How could that be? Because I yearn for her constantly. To see her this way only shows me how much I want her submission for my own benefit.
“Roderick?” Her whisper, so tentative, revealed how afraid she was.
“What is it you need to say?”
“I have not tricked or swayed you, I promise you that. I healed Adam and I called upon the weather to hasten our journey, but that is all. What happened between you and me was purely borne of our passion for one another.”
Roderick gritted his teeth, casting his mind back. Then he shook his head. “What of those strange things you did when we were alone, and the way you were at the moment of your release? You lit up the cabin when there was no candle.”
Her head rolled against her arm, her soft, lush mouth turned down at the corners. “It is so hard to explain briefly, but in offering myself to you and sharing our passion, my magic grew stronger. That is what you saw.”
He jerked back. “So you were—”
“No!” Her very posture forbade him to think further on that path. “It happened, it empowered me, but it was not used as a tool against you, never.”
Oh, how he wanted to believe her. Had she really been as cold and calculating as Brady had suggested? Was their lovemaking part of a plan to bend him to her will? It trickled through his mind again, every strange thing she had done, every brazen suggestion and whispered word. “Why are you this way? Where did this magic come from if not from the devil himself?”
“It is in my lineage. We hail from the Highlands, where my kind live a life closer to nature than to any prescribed by a god. We cherish the lessons of the seasons and the elements, and we live by those lessons, not by laws passed by church or magistrate. The old magic that thrived in the hidden glens is passed down the line from mother to child. Like my kin, I have the ability to call on nature and to wield its powers...for good.”
Roderick frowned. It seemed fanciful. As a seafaring man he had a healthy respect for the elements. The rest was beyond him. She explained with such conviction, though, it was difficult not to believe in it. “You use these powers only for good?”
“Unless we are threatened, or...or if we are tricked into it.” She paused, and he saw how upset she was by that admission. Who tricked her? “I can defend myself by magic,” she continued, “but I choose not to. I want you to trust me because of the rest of me—what I say and how we are when we are together.”
That much was true, he was sure of it. If she could heal Adam’s hand and direct the wind, she could easily have averted this situation with her strange talents.
“You have never used your magic for gain, or to hurt anyone?”
She sighed and hung her head. It made him fear what she was about to say.
“Not knowingly. I was kept, in London, sheltered by a man who understood my craft, but I didn’t know he meant to use me as a tool. When I discovered his true intent, I fled.” She lifted her head. “And you aided my flight.”
That was why. It was not because she was being sought out by witch hunters. She had fled to escape a man who would use her. All this talk of laws of the natural world and the power of the elements as a life force, it dazzled his mind. He did not claim to be anything but a simple man, and yet he felt as if she believed it all. He knew he couldn’t trust her, for she had hidden so much of herself from him and he couldn’t identify the overriding emotion he felt in response to that. Was it anger, frustration or grief? All those things flitted through him. It left him torn between the need to cast her out, and to punish her for not revealing this secret nature to him earlier, so that he might have been prepared for it.
In that moment none of it mattered. Still he had to listen.
“This man, he had me create magic, but I didn’t know he would gain from it. I was innocent of his true nature. There may have been wrongdoings. It breaks my heart to think of it.”
He had to see her eyes in order to be sure of her honesty. He untied the blindfold, knowing even while he did that it might be a trap. “This man you speak of, is he the one who made you mistrust all men?”
She nodded. That solemn look was back in her eyes.
This bastard from London, whoever he was, had put it there. “Is he the one who wanted you for his own?”
“The same man, yes. But I didn’t want him, and because of that I found you, and you’ve been the best part of my life.”
“And you mine.” He trailed the back of his fingers down the soft curve of her cheek.
“You have spoiled me for other men. I know I’ll never find another lover like you.”
There were so many ways he wanted to reply to that, but he knew it would be wrong to make false promises. Reaching out, he allowed himself to touch her. With one hand around the back of her neck, he embraced her softness. If it was a mistake, he didn’t care anymore.
She moaned softly and turned her face to his arm and kissed it.
That simple touch made his reason trip and stumble, good sense flying from his mind. “You have me, my lady. God help me. You are like a siren calling to me, luring me to my end—”
“Never.”
It mattered not. He was hers. Embracing her, he lifted her from the floor as he kissed her, taking the weight from her arms.
The way she trembled against him, her body flexing in his arms, made him wonder if he would ever tire of this. Her kiss was every bit as hearty and passionate as his. Roderick reminded himself that her motives had been self-protection, nothing more. Learning that fact heaped scorn on the vague notion he had of making her his for much longer than this troubled journey. Roderick knew that whatever her thoughts on the matter, and her reasons for offering herself to him, he adored her. Her virginity had come in exchange for her passage to Scotland; she had not lied about that. But he also knew that she wouldn’t do such a thing without great deliberation. He’d learned that much about her.
Was there evil magic and twisted games at play? Did she have a black heart?
Even if it were all true, he still adored her.
He would aid her escape. She would be gone from him soon, gone to follow her mysterious path, and he would never regret this, despite the danger and the black looks in the eyes of his men. He could not regret it, because in his heart this was the woman he wanted to call his own. “I see it,” he whispered. “I see it all now. I understand your plight.”
“And you still want me?”
“Yes, fool that I am.”
Her head dropped back, and she gave a soft, wry laugh. “You’re not a fool. And I want you, too, Roderick Cameron. Even though you have me tied up down here like a criminal and you are willing to leave me alone in the dark with the rats. I cannot help myself. I want your embrace. Please hold me again.”
Was it a trick? She wanted to be held, and he knew he shouldn’t take the risk, but he moved his hands beneath the curve of her buttocks and hitched her higher against him, until she wrapped her legs around his hips. The swell of her breasts jiggled against his chest and he lowered his head to place a kiss upon the place where they bulged from her bodice.
He struggled to think, to breathe more evenly, but he could only act upon his desires.
Mine. Covering her open mouth with his, he kissed her again.
She moved her hips, beckoning to him, as willful in her lust as she had been the night before. He felt her heat and he was hard as a rock.
Urgently, he pushed her skirts up. She moved, tightening her grip on the rope above her head, her body opening toward him. He shifted his feet to a wider stance, ready to savor that moment when he thrust inside her, losing himself to her.
Her cheeks were flushed, her hair tousled and hanging over her face.
His cock ached for her. No denying this.
Holding her safely to him with one hand, he freed his cock.
Maisie pivoted, staring down.
His cock twitched in response.
Nudging the swollen head into her opening, he eased inside her, his blood pounding i
nside hers. Her hips were angled to take him in, her flesh melting onto his length.
“Your cunt is hotter than hell and sweeter than heaven,” he whispered, and thrust deeper still. His fingers locked around her bottom while he thrust home.
Maisie cried out, her head falling back. He held her locked in place, then moved his face into the curve of her neck, breathing her in. She felt so good, smelled so good.
She was wild with it, too, her hands twisting around the rope that bound her wrists while she pivoted her hips to his. Leaning back, her head lolling, her lips parted, she looked wanton—every bit the Jezebel the men had called her. A woman eager to be taken, eager to be pleasured. Roderick dug his fingers deeper into the gathered skirts, holding her hips while he rode in and out. The slick, tight grip she had on him was unbearably good, her channel slippery with her juices, her body embracing his shaft with each and every stride he made.
Having her so thoroughly bound and submissive and eager to be his prize led him to a new destiny, one where he knew beyond doubt that he would never forget this, and forever crave it. As the thought took hold at the back of his mind, he imagined having her like this again and again, and it made his cock reach even farther.
Maisie moaned loudly when the head of his cock was buried deep in her most tender spot. Roderick could scarcely bring himself to pause, but he did. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“Yes, no, but it is the sweetest pain I’ve ever felt and it makes me glad you have me this way.”
He could not bear it. “Hush, I cannot bear your words.”
He was close to losing his mind. Then her cunt tightened. She had him so deep. He felt the heat of her climax sucking at him. He tightened his hands on her hips and began to slam home. She cried out in ecstasy. And again. He was there. He thrust again.
Her head rolled back, her body clutching at him, over and over. She bit her lip between her teeth, but being quiet was beyond her, for she whimpered and moaned. Roderick felt his spine turn rigid, his sac riding high, the urge to let loose inside her building, pounding right there at the base of his spine.
“Let me feel you,” she pleaded. “Don’t pull free.”
Those words made it impossible for him to do anything else but loosen his seed within her, his release barreling through him. He could scarcely stay upright, but when he saw the rich, magical glow in her eyes, and her body undulating as she accepted his seed, it held him to the spot, for he was in awe. A witch she was.
He had loved a witch, and lived.
He stayed inside her as long as he could, his cock painfully sensitive to each flex and ripple her body made. When he kissed her, her lips parted under his, defying her captivity to share the pleasure a moment longer. In the aftermath, he clutched her close to him, unwilling to break with the moment, to address the problems that surrounded them.
Roderick craved her as he had craved nothing before, and it broke him apart inside to have to keep her this way. Kissing her face, he held her gently against him, cosseting her the only way he could.
He lowered her to the floor. “You are safer here.”
When she started to deny him he covered her lips with his fingers. “The men are unhappy, and when they get like this they are a law unto themselves. I would lay down my life to protect you, Maisie.” He paused when she shook her head, but it was true. “I would. Please don’t disbelieve me.”
“I don’t. I’ve always been able to tell you were honest with me. It is your men you have been vague with since I came aboard.”
Clarity shot through his mind, and he felt a queer pain when he realized how wily she was. Every bit as wily as the men said, in fact. And yet he still loved her. Yes, it was love, he did not deny that. He had fallen for a troublesome woman indeed.
“Then you will believe me when I say that I’ll ensure your safe delivery into Scotland, as I promised at the outset.” Forcing himself to draw back, he continued with caution. “I will come down to check on you often, and when we near the Tay estuary I will row you to land myself.”
“You said you would hand me over to the magistrate.”
He shook his head, then pulled his breeches into place, securing them. “No. That is for the men’s peace of mind. I will free you before that time.”
For a moment he cradled her cheek in his palm, and she turned her face, kissing his callused hand. Roderick braced himself. “I’ll ask this question once more, because it plagues me most. Tell me the truth now, were you weaving spells when we bedded together?”
“No. But I cannot deny our match made me stronger. It is the way of my kind. We ally ourselves to the natural world and the powers incarnate there. These are particularly powerful in the act of lovemaking.”
Roderick remembered the first time, how hot the cabin had become. It was not just a virgin becoming a woman, it was a witch riding high on the magic she felt.
“It was strong because we are a...a good match.” She bent her head, growing silent.
At first he thought she had become suddenly ashamed of her lusty ways, but then he realized she was thinking of something.
“I told you that I’d been split from my kin when my mother suffered a cruel and horrible death.”
“Yes.”
“She was called out as a witch.” Maisie’s voice broke on the words, her lower lip trembling. “Much as I was, up there.” She jerked her head toward the decks above.
Roderick could not stand it when tears spilled from her eyes. He felt her pain. Why he felt it so intensely baffled him, but he wanted to ease it. He held her jaw in his hands, lifting her face, and kissed each salty tear away. “Hush, you are safe. I will not let my men hurt you.”
“I know.” She nodded. “And I understand you must keep me here.”
When she looked at him, Roderick drew away. He did not trust his own promises, when she might yet try to escape him by magic.
Dragging a sack of root vegetables closer, he stationed it behind her so that she might sit upon it and make herself more comfortable. Then he went to retie the blindfold.
He paused when she whispered his name.
“Roderick...” She shook her head then, as if she’d thought better of what she’d been about to say.
“I must cover your eyes again and keep you bound. It isn’t because I want it that way, you know that. But if I don’t the men will suspect, and they will turn on us both. Bide your time and I will come to you and take you ashore by rowboat. I will set your feet on Scottish soil, just as I promised the night we met. That has not changed.”
“Oh, Roderick.” She hung her head. “Forgive me for being angry.”
“You were afraid.”
She nodded.
Roderick took one last look at her beautiful eyes, then covered them. He left the lantern where it was docked and headed for the door.
Before he stepped out he stared across at her, a tortured young woman, so slight, so feminine. Yet he had seen her power, and even though he believed she would not harm him, there was still so much he didn’t know about her. In the space of just a few days she had filled his mind, body and heart. That didn’t seem right, and he couldn’t shake the feeling it was just as the men had said, that he’d been blinded by her. That’s what women did, anchoring men to them, instead of to their own destiny.
As he looked over at her he had the strangest feeling he might never see her again, and it crossed his mind that she could vanish by magic. Would that be for the best? Maybe, but he couldn’t accept it.
As if she sensed his thoughts, she lifted her head. “I’ll never forget you, Roderick Cameron.”
“And I will never forget you, Maisie from Scotland.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Cyrus lay on his back, staring at the damp wooden beams above his bunk, resisting the urge to vent his frustration on his meager surroundings. He could happily smash the lone wooden chair into a thousand pieces, the wait was so intolerable. All night he’d lain there, arranging his thoughts in order of retribution
and justice, imagining how he would punish Margaret, and then bind her to him forever.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Enter.”
A uniformed soldier stood in the doorway. “Begging your pardon, sire, the captain has asked me to alert you. The ship we seek is within our sights.”
Cyrus was up and pulling his boots on before the man had even finished delivering his message. He followed the young soldier up on deck, thoroughly delighted that this moment had finally come. Out in the chilly morning air, he searched the skies. It was blustery and gray, scarcely dawn, and mist clung around the ship. He stepped quickly to the rail and looked beyond to where the various naval officers were focusing their attention. At first he saw nothing, and craned his neck. Then he saw it, a much smaller ship moving along the coastline in the distance.
At last. She was almost within his grasp. Not long now, and he would have her, and he would make her feel his wrath. The need to do so heightened his senses, invigorating him, making his pulse race.
A voice at his side drew him from his thoughts. It was Captain Plimpton. “I have issued orders to our sister ship. We idle here awhile, until everything is in place.” Plimpton smiled. “We will have some sport with these vermin.”
“Excellent,” Cyrus replied.
He trained his eyes on the distant boat, thinking of her, and his appetite for power sharpened.
* * *
Roderick didn’t sleep that night, nor could he rest in his cabin. Instead he remained at the helm, watching the night sky, waiting for dawn. His ability to ensure Maisie’s safety wasn’t worrying him, for he would simply tell the men he wanted rid of her, and take her to land. It was as if he was already mourning her departure, though.
How could it be? He was a man of the sea, and no woman had ever called to him this way. It wasn’t even as if she were a normal woman, a woman he could wed and set up in a harbor somewhere, a woman he could visit like Brady’s Yvonne in Lowestoft.
No, Maisie was something strange; he admitted that to himself, now that he’d had time to think on it. He’d known that first night that she wasn’t a lowly sort, but he’d never imagined she would be so thoroughly shrouded in secrets, nor that she practiced the forbidden craft. Now he saw the immensity of the risk he’d taken bringing her aboard. A woman was bad enough, a forbidden passenger, but her secret nature made her sex seem as nothing in the scale of danger he had courted.
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