“I know it was them because I spotted their ship off the coast just as the storm made landfall. It was as though they were escorting it to shore and using it to cover their advancement.”
“Which ship?” Brendan asked, standing.
“The Santa Maria,” Saban provided.
“Santiago’s ship,” Rose sneered. “Damn blood-hungry dog.”
“But how did they know where to strike? No one knows where our hidden cove is,” Lucian inquired, a dagger in his hand. He was flipping it easily, and twirling it, first in one hand then the other. Robbie could tell Lucian would be deadly with that dagger.
For the first time, Robbie counted his supposed connection to the Rees as a boon. He would hate to be the enemy of a Rees.
“They hit us as we left the clearing where we stash the horses. It is easy enough to wait there for us, they wouldn’t have to know where the entrance is, just where we go to get our horses,” Saban replied, beginning to pace again.
“Someone in the village must have told them,” Lucian reasoned.
“It could have been him,” Rose said and pointed at Robbie.
Anger flashed through him like a blaze. He shot to his feet, ready to fight for his life if he had to. “Like hell it was me. I didn’t even know about you or this place until Saban broke down Glynnis’s door—where I was recovering from a shipwreck, mind you—and dragged us here. I haven’t left since; who was I to tell?”
“How did you even know to find us? We pay a lot of people a lot of money to keep their mouths shut about us—and we threaten the rest. Who told you about Saban? About the Ganwyd o’r Mor?” Brendan asked, squaring his shoulders to better peer at Robbie.
Sighing, he returned to his seat. “A letter.”
“What letter?” Glynnis asked, her husky voice like a balm to his increasingly wary mind.
“Before I was a shipwreck survivor I was a highwayman. I robbed the nobles and wealthy merchants who travelled along the River Aire. I’ve never been caught and I make more in one robbery then any farmer or tanner could make in his lifetime.” He didn’t know why he needed Glynnis to hear it, but he was glad she did.
Rose chuckled. “You got Rees blood, alright. Whether land or sea, we plunder.”
Robbie gave her a quick grimace before continuing. “It was one such successful robbery where I stole a box with a letter inside. The letter was from some Royal Navy man to a duke named…Revel.”
“What about them?” Saban asked, his arms crossed, his gaze trained on Robbie.
“Have you heard of them?”
“Nay.”
“The letter was an order for Revel to find twelve men—of exceptional skill—to take a ship across the Irish Sea,” Robbie continued, silent prayers rising that he wouldn’t die as the bearer of such news.
You should have told him sooner… Ignoring the sharp tone of his inward thoughts he rolled his shoulders to rid them of the tension. It didn’t work.
“What were the men supposed to do once they crossed the sea?” Lucian asked.
“They were to capture one Saban “the Sabre” Rees, any of his family members, or any member of the Ganwyd o’r Mor.” Once Robbie finished speaking, it was as though God had sucked the sound from the world.
“Damn and hellfire,” Saban spat, but then something dark and hard crossed his features. “We will deal with them when they come, but before that we will mete out our revenge on the Demonios.”
Rose hopped up onto her feet, a glittering light in her emerald eyes. “I know just what to do.” She disappeared as she had appeared, slipping into the shadows.
“Get some rest, Rees, we will plan on the morrow. I have to think…” Saban stopped pacing and instead headed toward the back of the cavern where Robbie supposed his cottage was located.
Soon, Brendan and Lucian found their own beds, leaving Glynnis and Robbie alone.
And God…he needed her.
Before he could speak even a word of what he felt, Glynnis stood and cocked her head, studying him. She’d said very little during the interchange between the Rees, but he could tell that she’d heard every word, internalized the information…understood the magnitude of what the others were saying.
Aye, but do you? Aye, he understood what the others were planning, and it probably meant he would end up on another ship, praying to survive the journey.
Not having said a word, Glynnis simply picked up her skirts and turned, practically running to her cottage. The urge to chase her was too strong, and so he did, catching her just as she stepped across the threshold into the small building.
A single bed, a wash basin, a fire pit, and a chest were all the room held, but his eyes were on Glynnis. He couldn’t look away even if someone threatened to slice him into pieces.
He’d taken her hand, halting her, but it was she who held him in place…with her wide gaze, her shuddering breaths, and her gently parted lips. She exuded a heat, a vibrating yearning that he could feel right down to his bones.
“Glynnis…I need to…” He swallowed the growing urgency and pressed his forehead against hers, inhaling her scent, feeling the warmth of her flow into him, drowning him. “I want to…” How could he tell this woman the depths of what he felt? He couldn’t even understand it himself. It was absolutely wild, unbelievable—how did a man fall so quickly in such a short time? It went beyond wanting to pleasure her, though, that was something he absolutely wanted to do. It was about her, being with her, even if he could never touch her…just seeing her, knowing she was there…was enough.
Nay! Not enough. Never enough. Not with Glynnis.
“Robbie,” Glynnis whispered, her voice heavy, husky, alluring. She gazed up into his face, pulling away just enough to brush her lips against his.
He trembled, brought low by the wee widow in his arms. “Aye?”
“Make love to me.”
Chapter Ten
Glynnis took a bowl of boiled oats from Lucia and smiled at her friend, who smiled back, knowingly. It might be a large cavern, but it was impossible to keep what she and Robbie had done a secret for long. Not that she wanted to keep it a secret…but she didn’t want the guilt that would come if anyone mentioned her late husband.
Robbie had woken before her, leaving the bed warm and smelling of him. It was a striking and wholly addicting way to wake up. She’d dressed quickly, because she wanted to know how Saban and his crewman fared, and…well…because she wanted to see Robbie.
That was, until she stepped from the cottage and found several pairs of eyes staring at her. She couldn’t stop the flush that blasted heat into her cheeks, so, she’d ignored it and she’d ignore them.
Avoiding Robbie’s possessive, hungry gaze, she settled on a stool beside Rose who was sitting with her head between her hands, moaning. She must’ve imbibed more than was good for her the night before.
What is becoming of you, old friend? Years ago, before William’s betrayal, she’d spent many hours with Rose, getting to know her betrothed’s family before the wedding. She’d been level-headed, quick-witted, and even-tempered. She never imbibed in wine or ale and spent much of her time tending to her garden.
Something had changed…and Glynnis couldn’t begin to guess what.
“Why are the Demonios even here? What could they possibly want this far from their usual haunts? Have they run out of ships to plunder in the mid-Atlantic?” Brendan intoned while securing a belt and sheath around his waist.
“Might it have something to do with the English and their hunt for you, Saban?” Lucian asked, tightening his own belt and sliding his feet into his boots. The men were preparing for something…but why was Robbie still just sitting there, leaning back against the boulder, his muscular arms folded over a chest she’d attempted to memorize the night before as she pressed her cheek against it.
Robbie was a Rees, why wasn’t he as agitated as the other men?
“Possibly,” Saban intoned, his gaze locked on the dancing flames in the small cooking fire. “It
is even more possible that they just want to stir up trouble.”
“That would be my guess,” Rose croaked, not bothering to raise her head. “My eyes and ears in Nantes who hear from my ears in Bilbao, who speak to my ears in Lisbon say that the Portuguese are exploring further south, into the dark continent.”
“What of it?” Saban asked, his tone telling of his impatience.
Rose lifted her head then, sneering at Saban. “It means that with so many Portuguese ships roaming their waters, the Spaniards are probably looking for new places to plunder, ones that won’t bring them face to face with warships and cannon fire.”
Saban ignored Rose’s sneer. “It seems that we have yet another enemy hungry for a taste of our blood.”
Saban lifted his chin, apparently signaling to Brendan and Lucian to follow him. The three men rose and made their way to a corner where they squatted in a circle, their heads nearly touching as they spoke in murmurs.
Glynnis could feel the tension rise around her, and she finally met Robbie’s gaze. He was seething, silently, his big, taut frame twitching with the need to move.
Go to him… She needed to touch him, to comfort him, to help him calm his anger before he said or did something he would regret.
Placing her uneaten bowl of oats on the ground she stood and made her way to Robbie. His eyes followed her, sliding over her as she moved…much as his hands…and his tongue had a few hours before. The ache began in her lower belly, the ache that told her she needed him, but she stopped before him and clenched her thighs, fighting back her baser urges.
“You look troubled,” she said, tipping her head to look down at him. He threw his arm up behind his head to cradle it, and Glynnis was enraptured by the ease at which he moved, and how quickly he could go from cold and angry to hot and enticing. The devil smirked up at her, his lopsided smile too wicked…too ravishing.
“I am troubled…by my desire to have you naked beneath me as I pleasure you…”
Someone behind her cleared their throat, then coughed.
“You best leave such talk to more private moments,” Rose croaked, her usually tanned face now pale and almost green. “As much as I enjoy a good bawdy tale, I would much rather it not be one I have witnessed myself…between my own cousins—blood or no.” Rising, Rose staggered a bit before finding her feet. “Have you never heard of closed doors and closed lips? My God, what if Saban—never mind,” she clipped as her gaze focused on something over Glynnis’s right shoulder.
Saban was standing there, handsome, glaring, his hands on his hips.
“Come, Robbie, ‘tis time for you to come up for air,” Saban announced, using his chin to indicate up…outside of the sea cave, obviously choosing to ignore what he might have seen or heard. “Glynnis and Rose, you too. I think we all could use some sunlight.”
Robbie grunted but said nothing as he lifted his body from the floor, lithe and agile, like a wolf in human clothing. Glynnis didn’t have time to move before Robbie’s hand was grasping hers tightly. She gazed down at where they were touching. She blinked, uncertain of what she was seeing… Was Robbie the Ravishing actually…holding her hand? She blinked again. Aye…he was. Warmth filled her and she smiled.
His eyes dancing with green fire, Robbie didn’t return her smile. The sounds of men travelling down the tunnel toward the clifftops reminded her that they were on the move. Robbie pulled her into his chest and landed a kiss on her mouth.
Breaking their kiss, he huffed, “We will finish this when we return…and we’re alone.”
Delirious from the quick yet heated kiss, Glynnis only nodded.
They followed the others through the maze of damp tunnels upward until they emerged behind a wall of thick bushes, creeping vines, and trees. Robbie pushed the wall aside to reveal a clearing, and right on the other side of that was a copse of trees. Glynnis blinked, seeing daylight for the first time in many hours, it was like a kiss from God on her skin. She moaned, raising her face to the sky.
“Oh, I never thought I would miss the sun so much,” she murmured. When Robbie didn’t respond, she dropped her head and looked at him. He was staring at her, his eyes bright yet dark, like a light shining from the midst of the deepest darkest pool.
She felt her belly flip even as his gaze dropped to her mouth. Aye, kiss me!
“Rose,” Saban’s voice grated, twisting Glynnis’s moment of bliss. “Head home and wait for word. You need to rest…you look like you ate bad mutton.” Though his words were clipped, Glynnis could see the concern on the man’s face. Aye, he was an uncaring, heartless bastard with her and Robbie, but he seemed to actually care for the others.
Rose, grumbling to herself, lifted her hand in acknowledgement but remained where she was standing, staring out over the ocean, stretching over the curve of the horizon.
“Eh, Saban,” Brendan called. “We will go on ahead, see what trouble we can stir up.” Brendan turned and began making his way through the trees with an ever-silent Lucian in his wake.
Their moment shattered by familial strife and tension, Glynnis pulled her hand from Robbie’s. Robbie took a step forward.
“Nay, not you,” Saban said, placing a halting hand against Robbie’s chest. “You have someone to see…both of you. Daid is waiting for you.” His gaze moved to Glynnis. “Take this, follow it.” Saban pulled a slip of paper from his sheath and handed it to Robbie. “There are two mounts there”—he pointed to a large oak where two horses stood, saddled and grazing.
Without another word, Saban turned and disappeared into the trees after Brendan and Lucian.
“Damn that man, he always has to have the last word,” Glynnis grumbled and Robbie chuckled. Her heart leaping, she let Robbie lead her to the oak tree.
Chapter Eleven
The slip of paper Saban had given them contained simple directions northwest. They rode on a single horse—Robbie couldn’t bear letting Glynnis ride alone, not when he could make their journey a…pleasant one. The directions took them over stretches of open land bordering the sea, over craggy hills made of stone blanketed in verdant grass and wind-blown wildflowers.
Finally, the reached their destination, sometime just after the sun passed the mid-point in the sky.
Robbie waited for Glynnis to dismount before he turned and stared at the building before them. The roof was tiled rather than thatched, and the walls were stone, held together by mortar. He’d taken care to build this home; it would last for generations.
The only door was thick oak, and it hung on iron hinges. The latch was also made of iron, but the sea air had begun to turn it a rust red.
“I will wait here,” Glynnis said, attempting to tuck her hair behind her ear even as the wind pulled at it, as if playing a game with her. “It is best for you to face him alone… I have little desire to see him again.” He could tell from her tone she would rather eat a live sea urchin than speak with Ioan, but she understood his need to put the past to rest…to know the truth so that his father could find peace. So he could find peace.
Robbie pulled her into his arms and kissed her, a soft kiss, one that spoke of gratitude. Though he’d only know her a short while…she’d become more to him that he could have ever fathomed. Just having her here with him, in that moment, gave him the strength he never knew he was missing. After another kiss, a deeper, lingering kiss, he released her and walked to the door. There was no need for words…she’d known his need of her; to come with him, to be there for him. And it was far more precious than any gold or jewel he could ever steal in his life.
Raising his hand, he rapped his knuckles against the door twice. He held his breath.
“Come,” a deep voice called from within. Robbie pressed the latch and pushed the door open. The hinges squeaked but moved easily. The interior of the cottage was dimmer than the full sun outside, but once his eyes adjusted, he could see well enough.
His heart pounding, he stepped through the doorway, ducking his head to avoid missing the low jamb. Inside, he let
out a slow breath, letting his gaze wander. The cottage was a single room, with a low cot along the left wall, a table and two chairs—well-made and somewhat delicate in appearance—along the right wall, and a large hearth complete with spit and pot hook, was set into the back wall. There was a man seated before the hearth, his wide shoulders slumped, his head ducked as if to hide his face.
“I am Robbie…Rees.” Speaking the name aloud, especially in relation to himself, was strange. He’d been a Bowlin all his life, had thought of himself as Ravishing Robbie Bowlin for most of his adult life, so now, to be Ravishing Robbie Rees…
Ravishing Rees…the perfect pirate moniker. Why that thought emerged, Robbie had no time to wonder about, because the man straightened and turned to look over his shoulder at him.
His eyes were a burning green, so like Robbie’s own, that it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand erect. If he’d had any doubt of the truth of his heritage, he didn’t now.
“I was told you would be coming,” the man said, his voice laden with resignation…and a drop of weariness.
As Robbie watched, the haggard man rose from beside the hearth, his rugged, sharp-angled face cast in dancing shadows from the low burning fire.
A gasp caught his attention, and his own gaze clashed with that of the man standing, staring at Robbie as if he’d seen a specter there before him.
“You have the look of her… Ilone… About the lips and nose. But…” He stopped, took a slow, shuddering breath. “You have the eyes and coloring of a Rees.”
Robbie couldn’t completely digest what the man said before the man, Ioan, took a step closer, then another, until he was just two feet from him. His face, though lined with age and care, was the face of a man who reminded him of his own father.
The truth was just feet away… He could no longer ignore what was so obvious.
“But how?” Robbie asked, his voice hollow. “If my grandmother was your wife, why did she go to Bowlin? Why was I denied my heritage for so long?”
The Ravishing Rees (Pirates of Britannia Book 10) Page 7