Page 66 of The Highlander's Pirate Bride

“I see nothing that would hint of trouble.” She pointed to the south at three fishing boats returning to port.

“Wait…” Maxwell pointed in the same southerly direction. “…there’s another boat close to those three, only it’s turning to the east, nae keeping company with the others.”

They hastened down the steps and along the boat-landing to meet with Ranald Dunbar once again.

“Can ye signal tae those three boats entering the bay. I wish tae speak with the men.”

Dunbar sent up a signal flag and before long the men were pulling their boats into the jetty, where Maxwell and Ranald hastened to meet with them.

All three men shook their heads when asked about the fourth boat that had turned away and was sailing east.

“I dinnae ken the lad.” One big lad who gave his name as Simon, scratched his head, looking puzzled.

“Nay. He wasnae wi’ us.” Another older man was very definite that the boat did not belong with them.

“He seemed to be patrolling the coast,” added the third fisherman. “I saw him early on, then lost sight of him after he sailed further round the island. “I didnae take him fer a fisher-lad, although he had that appearance at first. I was near enough at one time to see he had nay net on board.”

Ranald looked at Maxwell, nodding. “Mayhap ‘tis one of Sutherland’s men.”

“Thank ye, lads.” Maxwell gave each of the fishermen coin for their trouble. “If ye see him or another of his kind at any time please let Ranald Dunbar here ken.” He was loath to tell them the man could be a scout and an enemy for fear of causing rumors to spread but he decided it was better that they knew.

“We may have enemies nearby. ‘Tis best tae say little, but mayhap ye could pass the word tae others who sail, tae keep an eye out fer strangers.”

The three men nodded and went on their way, pocketing their coins.

“Seems we are being watched. That will put paid tae our chances of gathering a fleet tae hunt fer Everard without being noticed.”

Aileen grew thoughtful. “’Tis nae surprise. Sutherland will be expecting it.”

As they re-entered the keep, Aileen reached for Maxwell’s hand. “I fear the peace of this sanctuary is under threat.”

Maxwell wound an arm around her waist. “Dinnae fash, Aileen. We dinnae ken thats is so. We must wait until Dunbar’s messengers return before we can say fer certain that Sutherland has pursued us here.”

The fear he could see so clearly in her eyes told him she had no belief in his soothing words.

He leaned in, nuzzling a series of soft kisses in her hair. “Ye are very fetching in yer pretty gown wi’ yer hair flowing free like this.” He took a lock of her hair in his hand and held it to his lips. “Aileen MacAlpin, ye’re a real beauty, and ye’ve been keeping it from me these past weeks.”

She gave a mock punch to his hefty, muscled arm.

“Oof.” He grabbed his arm, howling in mock pain. “Why, ye’re a cruel vixen as well as a sorceress. Didnae ye nae ken yer spell was enough to keep me docile, without ye resorting to such violence?”

She laughed. “Ye, docile? That will be the day when the pigs are flying above the castle.”

He pulled her close. “Then, kiss me, ye wild and wicked enchantress. Fer I’m fair hungering fer ye and I can hardly wait tae take off that gown and see ye naked.”

He laughed again at her cheeks blushing red as they walked along the passageway to the door of her chamber.

She placed a hand on the door-latch. “D’ye wish tae join me, milord?”

Without a word Maxwell unlatched the door, kicked it open and swung her into his arms. Stepping into the chamber, he carried her to the bed in the center of the room. He lowered her slowly, so that her bright mane of hair sprayed across the pillow.

He laughed. “Methinks this is the best place fer all that I wish tae dae tae ye.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Aileen turned to liquid in the heaven of Maxwell’s arms. Her gaze took in every speck of his face as he leaned over her; from the tendrils of soot-black hair skimming his cheeks, his blue eyes with their long, dark lashes, the straight nose, the strong jawline with its stubbled beard, and the lips she’d been dreaming of forever.

What she saw in his steady gaze and the pale blue eyes turning midnight-dark as they roved over her, told her without a shadow of doubt he was hers. Just as she belonged, body and soul, to him.

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