Captured by the Pirate Laird (30 page)

Calum
circled, every nerve alive. He lifted his chin and inclined his head, inviting
the murderer to make the first move.

Denton
chuckled and slithered around him. “Well, well. I’ll take pleasure in finishing
the job now.”

Calum
wanted to bellow and charge in for a fast kill, but the calculating glint in Denton’s
eye gave him pause. That was exactly what the executioner wanted him to do. He
circled, waiting for the bastard to make the first move. Calum caught a flicker
in Denton’s eye—a warning. He tensed, anticipating the blow. Denton lunged,
going for his gut. Calum darted to the side and defended the strike with a
resounding clang.

Denton
wielded his weapon with expert cunning and finesse. Calum adjusted to the lighter
cutlass in his hand. Though easier to wield, it forced him closer to his
opponent. Calum liked it. He needed to fight close to ensure a lethal cut. With
each swing of the cutlass, he followed with a swipe of his sword.

Denton
fought like a scoundrel, darting in for quick slashes with his blade and
spinning away before Calum could sink his weapon into his heart.

Again,
Denton lunged. Calum deflected and swung up his cutlass. Denton spun. The blade
caught the henchman’s side and blood spewed across the floor. Heaving, Denton
circled, holding his sword out, narrowing his gaze. With a sudden charge, he
roared, “Die, you Highland bastard!”

***

Violently
shaking in her wet clothes, Anne peered over the driftwood log. Norman and Ruairi’s
men stood at the surf, cutting down English sailors as they dragged themselves
from the frigid water.

A
large man pulled himself ashore and leaned forward, his hands on his knees,
heaving and straining for air. Ruairi ran toward him, sword held high.

“No!”
Anne leapt from behind her hideout and raced toward Calum’s brother.

Straightening,
Rorie drew his claymore and bellowed. “I’m a bloody Douglas, ye crazy Scot.”

Ruairi
skidded and jerked his sword back. “Well, why didna ye say so in the first
place?”

“’Tis
good to see ye too, MacLeod.” Rorie chuckled.

Anne
raced in and pointed toward the castle. “Rorie! Calum’s defending the keep. We
must fight.”

Her
gaze snapped to Ruairi. He nodded at the Douglas chief. “Ye go. I’ll hold the
beach.”

Rorie
grinned. One-by-one his guardsmen emerged from the surf. He pointed his
claymore to the castle. “There are English to fight, lads. Arm yerselves.”

“This
way,” Anne yelled over the pounding surf.

Anne
charged up the hill, running faster than she ever had in her life. She gasped
when they found the burnt-out shell of the gate, but charged forward. English
soldiers lay scattered in the courtyard, skewered by arrows.

Rorie
and his men pushed ahead of her and filed into the great hall. Anne took in a
deep breath at the sound of sword fighting within. She stepped up to the
threshold and craned her neck. Calum swung his sword with force, embroiled in a
fierce fight with that black-haired monster, Denton. Both men were bleeding.
Calum’s pale face was drawn, his eyes dark, and chords jutted from his neck
with each swing of his blade.

Denton’s
black hair flicked with every sharp move. He looked like a viper darting in for
his attacks and slipping away from Calum’s strikes. That man had to be the blackguard
who stretched Calum on the rack. Anne’s insides twisted with each blow, her
gaze darting across the scene seeking an opportunity to help.

Hugging
the wall, Anne scooted toward the two men. She had no idea what she would do,
but she needed to be close to Calum. She reached for her dirk, but before her
fingers brushed the basket weave hilt, an arm slipped around her waist and
yanked her back toward the massive double doors.

Anne
screamed.

“Shut
up, whore.”

She
froze.

Wharton
jerked her against his chest and hauled her into the darkness.

***

Distracted
by Anne’s shrill scream, Calum looked away for a split second. Denton’s blade
slashed open his shirt with a stinging cut. A wee bit closer and Calum would
have been dead. Infused with rage, he eyed his target. Denton circled, barking
out a callous laugh. The bastard thought he’d made a mortal wound.

Calum
knew better and turned in place, waiting for Denton to make his move. Denton
raised his sword. Seeing his chance, Calum spun into him, swinging the cutlass.
With an earthshaking roar, he sliced through Denton’s neck. The henchman’s head
bowled across the floor. Denton’s body stood stiff for a moment and then his
knees buckled and he crashed to the ground.

Calum
raced out the door and through the outer bailey gates. He’d glimpsed Wharton.
The bastard must already have Anne halfway to the beach. Ruairi and his men
still fought in the surf. To the south, a lone skiff waited tucked against the
cliff, away from the fighting.

Calum
tore after them, heedless of his injuries. He leapt across the brush to cut off
the corners of the zigzagging path. Anne’s cries vibrated in his ears.
There!
Wharton struggled to control her
as she twisted and fought to get away.

With
one more leg to go to the beach, Calum’s mind clicked and he jumped over the
rocky crag and skidded feet away from the boat. “Stop!”

Wharton
tossed Anne into the skiff and whipped around. Snatching a dagger from his belt,
he held it steady. “Stay back.” He kept his eyes on Calum as he shoved the
skiff into the water.

Calum
charged in with the cutlass held high. Wharton dove aside and caught Calum by
the waist. Falling, the two men crashed to the stones. Calum’s hand smashed
against a rock and his sword flew from his grip. Wharton’s weight crushed his
chest. Calum swung his fist into the baron’s temple. The big man reached up
with his knife. Calum caught his arm, the blade inches from his face. Locked in
a battle of raw strength, Calum stared at the knife. His hands trembled with
the pressure, his face stretched as he fought with everything he had left.

Wharton
crushed his barrel chest over him. Calum could hardly breathe. He tried to
shove the baron away with his trapped shoulder and shook with the strain,
muscle against muscle.

Suddenly,
Wharton arched up and bellowed like a skewered bull. His eyes bulged and blood oozed
from his mouth. The knife slid from his hand. His body dropped forward and
pinned Calum with dead weight.

With
a disgusted grunt, Calum threw Wharton off and scrambled out from under the
beast. Anne stood behind him, her hands bloodied and shaking. Her stunned eyes
drifted to the dirk in Wharton’s back.

God
bless her, she’d killed him.

Calum
opened his arms and Anne fell into them. Her body trembled with panicked gasps.
But she was warm and
alive
. His chest
fluttered with relief, He brushed his lips over her forehead and clutched her
to his chest.

“’Tis
over lass.”

“I-I
killed him.”

Calum
knew the mortification she’d feel at having taken a human life. Anne would be
numb and she would never forget it, but in time she would reconcile herself to
the fact she’d done it to save him.

“Ye
saved me life.”

She
lifted her chin. “You saved
my
life
as well.”

Cradling
her in his arms, he bowed his head and covered her mouth with deep, searing,
wonderfully satisfying kiss.

By
the time Calum and Anne arrived at the great hall, the fighting had ended. The
cold from his wet clothing chilled Calum to the bone and he’d begun to feel
ever cut and bruise he’d acquired this night. The others would be sore and freezing
as well. Rorie and his men had started to cleaning up the carnage. Calum didn’t
want to release Anne from his grasp, but he set her down to meet her new friend.

Anne
made the introductions. “Rorie found me half starved, hiding in his burnt out
keep.”

The
older Scot shrugged. “I couldna just leave her there and the lass was hell bent
on finding ye—Could speak of nothing else.”

Calum
examined Anne, his expression dubious. “Ye escaped on yer own?”

Shivering,
she still blushed. “Yes.”

Calum
stepped forward and shook Rorie’s hand. “Thank you, Douglas. Ye’ll find food in
the kitchen and there’s plenty of room to bed down along with fresh hay in the
stable loft.”

Calum
gazed at Anne who stood with her back to the wall, shivering, her cotton shirt
plastered to her body. If her breasts had not been bound, she would have
appeared completely naked under the thin cloth.

He
reached for her hand. “Ye must slip out of yer wet clothes.”

“There
is so much work to be done. We’ve got to put the hall back to rights.”

“Aye,
and it will still be here on the morrow. We’re all tired, lass.”

Calum
lifted her into his arms and climbed the stairs to his chamber—the laird’s
chamber still filled with her trunks. He turned the lock in the door and gently
set her on the chair. “I’ll light the fire to warm yer bones.”

Anne
nodded, her teeth chattering. When the flames from the peat leapt to life,
Calum turned and faced her. Her lips blue, she sat with a distant look, clutching
her arms against her body. He reached for her hands. “Come here.” He pulled her
up, wrapped her in his embrace and rubbed the cold from her shoulders.

“I
feel like I’ve been punched right in my stomach.”

“I
ken, lass.” He brushed his lips across her forehead. “Ye’ve had a terrible
ordeal.”

Anne
took a step back, steepled her hands to her lips and closed her eyes. Calum
stepped toward her, but she dropped to her knees.

“Anne?”

“No.
Stay where you are.” Her face strained against a grimacing pain. Was she
injured? Calum took another step, but Anne held up her hand. She raised her
long lashes revealing fathomless tormented pools of blue. Calum fought his urge
to scoop her into his arms. Twice she’d told him to stay back.

“What
is it, my love?”

Anne
furrowed her brow. “Love?”

Calum
reached out his arms.

Anne
shook her head and crossed her hands over her chest. Tears burst from her
anguished eyes and streamed down her cheeks. “I must first beg for your
forgiveness, my lord.”

Calum
stared. She wanted him to forgive her? For what? She crouched into a ball and
held her hands to her face, wailing and rocking as if life was ending. Calum
dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her. “Anne. There is nothing
to forgive.”

“I
gave away the keep.”

“Ye
did it to save me.”

“I
saw the venom in your eyes. I-I never meant to bring war to Raasay. I-it’s all
m-my fault.” She curled tighter into her ball, her anguished cries wracking her
slim frame.

Calum
scooped her into his arms and pulled her into his lap. “I forgive ye, Anne. I
love ye with all my heart and soul. I would have done the same thing if it had
been you.”

Every
sinew in her body tensed and she muffled her wails against his chest as she
leaned into him. Her warm tears dribbled down his skin and he held her tighter,
rocking gently. Calum’s heart wrenched with her pain. He pressed his lips
against her forehead and squeezed his eyes shut—rocking.

The
tension of her body eased and her sobbing ebbed into staccato breaths. The peat
fire began to warm them.

“The
English would have come sooner or later, Anne.” He raised her chin with his
finger. His lips wandered across her forehead, her eyelids, her cheekbones, her
chin. “Did ye hear me? I love ye.”

Calum
closed his eyes and covered her lips with his. Gently, he teased open her
silken mouth. He took his time—every gesture long, slow, deliberate. He wanted
her to feel the love that had tortured him day and night since first time he
laid eyes on her.

As
he pulled away, her eyes opened wide and filled with wonder. “I love you too.
With all my heart.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. “I-I
jumped out the window at Carlisle. I had to find you. Rorie helped me…”

Calum
put his finger to her lips. “Ye can tell me all about it in the morning. But first
we need to get ye dry.”

They
stood, and Calum took a moment to light every candle in the room. This time he
wanted nothing left to his imagination.

Moving
before her, he grasped the hem of her shirt. “May I?”

Anne
held her arms over her head.

Calum
peeled the wet cloth from her body and cast it aside. He tried not to ogle the
creamy skin of her naked belly, glowing amber in the firelight. Kneeling down,
he removed her boots and stockings. He craned his neck, met her gaze and then stood
and placed his hand on the edge of the cloth that bound her breasts. Anne
shuddered. Heat spread through his midriff.

“Are
ye all right?” he asked.

Without
a hint of fear in her eyes, she held her arms out to her sides.

Calum
took her cue and unfastened the knot. Three times the cloth wrapped around her
body. When all but the final layer remained, the pink buds of her breasts
stretched against the linen. His mouth went dry and he pulled away the cloth.

Milky
white, far more beautiful in the candlelight, her breasts sprang from the
bindings and stood proud. Her nipples pointed at him, demanding he suckle them.
He cupped his hands over her breasts and looked to her eyes for her consent.
Her tongue slipped across her upper lip.

Calum’s
cock strained against his kilt. He lowered his head and brushed his lips over
the top of her breast. With feathery kisses, he took a pink bud in his mouth
and teased it with his lips and teeth. With a guttural moan, Anne threw her
head back and thrust her hips forward

“I’ve
wanted this, wanted to love you like a woman loves a man. Fully.”

“And
I you.” Calum teased her with his mouth until Anne’s grasped his head and
brought him to her lips. She kissed him, her tongue searching his mouth as if
desperately seeking something she could not find.

Calum
matched her vigor and inhaled her sweet scent. Anne’s fingers fumbled with the
laces on Calum’s shirt. He raised his head, ripped it over his head and cast it
aside.

Anne
gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth. “My God. You have so many cuts.
You’re still bleeding.”

He
chuckled. He had no mortal wounds, and no wee scrape would keep him from his
beloved this night. “Ye can tend me in the morning.”

Licking
her lips, she nodded. He released his belt and it clattered to the floor, along
with his kilt.

Anne
sucked in a sharp inhale. “Oh, my...you are beautiful…it is…”

Calum’s
manhood jutted from his loins, a testament of how deeply he loved her…how much
he must have her in this moment. He stepped forward. “I’ll not hurt ye.”

Anne
reached out her hands. “You are the most fascinating sight I have ever seen.”
She stepped into him. “I want to touch you—show the depths of my love for you.”

Calum
gave a slow nod and she wrapped her fingers around his cock and stroked. His
eyes rolled back and he groaned with pleasure—he knew he would not last long,
not this time. He reached for her lithe hands and stopped her. “We must go
slow. Me blood is too hot to toy with it much.”

When
Anne fumbled with the laces on her trews, Calum interceded and pulled the
leather thong. “Let me.” Anne watched him with her lips parted as he loosened
the laces and slid the trews from her hips. He drew in a breath of air as they
slid down far enough to reveal the blonde curls that protected her most
intimate secrets. Blonde—he hadn’t seen her color in the dark.

Calum
tried to breathe as the musky floral bouquet of her sex floated to him. A pearl
of moisture wet the tip of his manhood and he shuddered. He stood and embraced
her, pressing himself against her belly. Anne’s breasts brushed the cut Denton
had sliced through his chest. Calum drew in a sharp breath. She pulled back.
His red blood contrasted with her silken skin.

She
gasped. “You’re hurt.”

“’Tis
only a scratch.”

“I
should tend it.”

“Ye
have a lifetime to tend me, but now I need to bed you.”

Anne’s
smile had no dimples this time. She looked like a woman filled with desire,
determined to make her conquest. He lifted her with ease and placed her on the
bed. Kneeling over her, his ran his tongue everywhere.

Anne’s
slender hands ran across his skin, igniting a flame wherever they touched. “I
want you to love me like a man loves a wife.”

Calum
stared into her half-cast eyes. “It will hurt yer first time.” Something
clicked in the back of his mind. She had been with Wharton—she may already have
be…

“I
want it. I want you.”

It
didn’t matter. Wharton didn’t matter.

She
licked her lips, looking at him as a woman gazes at her man, and yet wonder
brightened her face. Her innocent eyes slipped to his cock and her breath stuttered.
Yes. She remained pure. He would see to her pleasure first, make sure her sex
wept for him. Calum placed his mouth over hers and kissed her, showed her how
deeply his love stirred. He swirled his fingers around her breast and then trailed
down past her navel and through those glorious blonde curls. She shuddered, her
thighs quivering as he held his hand above the button he knew would send her
wild.

“Open
yer legs for me.” He ran his tongue along her neck, and she obeyed. He slipped
his finger further and touched her. Anne arched and cried out. He watched her
come undone. He slid his fingers down to her opening and pushed inside. His
cock surged at her wetness. She was ready for him.

But
he would not take her so quickly. He crouched on his knees and spread her legs
wider. “I want to taste ye.”

Anne
lifted her head, panting. “What?”

“Lie
back and let me love you.”

Calum
flicked out his tongue and Anne gasped. He swirled it around her tiny nub and
slid his finger into her. She clasped his head and again arched her back. Her
hips moved with his rhythm. Calum knew she was about to burst with her release.
He closed his eyes and kept the pace, while his cock strained with a sizzling need
to be inside her.

Anne
wrapped her legs around his shoulders and cried out. She thrust her hips up against
his tongue. Her body went rigid, everything wound taut followed by an
earth-shattering gasp. Breathing as if she’d sprinted up a flight of stairs, Anne
sank into the pillows, wonder spreading across her face.

She
reached for him. “I never thought it could be better than the night in the
wood.”

Calum
rose to his knees and showed her his rock hard erection. “It will be even
better, me love.”

Her
lips parted as she stared at him. She reached out her hand and stroked him with
silken fingers. “I want to please you. Show me how.”

“Lay
back.”

Calum
held himself up between her legs and kissed her. He brushed his cock along her
exposed, swollen womanhood. She was so wet and hot, he nearly exploded. He indulged
himself for a few moments, fondling her breasts and suckling her until her
breathing sped and her hips swayed against him.

Back
in control, he lowered his hips and moved his cock to her opening. “Are ye
ready?”

Anne
rubbed her hips against him and nodded. Her eyes darkened with love, her parted
lips red with passion, he could wait no longer.

He
slipped inside and held still, biting his lip.

“Calum.”

“Guide
me in so I’ll not hurt ye.”

Anne
sank her lithe fingers into his buttocks and pulled. She let out a sharp gasp
and slid him down the length of her. Hot woman milked him, surrounded him,
tight and wet. Anne strengthened her grip and moved her hips. Arching her back,
her moans came rapid and swift, sending him into a maelstrom of driving need.
Calum could hold back no more. He drove his cock into her again and again, the
tight rippling of her inner walls taking him beyond the point of ecstasy. Throwing
back his head, Calum roared with his release.

Anne’s
hips met his thrusts. As Calum exploded, Anne arched up and cried out.

Panting,
he rested on his elbows and gazed into the dark pools of her eyes, so clear, he
could glimpse into her soul. “I love ye with every thread of my being.”