“Poppy! You’ll make yourself sick.”
She laughed. “Don’t lecture. I feel fine, Taylor. Better than fine. I…well I’ll tell you after the Council meets. Now get out. I need to get dressed.”
When the door shut behind him, Annabel grabbed her crutches and walked into the bathroom. She stripped off her robe, staring at the leather thong around her waist. Faeran had told her he would change it to an anklet later, after the Council, but for now it would allow her to keep her pelt with her and keep it hidden. She was quickly realizing that Faeran and Brayden both had a flair for the dramatic. They had convinced Cayden to go in with Carrick and allow them to accompany Annabel. Dress was traditional, Faeran explained, and as a member of the nobility, she could choose to wear her pelt pinned to her shoulder if it was her wish.
He grinned at her then. “It will be as you say, my lady.”
Annabel smiled slowly. “Oh what the hell. Let’s make a statement.”
A few minutes later, they stood outside the doors to the conference room. Everyone else had gone in. Faeran was “listening” to what was being said while Brayden pinned the pelt to her shoulder.
“I love a woman with guts enough to be bold. Too bad you’re my niece.”
“Great niece.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“How old are you two anyway?”
Faeran scowled. “About the equivalent of thirty-five. The pup there is thirty, give or take a few human years.”
She looked them both up and down. “You don’t look that old, but then Great-grandpa Rory hardly looks his age either.”
Brayden snickered. “Oh that will go over well. I’ll have you know, we mature early, then age very slowly. Are you ready?”
Annabel straightened on her crutches and as she moved her left leg forward, she felt her toes grip the deck. She halted abruptly. With conscious thought she tried to wiggle her toes—nothing—but as she moved her right foot forward, she felt again the movement of her toes. She halted again. Her breathing had suddenly quickened.
“Bell? What is it?” Faeran touched her arm. Concern darkened his midnight blue eyes, so similar to her own.
She swallowed as she turned to him, her own eyes wide as she filled with a mixture of hope and fear. “I felt my toes move.”
Both men looked down at her feet. “Can you wiggle them?”
“No. But when I stepped forward, I felt them move.”
“Show us.” Brayden ordered.
As she stepped forward, they grinned. “They did move.” Faeran confirmed. “Give me those damn crutches. If they’re moving on their own, let’s see how you do with just us supporting you.”
She was a little unsteady, but as they tested her a few feet down the deck, she gained confidence. “I think I can do it if you two will help.” She looked up from one to the other and burst into tears.
“Here! Stop that!” Brayden growled, glancing around uneasily. “No tears. It makes me nervous, and you’ll make your face splotchy.”
Faeran wiped them away with the pads of his thumbs. “Ignore the pup. No finesse. Now, chin up. You are going to blow them away.”
As they approached the conference door, Faeran reached out to fling it wide and they marched in with Annabel between them. As she saw the faces of the council, the faces of Carrick and Catriona, she smiled, but there was really only one face she wanted to find. Cayden came toward her slowly, watching her progress on the arms of Faeran and Brayden.
“Bell?” he whispered. “You’re walking?’
She nodded. “Not much, but it’s better than yesterday.”
His glance skittered From Faeran to Brayden. “Thank you.”
Riordan stood, but his eyes were locked on the pelt hanging from Annabel’s shoulder. He scowled at her, and then turned icy dark eyes on Cayden and Carrick. “What is the meaning of this? You would parade her before this Council as if the outcome were already certain?”
His voice began to rise. Dylan stood at his side, also frowning, but his gaze was locked solely on Annabel. “Who are you, human?” he snapped.
Though her fingers trembled on Faeran’s and Brayden’s arms at the fury of the two men before her, she raised her chin and faced them calmly.
“I am Annabel Barton, daughter of Phillip, granddaughter of Taurent, and your great-granddaughter, King Riordan.”
Each word she spoke rocked the Silkie Lords seated around the table. Riordan’s eyes shifted to Faeran. “Is this the truth, Faeran? You have examined this human? She bears the mark?”
Faeran smiled and touched Annabel’s pelt. “No human, father. A Silkie, a true Silkie of the sea, and yes, she bears the mark. A great-granddaughter.” His eyes shifted to Dylan. “A great-niece.”
As Brayden stepped back, Cayden took her right hand, carried it to his lips and then wrapped it securely around his forearm. “Lean on me.”
She smiled up at him. I love you!
Cayden turned to Riordan. “Your grace, I humbly beg you for your great-granddaughter’s hand in marriage.” He looked from his parents to the men around the table. “A true mating of Silkie royalty.”
Riordan stared hard at his eldest and youngest sons. “I should like to hear this tale, and I believe there is one other person who should also hear it. Have the human, Taylor Sto—Barton brought into our midst.”
Cayden helped Annabel to a chair, his hands never leaving her as he stroked her arm and held her hand. It would have been so easy to lose herself in his eyes, and she thought back once again to their lovemaking last night. Even now, the memory of that wild, earthy mating on the beach sent a shiver of desire through her. When she dared to look at Cayden, she saw the same heat flaring in his eyes.
Soon, he promised. We’ll swim to a favorite beach of mine. I’ll take you again as a Silkie takes his mate.
The door opened, and Taylor stepped in, flanked by Faeran and Brayden. Seen together like this, the similarity was unmistakable.
“Be seated, Taylor Barton,” Riordan commanded.
Taylor took the seat next to Annabel. When he looked at her with questions flooding his deep blue eyes, she simply smiled and turned her attention back to Riordan. The Silkie king now regarded his eldest and youngest sons severely.
“I do not care for surprises, yet you two have always completely ignored that fact. Now, I would like to know how you ascertained the relationship.”
Faeran cleared his throat. “Brayden was the first to remark upon Bell’s name. Although I pointed out that Barton was not an uncommon name among humans, it did rouse my interest, particularly in light of her relationship with Lord Cayden. Taylor actually supplied me with the name of their father, and then I knew.”
He looked at his father apologetically. “I must beg your forgiveness, but I was just a child at the time Taurent died. I went to see the house on the point where he had lived for all those years. I met Phillip who simply thought I was a boy vacationing here for the summer.”
He turned to Annabel then. “I must ask your forgiveness as well, for I believe it was my visit that reminded Phillip of who he was. We talked of the Silkie, but your father rejected the idea yet again. When he turned his back on us and our ways, Phillip became despondent.”
Annabel felt Taylor grow increasingly tense as he sat next to her. She reached out to cover his clenched fist with her hand and squeezed lightly. He looked at her and she saw reflected in his eyes all of the doubts and fears that she had felt last night.
Riordan looked at all of them. “I cannot see any impediment to marriage between Cayden, son of Carrick, Lord of the Atlantic and my great-granddaughter, Annabel Barton.”
Cayden leaned over, turned her face toward him and kissed her softly. As he nuzzled her ear, he whispered. “I will love you forever, my beautiful Annabel Lee.”
****
Taylor stared at the gathering of Silkies watching from the upper deck of the Skerry. “Are you sure about this?” he asked his newly found uncles. “Do I really have to bare my
ass to everyone?”
Brayden snorted and even Faeran smiled slightly.
“Unless you plan on being the only seal wearing board shorts,” Brayden snickered, “you’ll need to give them the full Monty.”
Taylor looked over his shoulder to where Poppy stood next to Cayden. Poppy stood. It still blew his mind. Well shit. If she had enough guts to do this, he could too. As soon as he stripped off his shorts he dove off the Skerry’s stern.
Faeran and Brayden surfaced on either side of him.
“Tread water. Close your eyes so you can concentrate, and I want you to picture watching Cayden change.”
Taylor would never forget that; it had blown his mind. Now it was him. As he felt Faeran’s hands on his head and chest, Taylor’s breathing accelerated.
“Relax.”
Shit, this was really happening! Feeling as if everything inside him had scrambled and unscrambled, Taylor suddenly found himself shooting off beneath the water. The speed was incredible, like skimming over the water in his racing skiff. Only this time the water flowed over and around him just like the wind kissed him while sailing.
Not too long, pup , Faeran cautioned. This time’s just for show so you can prove you’re one of us. Surface and I’ll help you change back.
The tingle of the change barely registered as he shook back his hair and looked up to see Poppy and Cay smiling down and waving at him. He looked around at everyone. They all smiled at him, and he realized suddenly that he’d turn in to a squid if it meant he could call all these people family.
Epilogue
Annabel had plenty of offers to escort her to the bow of the Skerry the following month for Riordan’s blessing on their marriage, but she turned every single one of them down. As Cayden stood next to his father and watched her, he understood why. With her chin lifted and her honey brown hair pulled up and back so that her curls still cascaded down her back, she looked positively regal in her traditional Silkie gown as she walked—alone—between the parted gathering of guests to take his outstretched hand.
He took just one more moment to gaze upon her, feeling his breath quicken and his cock jerk. God! The pale blue, diaphanous material left almost nothing to the imagination. He could see the aroused pink tips of her nipples along with the shadowy cleft of her sex. He could already smell the arousal in the air around him. Silkies loved sex. While he’d gotten permission to consummate their marriage privately, Cayden knew there would very likely be an orgy going on outside.
He smiled and pulled her forward, hoping like hell that King Rory would hurry up with the blessing part so that he and Annabel could get on to the consummation part. When he looked into her dark blue eyes, he saw the same desire reflected there.
You know where I want to go?
Cayden cocked an eyebrow at her. “Our cove,” he whispered. “We’ll take the Belle and spend the night there. And this time there won’t be any interruptions.”
She smiled at him in such a way he was grateful for once that his feileadh hid a lot more than her dress did.
A word about the author...
From the moment Rhett walked out on Scarlett, Laura’s been hooked on romance. Deciding truth really is stranger than fiction, though, she chose a career path in journalism. Laura now teaches English and has returned to her first love—writing fiction.
She lives with her husband and son in central North Carolina along with a menagerie of animals that includes two rowdy Jack Russells and a gentle white mare named Tweed. When she’s not reading or writing, Laura enjoys riding, photography, and baking the best darned carrot cake you’ve ever tasted.
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The Silkie's Call Page 23