Warrior Untamed (27 page)

“Once we reach Haven Castle, I’ll have a silversmith set it into something fancier and more permanent for you.”

Her eyes sparkled as her hand tightened around the flawed jewel. “I’m amazed you were able to retrieve this little gem. It’s perfect as it is, thank you. I’m only sorry I’ve nothing to give you. At least”—she grinned, nodding toward her brother—“nothing I can give you with him standing there, as he seems determined to do.”

“Ahem,” Jamesy said. “I can hear you quite clearly. I’ll thank you to save that sort of blether for after yer wedding, when I’m no forced to listen to it.”

“Who would have guessed my own brother would be such a maiden about this?” she asked with a chuckle.

“Have some control over yerself, lass!” Jamesy insisted. “We’ll deliver you to the chamber yer sharing with Mistress Syrie, where I’m sure you’ll be well looked after for the night. And then you and I, O’Donar, we’ve a none-too-patient group of men waiting for us in our laird’s solar.”

Jamesy claimed his sister’s good arm, forcing Hall to walk behind them as they made their way into the keep. Her annoying brother even inserted himself
between them as they said a chaste good night, and by the time Hall and Jamesy reached the laird’s solar, his desire to do harm to the other man was ceasing to be a joke.

“Here they are!” Chase called out, shoving a mug into Hall’s hand as they entered the crowded room. “I’d begun to wonder whether I should send out a search party. What took you so long?”

“I was only trying to speak with Bridget,” Hall explained, lifting the cup to his lips.

Whisky. Smooth and strong. Exactly what he needed to tamp down his frustrations this night.

“And speaking is all you’ll do with my sister until the wedding’s done and over,” Jamesy said, slapping Hall’s shoulder as he passed.

“Hey, I totally understand what you’re going through,” Chase commiserated, his gaze following Jamesy’s departing back. “Why do you think Christiana and I chose to marry as soon as possible? You think you have it bad? Christy has
two
brothers, and both of them were breathing down my neck.”

Hall smiled in spite of his irritation. Chase Noble, the brother of his heart, always had that effect on him.

“A toast,” Malcolm called out, raising his cup high in the air. “To a battle well ended with the aid of our newest kinsman.”

As the cups were lowered, Eric lifted his again. “To yer wedding on the morrow, O’Donar, a day that
equally marks the end of our troubles and the beginning of yers!”

“To Hall O’Donar and Brie MacCulloch,” Chase yelled over the laughter as the jug was passed around the room for refills. “May they live long and prosper.”

Chase ended his toast with a hearty laugh as if he’d thought of some private joke before draining his cup. “So, tomorrow the former Bridget MacCulloch will become Brie O’Donar and you, my brother, will have to come up with a naming gift, if I’m not mistaken. Have you decided on what you’ll give her yet?”

“A naming gift?”

The thought hadn’t crossed his mind, but Chase was absolutely correct. By their marriage he was giving Bridget a new name, and Thor demanded that a gift be exchanged.

By the gods. With less than twenty-four hours before they would wed, he could think of only one way to determine the perfect gift for the woman of his dreams.

He would have to ask her what she wanted and then, as he’d once sworn he would do, he would move heaven and earth to give it to her.

T
HIS
HAD TO
be the best idea any of those overbearing women had ever come up with.

Brie lifted one foot from the hot water in which she soaked and propped her heel on the edge of the big wooden tub. Tiny dust motes danced in the sunbeam that washed over her foot.

Steam, thick with the scent of mint and balm, eddied up around her like a warm, moist pillow.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so relaxed.

This latest “necessity” before her wedding was definitely an improvement over the ridiculously named hen party Lady Danielle had insisted on the night before. With not one single chicken in sight, she’d been forced to endure an evening of giggling women and their unending, unrequested, and completely unnecessary advice.

Not that she didn’t appreciate each and every one of them. She did. It was only that secreting herself away with Hall would have been a much more enjoyable way to spend her evening.

But this? This had turned out to be one watery little slice of heaven. Best of all, once they’d pampered, petted, and smothered her with herbs and soaps for her bath, they’d said farewell and left her gloriously alone.

Me-time,
Lady Dani had called it.

They’d be back all too soon, bearing bath sheets and the freshly altered dress she was to wear for her wedding, and all the babble and bustle would return with them.

A twinge of guilt stung her conscience. If she’d spoken her thoughts aloud, the world would surely have judged her an ungrateful wench. And rightly so. For all their efforts on her behalf, the ladies of Castle MacGahan were owed better than she’d given so far, and she vowed to do her best to join in their excitement over the dress and readying her for the ceremony. It was the least she could do, to thank them for all they’d done for her.

But right now, in this precious respite from their overly helpful ministrations, she would enjoy the peace and quiet of this delightful me-time.

Brie slid down in the tub, dunking her head under the fragrant water and emerging to brush back the hair from her face. Her locks, once so long and heavy, barely clung to her shoulders now, their bulk left behind at the bottom of the North Sea cliffs.

Jeanne had assured her they could dress her hair today so that no one would notice how short it was,
while Lady Dani had hinted that she might find she enjoyed having it shorter.

She reached for the soap, delighted to find it had an entirely different scent from all the other items in her bath. It smelled of something light and floral that made her feel feminine and dainty.

Not that she’d admit
that
to anyone.

She scrubbed the soap along her arm, realizing with a start that the markings Orabilis had painted there had all but disappeared in places. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to worry over her strange appearance embarrassing her new laird and husband after all.

“You sneaky old witch,” she said with a laugh.

Now,
there
was a woman who had a way of obscuring everything she said. It would make perfect sense to her if Orabilis were indeed a Faerie, as Hall had claimed.

Hall.

Just thinking of her groom sent shivers of delight coursing along her skin. That she would be joined with him for life by the time this day’s sun had set was almost beyond belief.

Everyone should have the chance to be as happy as she was today.

She’d just rested her head against the tub’s edge and closed her eyes when a light knock sounded at the door.

She stifled a groan of disappointment and reached for the washing cloth to give her some measure of modesty before the women once again descended.

“Come in,” she called as the door behind her creaked open, then said in her best cheery voice, “Have you brought the dress? I can hardly wait to see it.”

Two large hands clamped down on her shoulders and water splashed over the sides of the tub as she started forward.

“No dress, I fear,” Hall murmured, brushing his stubbled chin along the tender skin of her neck before stopping to nibble the lobe of her ear.

Had she thought herself in heaven before? She’d been wrong.

Her good sense almost deserted her completely when his hands slicked down her wet body to cover her breasts, his warm breath hitting the side of her face in rapid little pants.

What were the chances she could strip him bare, drag him into her bath, and have her way with him before the ladies returned?

Slim to none, the way her luck had been going. She hadn’t even been able to manage a kiss in the garden before her brother had arrived.

“We canna do this now, my love. Syrie will have herself one full-out Faerie fit if she finds you here like this.”

“I know,” he answered on a sigh, slowly moving his hands back up to her shoulders. “It’s not even why I came. But when I saw you thus, I couldn’t stop myself. Have you any idea how badly I want you every time I see you?”

She understood his need all too well.

He dipped his head and covered her mouth with a long, slow kiss. His tongue flickered across her lips and she turned in the tub, rising up on her knees, ready to take what she wanted, the ladies be damned.

“By Odin’s breath,” he whispered, tracing a finger down the side of her face, “we will finish this tonight, I so swear it. But for now, I need to speak to you.”

He rose to his feet and backed away, clear across the room, his face red as if with great exertion.

Or heat. Her own body felt hot enough to boil the bathwater.

“Then hurry up and speak yer piece before they return and find you here.”

The fog had lifted from her brain as he’d put distance between them, and a scene with the fiery-tempered Faerie was something she’d prefer to avoid.

“A few hours from now, we’ll wed and you’ll take my name for your own. For that, Thor requires that I give you a naming gift. You’ve but to tell me what you want. Your heart’s desire is what I would gift you.”

If this was any harbinger of things to come, her life was shaping up to be an unending series of surprises.

“You already gave me a gift. I have no need for anything else.”

His face broke into that most wonderful smile, and she very nearly climbed from the tub and went after him.

“Need is not a consideration, my love. The name change requires it, to honor Thor. It is the custom of my people and I cannot ignore it.”

“With you to be my husband, I canna think of anything more in the whole of the world that I want. Unless . . . a dog, mayhap? I’ve considered one after seeing the kind beastie that travels with Finn. The two of them do seem to get on happily enough.”

“A dog?” Hall’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “That’s it? That’s the greatest desire of your heart? I offer you anything in all the world, and you’d ask for a dog?”

“Well, it’s the only
thing
I can think of. If I could choose my heart’s desire, though—if I had that sort of Magic at my disposal—I would wish that Jamesy might find the one person who would make him as happy as you’ve made me.”

“So be it, my beloved. Consider it done.”

The smile returned to his face, and she would have climbed out of the tub this time but for the door opening wide.

“What is this?” Syrie demanded, glaring at Hall. “Can I not trust you even for the length of time it takes your lady to bathe? Don’t you have things you need to be doing to get yourself ready? What are you doing in here?”

Brie was amazed that the tirade could go so long without the woman seeming to need to stop for a breath, but Hall took the scolding in stride. If anything, his smile was even broader by the time Syrie paused.

“I came here looking for you, Elf. These are your chambers, are they not?”

“Faerie,” she muttered, her eyes flashing as she crossed to the bed to drop the armload of fabric she held. “And what business, pray tell, could you possibly have with me?”

“I’d ask that you join me in the garden for a short talk.”

“No.” Syrie busied herself shaking out the dress from the drying sheets. “Can you not see I’m busy here? I haven’t time for a talk. Say what you need to say now and have it done.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot speak in front of her.” Hall tilted his head in Brie’s direction. “I need your help with a surprise to make this day special for my bride.”

Syrie’s lips pressed together, and Brie knew the woman would give in. If all Faeries were such romantics as this woman, Wyddecol must be a most fantastic place.

With a sigh of annoyance, Syrie tossed a drying blanket to the floor next to the tub and headed for the door. “Very well, Northman. For Brie’s special day, and no other reason. And as for you, I expect
you out and dried off by the time I return,” she told Brie as she followed Hall outside.

With the door again closed, Brie slid back down into the water to steal a few more glorious moments, her mind filled with names for the dog Hall was no doubt on his way to get for her right now.

A
LL RIGHT, OUT
with it. What do you want of me?”

Syrie waited, hands on her hips, and though she tried to look angry, Hall knew he’d hooked her when he’d told her he wanted her help for Bridget’s benefit. Since what he planned to ask her to do should be something she’d be happy to do, it was all smooth sailing from here.

Then again, he could never be sure when it came to the Fae. Just in case he’d read her wrong, he positioned himself at the opening of the walled garden to prevent any hasty departure she might attempt.

“With our wedding today, I give Bridget a new name. If I’m to honor Thor and keep him happy, I need a naming gift for my bride.”

And considering the havoc he’d just caused in destroying Fenrir and the scrolls, he couldn’t afford to skip any step that might keep his grandfather happy.

“Again, Northman, what do you want of me?”

“I wish to give my new wife her heart’s desire. As it so happens, her heart’s desire is to have her
brother as happy as she is. I come to you to ask that you make that happen by finding Jamesy’s SoulMate and reuniting them.”

Watching the Faerie flounder for words, Hall wanted to remember this moment forever. The Fae were never caught without something to say.

“I . . . I . . .” she stuttered, her arms moving from her hips to cross protectively in front of her. “I cannot. What you ask is beyond my ability to give you. You’ll have to find another gift.”

She wasn’t telling the truth, and he had no intention of letting her off the hook so easily. After all, he’d sworn to move heaven and earth to give Bridget her heart’s desire. One small Faerie was not going to stand in his way.