a sparring match. She’d been such a quandary over the past two days. She’d hardly looked his way. Women could be so damned difficult to figure out. He shouldn’t let her sudden coolness needle him. After all, he’d kicked himself enough times for kissing and now ogling the lass. But her silence had nearly sent him over the edge. He needed to find out what had her upset. He much preferred to have the happy, bubbly Merrin back, even if he couldn’t resist her.

  “I dunna ken what I’d do without her.” Niall’s voice cut through Ian’s thoughts. “She’s a good lass.”

  “Merrin?”

  “Who else?”

  It seemed they both were thinking of the blue-eyed vixen. “Aye, she’s the best sort.”

  Niall cast his brush into the fire pit. “I would like to see her cared for. Ye ken I will no’ be around forever.”

  Ian eyed him. If only his future were clear, he’d tell the man he would be there to protect his daughter. “I cannot make any promises—no’ until this business with Ruairi is settled.”

  Niall picked up the container of pitch, his shoulders sagging a bit. “Aye.”

  Ian combed his fingers through his hair. He owed Niall and Merrin his life, damn it all. “If I live, ye have me word I’ll see to her comfort.”

  “Thank ye.” Niall rested the pot against the shack and gave him a wink. “I didn’t leave her alone with ye back at the cottage for naught.”

  Ian looked to the skies and chuckled. The old man certainly had some unorthodox ways about him.

  “Besides, ye were too weak to do much damage.”

  Ian stepped back. “Have ye forgotten what it’s like to be a young buck?”

  Niall’s eyebrows shot up and down. “Never. But your protection for Merrin is all I can ask.” He thwacked Ian on the shoulder. “It puts me mind at ease.”

  Ian glanced around the clearing. “Where is Merrin? She and Gar should be back by now.” She’d set out to check her traps some time ago.

  Niall turned full circle. “Blast the wandering lass.”

  “Do no’ worry, she’s probably found a meadow of daisies. I’ll go fetch her.”

  ***

  Ian wasn’t far from wrong. He found Merrin asleep beneath a hazelnut tree, Gar curled up at her feet. Ian plucked a buttercup and sat on the mossy ground beside her. The deerhound pricked an ear, half opened one eye and drifted back into slumber.

  Merrin lay on her back with her head turned to the side, facing Ian. In the shade, her skin looked as soft as spun silk, her lips pink, pursed together in a perfect bow. One errant lock of hair draped across her nose, and it puffed slightly with each breath.

  Ian’s chest swelled. He could sit there all day and watch her sleep. He brushed her cheek with the buttercup. She stirred. Her hand lightly swept the flower away.

  “Beautiful Bana,” he whispered.

  With a sigh, Merrin rolled to her side. Ian loved how her tiny waist curved up to a perfectly rounded hip. He put the flower in his teeth and ran his finger
from her shoulder to the top of that curve.

  “Are ye teasing me, now?”

  He glanced down, grasping the flower’s stem between his fingers. “I wouldn’t tease the likes of you.”

  Her blueberry eyes watched him, half cast and half awake. She shuttered those lovely blues and drew her arms against her torso.

  “Merrin?”

  “Aye.” Her voice was exquisitely dreamy.

  “Ye’ve been quiet these past few days.”

  “Mm hmm.”

  “Are ye upset with me?”

  She rose up on her elbow, eyes suddenly wide. “Now what makes ye ask that?”

  Ian dipped his chin, a bit disappointed he’d roused her so. “Ye’ve hardly said a word to me.”

  She looked sideways. “So what of it?”

  Ian twirled the buttercup between his fingers. “I thought a…a fondness had grown between us.”

  She pulled herself to a sitting position and faced him. “A fondness? And where will your affection be when ye return to her?”

  Ian knit his brow, and then it dawned on him. Janet. What would he do if he saw her again? They’d said their goodbyes, agreed that she needed to start a new life with her kin. He glanced at Merrin, who stared at him expectantly. Beautiful, innocent Merrin. His heart squeezed. If only he could tell her how he felt. “I doubt I ever will.” He brushed her lips with the buttercup. “I’ve missed kissing you.”

  He caught her subtle gasp. “Ian, ye shouldn’t say that.”

  He reached out and pulled her onto his lap, ignoring the dull stab in his back. “Mayhap Ye’re right, but ’tis how I feel.”

  Her eyes dipped to his lips and the color in her cheeks blossomed. He needed no more encouragement. Merrin’s soft buttocks pressed against his manhood. His hips grew a mind of their own and ground against her. Deliberately, he dipped his head. He closed his eyes and savored her, letting his tongue express the feelings longed to utter.

  Merrin turned to sweet cream butter in his arms. She placed her hands on his cheeks and returned his kiss. The first hungry lick of her tongue took his breath away. The honeyed taste of her mouth, so silken and warm, made Ian want more—all of her. Merrin’s bottom gently rocked against his groin, sending him into euphoric agony. Ian’s excitement coursed across his skin as if a million butterflies swarmed around them.

  His hand slipped up her bodice until his fingers wrapped around the ties of her kirtle. In one tug he loosened the bow and made quick work of freeing her laces. She eased her kiss. Ian ran his free hand up to her neck, preventing her from pulling away. He increased the depth of his kiss, demanding that she return it in kind.

  He grasped the lace bow at the top of her shift and released it. Pressing his fingers through the top of her stays, at last he found a full, lusciously ripe breast. Just as he’d imagined at the stream, it filled his hand. Her nipple jutted against his palm. He had to taste her.

  Merrin shifted in his lap, his cock rigid, aching beneath her alluring bottom. He trailed kisses along her neck until his lips arrived at her heaving cleavage. God, she defined perfection. He gently pulled her nipple above her stays and suckled.

  The long, slow moan that vibrated from her throat attacked Ian’s loins with vicious need. He tilted his hips into her buttocks. She rocked languidly against him. Only a few layers of cloth separated them from joining. If only Niall weren’t on the other side of the grove, Ian could take his time.

  He caressed the erect tip of her nipple with his tongue. “I want to see ye bare.” And this time he wanted her to know he was looking.

  Merrin chuckled, a low female rumble that turned his balls to fire. “Ye are a naughty Highlander, are ye not?”

  “One that cannot resist you.” He covered her mouth and trailed his hand down to her hem. Though he was usually confident when it came to women, Ian’s fingers trembled. His cock pulsed with an aching surge when his hand slid over her boot and found exposed skin, soft, pliable under his fingers. He continued up, his breath growing heavy.

  Merrin tensed. “Ian, ye mustn’t.”

  He opened his eyes. “Let me touch ye. Please. I can show ye pleasure.”

  The higher his hand went, the warmer her skin grew. He slid his hand between her thighs. Her skirts billowed with his movement, blessing him with ambrosial fragrance. He nearly spilled his seed with Merrin moving against him. He groaned, picturing himself sliding into her.

  Merrin buried her face in his shoulder. “Ian.” Her voice strained.

  “Does it feel good?”

  “Aye, too much so.”

  His fingers found a delightfully soft tuft of curls. He inched through the parting of her treasure. “Ah, mo Bana, tenderness between a man and a woman can never be too good. There is no finer joy.”

  Her breath caught with a sharp gasp.

  Hot moisture met his finger. “Relax.” He splayed his hand and encouraged her thighs to part. “That’s it, love. Let me touch you.”

  “Ian?”

  “’Tis all right.” He caressed her tiny button with languid swirls. Her quick gasps sent a surge of throbbing heat to the tip of his cock. Expertly, he teased her to the brink of ecstasy before sliding his finger lower.

  Merrin’s breath came in short bursts. “I dunna ken…how much more I can stand.”

  He growled against her ear. “Close your eyes, mo Bana. I promise I’ll not hurt ye.”

  He slipped his finger inside her warm center. Tight walls gripped him—she was so small. God, he could scarcely restrain himself from climbing over her. With a grunt of pleasure, Ian licked his lips and watched her. She was close to coming undone. He circled his finger. Merrin’s hips ground against his throbbing cock. Tiny cries erupted from the back of her throat. He fingered her faster, applying the lightest friction to the spot that would send her mad.

  Merrin’s eyes flew open. A cry caught in her throat. Her body held tense, and then she roared. Not only did her womanhood erupt in sweet spasms, her whole body found release. Completely spent, she gasped for air, resting her head against Ian’s chest. A spurt of seed spilled in his kilt. Right now he could lay her down in the moss and slide inside her, claim her for himself. But he mustn’t. This was her time—Merrin’s overdue chance to discover what it meant to be a woman.

  He held her close and kissed her forehead. “Ye reached your release.”

  “I’ve never felt like that before. Was it magic?”

  “Nay, lass—’tis far too good to be sorcery of any sort.”

  She shifted in his lap and slid her arms around his neck. “But ’tis not all. What of your pleasure?”

  Ian clenched his bum cheeks against his own longings. “Mine comes from pleasing you.”

  “I do no’ believe that. I’ve seen animals…ah…ye ken.”

  God, she wanted him to make love to her, and he was so ready to do it. Ian glanced through the woods toward the shack. “I want nothing more, but your da’s most likely worried for our whereabouts.”

  Her face fell.

  Ian cradled her chin and kissed her fully. If he couldn’t tell her how much he cared for her, he’d show it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Merrin grasped Ian’s hand tightly as he led her back to the shack. She never wanted to let it go. Her heart swelled with joy. The world around them floated, as if they were the only two people on the Isle of Skye, or anywhere for that matter. A thousand questions swarmed through her mind, but she wouldn’t ask a one—she couldn’t spoil the moment, it was too perfect.

  Ian’s fingers threaded through hers and he walked beside her, just as if they were always meant to be together. This must be what it’s like to have a husband—to have someone to share your life with.

  Merrin wished with all her heart their bond would last. She’d been dreaming about him when he sat beside her. The sensation of the flower touching her face woke her only slightly. That gesture alone was enough to tear down her defenses. She’d tried so hard to push Ian away, kept herself busy with gathering and
preparing food, refused to look him in the eye. But she couldn’t explain her heightened awareness or the tingles rushing through her limbs when he appeared beside her.

  She’d nearly squealed when he pulled her into his lap—considered pushing away, but it felt too good. Their kisses had gone from the light, tempting caresses back on Fladda to deep, searching passion—but this time the urgency made her heart race. In his arms, Merrin was bewitched, alive with desire. And then he slipped his hand beneath her skirts. The memory of it made heat spread across her cheeks. She’d experienced many new sensations since Ian’s arrival, but his deft fingers under her skirts took her to an unimaginable, heart-stopping height of passion. Wantonly grinding her buttocks against his thick column, the only thing she could focus on was his body—the time she’d bathed him and saw him erect and exposed.

  What would it be like to mate with him, to feel his manhood where he’d put his fingers? Heat flushed across her skin. Would she be able to withstand it? Would he take her to such heights her heart would stop?

  Certain the warmth crawling across her skin made her blush from head to toe, Merrin released Ian’s hand. She’d be mortified if Niall guessed what they’d been up to.

  The shack came into sight, but nothing stirred. “Where’s Da?”

  Ian stopped and held his finger to his lips. Eyes darting, he crept forward. Drawing his dirk, he inclined his ear, but not a sound came from the surrounding wood.

  Niall had to be nearby. She tiptoed to the tree line edge and exhaled. “There he is, on the beach.”

  Ian stepped beside her and sheathed his dirk. “It looks like we’ll have clams for supper.”

  “Again?”

  Ian didn’t respond. His face took on a deadly edge, his jaw tense. Merrin followed his gaze. From the north, a galley skimmed the sea. Merrin froze. It flew the Lewis pennant. “Rewan?”

  “Aye.” His gaze darted to her face, then to the beach. “I kent we stayed too long.”

  Merrin gasped. They’d see Niall for certain. “What can we do?”

  “Pray.”

  If Niall saw the galley, he didn’t let on. He dropped to his knees and dug deep into the stony beach.