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What the Earl Desires

Page 31

by Burke, Aliyah

“The boy,” Father agreed.

  Colin looked at her and she wanted to hold him. Scream for him to run. Her heart didn’t know which to stay with. Loyalty to Father or love for Colin and Pug.

  The clan spread out into a large circle with Colin and the four warriors in the middle. Najja felt sick. What have I done? Colin moved to her side and bent down to whisper something in Pug’s ear.

  When he faced her, he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she couldn’t help but stare at his powerful chest.

  “Hold this for me, luv,” he whispered.

  “Colin?” There were so many things she wanted to say to him.

  His eyes were full of love and understanding as they held hers for several charged moments. “I know,” he said finally. One strong hand cupped the side of her face and his thumb stroked her lower lip. He blinked once, his thick lashes moving slowly to hide and expose his eyes. “I know.”

  “Come English. Come meet your death.”

  When he faced them, she watched Father’s eyes move to Colin’s chest where the necklace lay.

  “He wears your first trophy?” Father said, his voice a bit rattled.

  “He saved me, Father, and he earned it.”

  “Perhaps, but now he will die.” Father waved to the men.

  Colin! Every instinct she had told her to fight at his side.

  She turned Pug into her. “Do not watch this.”

  He held tight but obeyed. She on the other hand, couldn’t look away. All four men had weapons and Colin didn’t. If he was concerned by that fact it never showed. He feinted and dodged before striking out with a flurry of moves that left her amazed, Colin armed, and the first warrior dead.

  Colin fought dirty, striking quick and often, drawing blood. Still it wasn’t a fair fight and these men fought daily whereas Colin ran an estate. She glanced to Father and spied Colin’s sword in his lap.

  “Give him his sword,” she demanded.

  “Worried, Daughter?”

  Words she’d never admit. “He is already fighting your best warriors and has killed one. Are you?”

  With a narrowed gaze that promised retribution, he snarled at her but tossed the sword in. Rolling to avoid a blow, Colin saw it and made his way to it. He held it in one hand and the knife in the other. She would’ve sworn there was arrogance in his expression.

  The other warriors were good, very good. Colin was just better. She watched him move with a lethal grace and she could imagine him on his ship battling for England. Even as a pirate. The sun glinted off his earring making him even more dashing.

  Cut and bleeding he stood still with his sword point at the final man’s throat. “I beat them all. Let us leave and I will leave you one warrior alive.” His chest rose and fell with each breath, his golden skin gleamed with sweat but his hand and voice never wavered.

  “Take your boy and go,” Father growled. “If you ever return you will be killed.” A gesture brought the horses close.

  “Najja comes with me, also.”

  A chuckle that didn’t reassure her. “You have to kill my best for that.”

  The blade at the man’s throat pierced the skin, blood welled around it and the man’s eyes grew wide. “Thought these were your best.”

  Najja put Pug on a horse and smoothed a hand down his cheek. “Goodbye, Pug.”

  His eyes were sad. “But we came to bring you ’ome.”

  She touched her heart. “A greater gift I could never receive.”

  “Get on the horse, Najja,” Colin ordered. Father rose and made his way to Colin. She headed an intercept, Pug’s horse beside her. “I told you to get on the horse, Najja.”

  She ignored him and focused on the angry expression Father had. “I will not fight him, Father.”

  “You will fight whomever I say!”

  “Not him.”

  “You defy me again?” He roared his question.

  “Let them leave.”

  “I will not leave without you, Najja.” Colin’s voice was hard and absolute.

  “Think of Pug.” She tried to reason with him.

  “We want you home. You belong with us.” Pug’s agreement came seconds after Colin’s statement.

  Father hollered out a command that had her dragging Pug back off the horse and placing him between her and Colin.

  “Leave, Colin. Please, I do not want your blood on my hands.”

  “What if you are carrying my baby? I am not letting you raise him across the world from me.”

  Last night flashed through her mind and she wondered. The other times they slept together she’d taken an herb to combat pregnancy. Her fingers tightened on her weapons and she ran her tongue along her lips. Him? What if she did carry his child? A boy? A girl?

  “I told you, Najja. I cannot, will not, let you go.” He glanced to Father. “I am not willing to risk her being injured.” Colin readjusted and forced the man to his knees and held the sword to his throat. “We all go.”

  Father shook his head. “Najja is mine.”

  “No!” Colin snapped. “She is part of our family. My woman. His mother. She is mine.”

  Colin’s voice was low and drenched in fury and something that reminded her of a leopard in his prime defending what was his. And that was her. His woman, Pug’s mother. She finally knew where she belonged.

  “We are leaving, all of us. Any attempt to get her back and you will find that person in parts.”

  “You will never make it.” Father was smug.

  “I will; I have no intention of losing Najja now.”

  “You are outnumbered.”

  Colin’s laugh surprised her. It wasn’t expected nor was it humorous. “You are under the impression I came alone.” He released a piercing whistle.

  The response was immediate, gunshots rang out and it seemed like in the time it took her to blink, the village people surrounding them had been circled by men. Battle-scarred men. Each of them held guns in each hands or had swords to archer’s throats.

  She couldn’t help but be impressed. Toward the front were men she recognized. Including Trystan, although his face looked a bit beat up.

  One came through and took his prisoner from him. Colin immediately sheathed his sword and strode before Father.

  “Any resistance and my men will start killing. I see you again or you send someone after her and I will kill every last person here. Including you, regardless of the fact you are her father. She is yours to order around no more. And this is for daring to strike her.” Colin hit Father in the jaw and sent him sprawling to the ground.

  “Kill him!” Father issued the order in their language.

  Colin turned and faced her. His bare chest and tight breeches emphasizing the powerful man he was. The bloody cuts didn’t seem to bother him. His eyes were clear of pain as he held her gaze.

  She took a step only to stop when Pug slid his hand into hers. His lopsided smile broke her heart. But she now had the courage to do what she had never had before.

  “Goodbye, Father,” she said in her language. “I cannot, will not, kill for you anymore. I love him.”

  Fury mottled his face and he sat forward only to pause when the guns zeroed in on him. Najja approached him, striding forward only to stop at Colin’s side.

  “You live because I allow it,” Father growled.

  “That was true, Father. Until Colin. He taught me how to live. How to love. I chose him.” She licked her lips and continued, “If anything happens to these men, I will come for you.”

  She’d never threatened him before and Najja saw it get to him.

  “Go you ungrateful child,” he said, voice taut with anger.

  Colin touched her on the small of her back and glanced at him. “Come, Najja.” He used his thumb to wipe the blood from her face before gesturing her to go.

  The men with Colin closed ranks around them as they left. A large group, they made their way from Father’s camp and once they stopped for a short break, Co
lin reappeared from where he’d vanished. He had put his shirt on and looked even more a corsair now. His hair was pulled back, an act that exposed his gold hoop. The open V on the shirt distracted her as did the two swords hanging around his hips.

  “Najja?”

  She stepped toward him only to freeze when he backed away. “What?”

  “Luv, I cannot touch you right now, I have to get us to the ship safely.” His gaze burned with dark promise. “Then…then…”

  Najja nodded, her skin prickled with anticipation. Colin left and the group got underway again. The men were vigilant but then so was she, Pug remained at her side. The pace was fast and it was near dark when they reached a ship.

  A beautiful clipper. Across the stern the word “Reliance” was carved.

  “Onboard!” Colin’s voice carried over the noise.

  She and Pug followed the men up to the deck. They dispersed to attend other duties and alone, she stared down the gangplank at Trystan and Colin. The men embraced before Trystan waved at her and went a different way. Colin bounded up the ramp, shouting orders.

  “Aye, Captain!” were the responses he received.

  The men were efficient for soon they were heading into the ocean. She stood by the rail and again watched Africa vanish. The moon was blotted out by a man’s shape.

  Colin.

  “Najja,” he said softly, cupping her face in his hands.

  Tears pricked her eyes as she looked up. “You came for me with an army.” An entire army of men, for her.

  His lips moved over hers with feather light caresses. “I meant never, Najja. Are you okay?”

  Was she? For the first time in her life she knew she was.

  “I am now.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, heated skin burning her through the clothes.

  “Forever mine, Najja.”

  His strong arms lifted her and she swallowed her squeak of surprise. She allowed him to carry her and they halted before a door. Without releasing her, he opened the door and entered the cabin. This was his room, she knew it instinctively.

  In one corner on a perch sat Indrani, the sight brought more tears to her eyes. The bird chirped a welcome.

  He set her on her feet and closed the door. Her vision was filled by Colin, his eyes smoldered as they roved over her. Handsome. Powerful. Muscular. Smooth, predatory steps brought him before her.

  With one hand settled along the side of her face, he whispered, “I love you, Najja. There is nowhere I will not follow you.”

  “How did you--”

  “My ship. My men.” His thumb skimmed her lower lip. “My woman.” His gaze burned into hers as he spoke those last two words.

  She smiled at his possessive words. They didn’t bother her in the least.

  “Where is Pug?”

  “In his own cabin.” He couldn’t stop touching her. His fingers moved from her face to her hair and back again, continually. “Marry me, Najja. We can go anywhere, live anywhere. All I desire is you.”

  “You are titled.”

  His lips lifted at one corner. “Marry me and you will be as well. Countess Clifton. Najja Falkner. My wife. The mother of my children, Pug and others.”

  “I…I…”

  “Are my everything.”

  He kissed her. A move that effectively silenced any more protests. His kiss mastered her and she willingly submitted. When he broke it, his shirt had been pushed to the floor, her hands allowed full contact to his bare skin. Her limbs shook and an arrogant, knowing, smirk filled his face.

  “Yes,” she said on a quiet breath.

  “Yes?”

  Her nod was her response. The future may very well be uncertain and bumpy. All she knew was she was the one being protected now, for Colin wouldn’t let anything harm her. He’d proved that.

  “We should work on getting a sibling for Pug.” He winked. “Or two.”

  “Your injuries.”

  He watched her from lowered lids. “Later.”

  As he carried her to the bed, lay her on it and began to undress her, she watched him. Pirate. Gypsy. Corsair. Words which still described him. As well as earl. And most important. Hers.

  She had been wrong about Africa being home. Colin was home. He was her love, her rock, her earl and her everything. And she, a woman who had been known as an assassin, disposable and immaterial had something much more. She was what the earl desired.

  About the Author

  ALIYAH BURKE is an avid reader and is never far from pen and paper (or the computer). She loves to hear from her readers and can be reached at http://aliyah-burke.com/blog/contact/ or feel free to apply to join her yahoo group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/aliyah_burke.

  She is married to a career military man, they have a German Shepherd, a Borzoi, and a DSH cat. Her days are spent sharing her time between work, writing, and dog training.

 

 

 


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