Caribbean Scot

by Kimberly Killion

  “Ye’ve a monkey who goes about lighting torches? Surely ye jest.”

  “Myah is well compensated. I daresay she likes nuts more than I.” Reid pulled Robbie’s arm through his and escorted her toward the larder, eager to show her how the water wheel pumped fresh water into the kitchens and the bath chamber.

  “Why do ye keep company with so many animals?”

  “Their diet keeps the place free of insects, snakes, and small vermin. They also ease the silence.” He wouldn’t dampen their conversation with words of loneliness. “’Tis why there are no doors. Oscar drove me half mad wanting in and out so I removed them.”

  “It feels free.” Robbie exhaled and hooked her arm through his.

  “Aye.” Reid smoothed his fingers over hers, enjoying her companionship, and explained how the windmill connected to a series of wheels that turned the fans in the ceilings of every chamber. He prattled on about the number of heartwood trees he’d felled to build Rukux and how the women spent many a summer’s eve dying eels of silk to decorate the interior.

  “This heartwood tree produces the dye? ’Tis why everything is red?” she asked.

  “Everything, apart from your chamber.” He kissed her hand and then set her before the open doorway. “I wanted it to be special for you.”

  Reid held his breath as Robbie walked to the center of the chamber he’d decorated in light pink silks and spun a full circle atop the fur rug. She paid no heed to the pink chair with matching footstool or the two armoires filled with baubles and lightweight gowns. Not even the cradle he’d built for their first born caught her eye.

  She looked up, and a heartbeat later, her hands flew to her mouth. Though restrained, she sobbed with emotions.

  His efforts had not gone in vain. Her awe-filled expression was his reward.

  “Are you impressed?”

  Her nod was slow in coming, but her beautiful green eyes brimmed with tears of wonder.

  His insides warmed, and his heart clenched with undeniable yearning. He wanted her more than anything else, but he selfishly realized he wanted her here at Rukux.

  “’Tis perfectly magnificent,” Robbie whispered and swiped at the tears rolling over her cheeks. ’Twas impossible not to be touched by such a display.

  Living stars twinkled through a circular glass dome in the ceiling like the reflection atop the loch. A wide ledge rounded the circumference of the chamber and overflowed with long, slender, green reeds. ’Twas like an upside down garden alight by a dozen evenly distributed candle lamps mounted to the walls beneath the ledge.

  But what burned her chest with emotions were the butterflies. Hundreds of them clustered together amidst the thick lush plants. Most of them were orange, but others were vibrant blues, yellows, and turquoise.

  “They winter here and are attracted by the flame.” Reid’s silken voice drew her back to reality.

  “Why?” she breathed, bewildered. No one had ever given her such a gift.

  “When the weather turns cold in other parts of the world, they flock—”

  Robbie shook her head, stilling his tongue. She didn’t want another of his lectures. “Why do ye attract them here? In this chamber?”

  Reid strode toward her, took her hand, and flattened his palm to hers. “Do you not remember the butterflies I gave you when you were a young lass?”

  “They were dead moths. And I never knew why ye gave them to me.”

  His dove-colored eyes held her gaze for long moments before he raised her hand to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist. “When you were a wean and I just six, mayhap seven, winters, I went with Da to the cot-house in Glenstrae where you lived before you moved into the stronghold. ’Twas summer and Fergus wanted to race frogs, but I wanted to watch your mam rock you beneath the shade of a willow tree. Every time she attempted to set you aside, you awoke and cried.”

  “Grandda always said I was born with temper.”

  Reid’s agreement came in the form of a hoot and a wee bit too quickly.

  “Go on.” She enjoyed his story as much as the way he tickled the inside of her wrist with the side of his thumb. “Your mam asked if I would hold you so she could tend to her duties. You were so small and delicate and precious. Your lips were rose red and heart-shaped the same as they are today.” Reid brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, causing her throat to clench.

  “And your lashes glittered like gold in the sunlight, but it was the butterfly that landed on your cheek that kept the memory alive in my mind for years to come. It sat there long moments, slowly flapping its wings and kissing your cheek.” Reid paused to chuckle. “I remember being jealous of the creature.” He curled a loose lock behind her ear, but his crooked grin fell away and his eyelids slid to half closed.

  “Months after Da took me from you, I had a reoccurring dream. I was that same orange butterfly, but I only had one wing. I spun circles in the dirt, helpless. I couldnae fly, and just when I stopped spinning, I would awaken terrified.”

  She probably should be more sympathetic, but the image of Reid MacGregor being terrorized by a dream involving a butterfly struck her as humorous. “Ye poor lamb,” she cooed in a teasing tone, then giggled.

  Red tinted his bronze skin instantly. “The ancient Mayas believed butterflies were the spirits of dead warriors descending to earth in disguise,” he defended his masculinity with a lecture. “Butterflies are a symbol of fertility, rebirth, and happiness.”

  “Forgive me.” She patted his hand, finding his sensitivity charming, but the smile threatening her lips couldn’t be contained.

  The lines between his brows deepened. “If you choose to mock me, I’ll not finish.”

  She bit the corner of her lip and pasted on a serious face. “Go on.”

  He blew a breath that warmed her cheek and eventually continued. “After Da died, the dream returned. Jax insisted I pay visit to their shaman—a priest of sorts—who interpreted the dream for me. The Mopán people believe there exists two worlds: the dream world and the waking world. A being cannae find oneness until both his worlds are satisfied. The shaman said my inner being was lost and in order for my two worlds to exist in harmony, I needed to find my butterfly’s other wing. My twin he’d called it.”

  “Your twin?” Robbie repeated, incredulous, hoping the man would soon make his point.

  “The wings of a butterfly are said to be twins, one being identical of the other. The butterfly cannae function properly without both, but there is a third part that must exist to keep the butterfly alive—the core of the butterfly—the heart. This is known as the Rukux. The shaman explained that in my dream, I was the half of the butterfly that represented my waking world, and the part that was missing—my twin, my other half—was my dreams.” He held her chin up with the tip of his index finger. “Robbie, you’re the half of the butterfly that fulfills my dream world.”

  She stared at him when he finished. His words were poetic and wildly romantic, but impossibly unbelievable. No longer did she have the urge to laugh. S’truth, his words frightened her. “We are far from twins. Ye are a dreamer who thinks entirely too much, and I am a realist. Ye are patient to a fault. I act without thought. Ye are dark, where I am fair. Ye are warm and sensitive, and I am cold and bitter.” As she pointed out their opposing qualities, she felt herself stepping further away from him. She lived each day with one simple goal—survival.

  “Our differences can be our strengths. Without you, the Rukux has no reason to beat.” He clasped his own heart.

  What he was saying was madness. He placed too much faith in the lass he’d left behind. That girl of ten and three no longer existed and the woman she’d become could never live up to his expectations. “Ye are foolish to believe that I am your other half simply because a butterfly landed on my cheek when I was but a wean.”

  Her words seemed to suck his soul straight out of his body. His chin fell to his chest. His arms went slack as did his body. “’Twas just a dream.”

  “A dre
am ye based your entire existence on. A dream that impacted ye in such a way that ye returned to Scotland for me. Ye named your ship for me,” she added in a rush and looked up at the heavenly creation above her. “Ye built this place for me because ye believe I am capable of making ye whole. What if I’m not the other half?”

  Reid’s head snapped up. “What if you are, but are too afraid to accept it?”

  Robbie turned away from him, unable to bear the weight of his penetrating silver eyes, but he spun her back around and forced her to look at him. His fingertips dug into her shoulders. “Unlike you, I wear my dreams on my sleeve.”

  “I have dreams,” she spat back, insulted. “I want to free the clan from persecution. I want Grandda to awaken without pain. I want baby Alana and all the women of Clan MacGregor to have a chance at happiness.”

  “Those are goals, and they shadow your own dreams.”

  “This is foolishness.” She tried to pull away from him, uncomfortable with the subject, but he pinned her in place.

  “Is it? Have ye no dreams left from your childhood? Or did the clan steal those from you as well?”

  She pursed her lips, her chin jutted out. She had dreams, none of which Reid MacGregor could ever fulfill. “I wanted to marry a king and live in a castle,” she blurted out. “I wanted to sleep in a bed draped in eels of colorful silks.” She poked him in the chest. “Ye are no king.” She poked him again. “And this is no castle.”

  Reid’s smug smile ignited her temper. Why had she let him goad her?

  “I could be your king and Rukux your castle.” He released her and gestured toward the only door she’d seen thus far. “As for the bed draped in silk, mayhap you should have a look-see into our chamber.”

  Only because she was eager to free herself from the subject at hand did she barrel into the next chamber. She expected lavishness and was not disappointed. The walls were draped in red silk that formed into a cushioned bench seat circling half the chamber. The exotic scent tickling her nose told her there were flowers, but she didn’t look for them as her gaze was fixed on the only piece of furniture in the chamber—a bed. But this was no ordinary bed. It was round, covered in layers of red silk, and brimming with red and gold bolsters. A masterpiece of etched gold hung from the ceiling to create a canopy over the bed. Inside was a chandelier of flickering candles that brought the chamber to a pulsing glow.

  A chill rushed over her skin, and Robbie told herself it came from the rotating blades spinning overhead, but that was a lie.

  I could be your king and Rukux your castle. She hugged herself, fearing the temptation. Reid offered her the Garden of Eden, and she didn’t know if she possessed the strength to resist the apple.

  Reid’s hot breath warmed her neck before his words fell into her ear. “This time, I intend to kiss you.”

  17

  ~ SURRENDER ~

  He was the devil incarnate—a serpent inviting her to the tree of life. She should run away screaming. Robbie felt vulnerable, trapped, and terrified by the kiss he placed at the nape of her neck. While desire overwhelmed her physically, this was no longer about slaking their lusts. Reid wanted more than her body. He wanted her wholly and completely.

  An inner voice warned her to proceed with caution. She knew this voice well. ’Twas the same voice that stripped her of confidence. The same voice that ridiculed her for not retaining Eoin’s interests, now told her she wasn’t the person Reid created in his fantasies. She didn’t possess his passion, but as he eased her head back with the tips of his fingers and brushed tiny delicate kisses along her jaw, she no longer cared what that annoying voice had to say.

  Her lids slid shut. She nibbled on the inside corner of her lip to stifle her quickening breaths. Gooseflesh broke out over her chest and a shiver scraped up her spine.

  “You are a riddle, Mary-Robena Wallace.” He pressed his mouth to the skin beneath her lobe, making her pulse slip out of cadence. “Do you want to know why?”

  Nay. Her lips parted, but no words came out. She didn’t want to hear the man’s theories or his lectures or his chatter. She wanted him to hold his wheesht and kiss her.

  “An hour past, ye were mounting me like an animal in heat.” Again, he kissed the nape of her neck. “And now, you are trembling like a virgin on her wedding night.”

  “We both know I’m no virgin,” she shot back and tried to turn around, but he held her in place with one hand wrapped around her throat.

  “Mayhap in body, but what of your spirit?” His fingers slid across her shoulders to the fastenings at the back of her gown. He released the top button.

  She chuckled. “Think ye I’m interested in hearing more of your chatter about reincarnated butterfly warriors?”

  “What are ye interested in?” Reid slowly pushed the buttons of her gown through their counter holes and kissed the knobs of her spine as he exposed them.

  She was interested in having the man inside her—fast and hard, but his actions told her he had no intention of advancing quickly. Her skin tingled beneath his lips, and her breasts grew heavy. In fact, everything inside her thickened and pulled toward her core. His attention was intoxicating and nigh melted the bones in her legs. Her fingers flexed inside her fists wanting to assist him, wanting to expedite his task. “’Tis not necessary for ye to do that. I can simply pull the gown over my head.”

  “But your haste would cost ye the pleasure of anticipation.”

  A lump of dry air strangled her. Pleasure she wanted. It was the emotional bond he sought that frightened her. He wanted her soul.

  Oh, aye, the man was the devil.

  When the buttons ran out, he pushed the material over her hips to form a buttery yellow puddle at her feet. Then, at last, he stepped in front of her. His face stole her breath and his silver-blue eyes made her want to weep, so great was his beauty. She pressed her hands against his marble-cut chest, wanting the heat of his skin flush against hers.

  “When I was a lad, I dreamed about kissing you.” He cradled the back of her head in his palm, then dipped his face toward hers. His eyes remained open as he suckled her bottom lip, nibbling lightly. “I knew not how to kiss a lass, but I wanted to learn on your soft lips.” He skimmed her top lip with the tip of his tongue.

  She closed her eyes and opened her mouth to invite him in.

  “Keep your eyes open when you kiss me.”

  When she did as he asked, he finally kissed her. His warm tongue swept through her mouth like liquid silk. He flicked the tip of her tongue, playing with her, drawing her deeper into a world of excruciating rapture. Her body hummed with desire. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears and pulsed between her thighs. ’Twas maddening, but what made her knees weak was the hold between their gazes—a connection that cut straight to her heart and threatened to consume her.

  Unable to bear it, she slammed her eyes shut, wove her fingers through his hair and pulled him hard against her mouth. When he gave in to her aggression, she tugged at the waistband of his breeks.

  “Nay.” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and brought her hand back to his smooth chest. “I’ve waited far too long for this, and you’re going to control yourself.”

  Her lips pursed into a pout. “But I’m not as patient as ye.”

  “Then I fear the coming hours might be torturous for you.” He descended on her mouth once again.

  Hours? She was fortunate if Eoin lasted minutes before rolling over to seek his slumber. Oh, she couldn’t wait hours. Her body was as taut as a fresh strung bow. His exotic scent and his delicious warm taste made her toes curl and pop. Her nipples sharpened into painful peaks and fiery liquid saturated her smooth nether lips. Lost in euphoria, she didn’t know how long he kissed her, nor did she realized he’d pulled all the laces from the back of her corset until the rigid garment fell away from her body.

  She stiffened and jerked out of his embrace. Instantly, she crossed her arms over the thin material of her undershift to hide her small breasts. An altogether differen
t heat burned her skin. Self-awareness mixed with apprehension shook her limbs. ’Twas ridiculous, but tears welled in her eyes. She pinned her chin to her chest, hiding her embarrassment. She didn’t want him to see her. He’d preconceived everything about her and what he would find beneath her bodice was sure to disappoint him.

  “What is it, love? What have I done?” Worry touched his raspy words.

  “I dinnae want this.”

  “That is a lie.” He raised her chin with the tip of his finger and the gentleness in his eyes pushed tears over her lids.

  “I want the corset back on.”

  Deep creases formed between his brows. “Why?”

  She plucked the bone-stiff garment off the floor and shook her head, not knowing how to explain. “Please,” she pleaded, holding the corset against her. “I’m much more appealing with the garment on.”

  The look of sheer bewilderment smoothed the lines in his forehead. “There’s nothing about you I dinnae find exquisite.” He tickled the full length of her collarbone twice, then pushed the thin straps of her undershift over her shoulders. He leaned forward and kissed her breastbone, persuading her to release her hold.

  An icy tingle wrapped around her nipples. Mayhap it was best he know she wasn’t the deity of perfection he’d created in his mind. “Ye will be disappointed.”

  “Never.” He lowered her arms and pushed her garment to her waist, then stared at her breasts. Licking his bottom lip, he held silent, which only heightened her humiliation.

  Mayhap she should make light of her less than adequate qualities. “Fergus always teased me about getting my titties. I s’pose I’m still waiting.”

  His response to her quip was a heavy exhale that sounded akin to a growl. He brushed her erect nipple lightly with the palm of his hand, running from heel to fingertip and back. “They are perfect.” He cupped her right breast and rolled the hard nub of flesh between his thumb and index finger. His breathing escalated. “Like ripe peaches with pink berries atop.”

  The comparison made her giggle, but when he leaned down to taste the treat he’d described, she quit breathing. Reid pulled her nipple into the heat of his mouth and dined on it with expertise. Demonstrating constant gentleness, his tongue feathered over the tip and circled the areola. He sucked, licked, and flicked her nipple until the sensitive flesh stood out like the tip of her finger, then to her delighted shock, he bit her.