“What’s going on?” Kyla fisted his tunic from behind.
“Wait a moment.” He plucked an arrow that had pinned his leather pant leg to the hull, snapped it in two and tossed it before heaving out from under the bench and onto his haunches. At the sea-gate, two birlinns loaded with men sunk lower into the water and shouts echoed. Chaos reigned and Jeremiah’s warriors bounded back onto the landing.
“I cannae wait any longer.” Kyla scrambled out and peered around him. “Why isn’t Jeremiah making chase?”
“Duncan had a couple of our men loosen a few very importantly placed planks on their birlinns just afore I dove into the tunnel to come to you, at Hamish’s insistence. ’Twas all Hamish had ‘seen,’ so we acted on it.” He chuckled, his relief immense, the seer’s aid exactly what they’d needed. “Jeremiah will have to effect repairs otherwise sink to the bottom of the bay. Chasing us now is impossible.”
“Oh, that’s so very clever.” She bounced about and laughed. “Come out, Fiona. All is clear.”
The lass with red hair plastered to her head beamed as she crawled out and skipped in a circle around them. “I cannae believe we’re free.”
“Aye, and never to return to Rhue again.” Kyla grasped Fiona’s hands and danced with her.
“I must thank Duncan as well.” Fiona giggled and dashed down the aisle.
“As I must thank you.” Cheeks pink and blue eyes bubbling with life, his chosen one wrapped her arms around his neck and swayed against him. “Of which there are so many ways I wish to do so.”
“And as I certainly wish to be thanked.” He took her with him as he sat on the rear seat, tucked her securely on his lap and kissed her until he had no breath left in him.
“Oh my,” Kyla panted against his lips. “I adore your kisses.”
“I love you.” He snatched the tartan that had fallen from her and tucked it more securely around her, tipped her chin up and kissed her all over again. Holding her close, his heart lifted and soared free.
“I love you too, Ronan Matheson.” She snuck one hand under the hem of his damp blue tunic and with wandering fingers, trailed over his thumping heartbeat and the hard planes of his belly.
“You’re my heart, the other half of my soul, my everything and all.” He rocked her in his arms, closed his eyes and reveled in the moment, his chosen one snuggled deep within his mind and her presence bringing such peace to his very soul.
Chapter 8
Waves slapped against the galley’s sides and the boat rocked and dipped, the movement and sound pulling Kyla toward wakefulness, a very good and contented wakefulness. Held protectively in her mate’s arms throughout the night, she’d fallen asleep and nowhere else did she long to be other than right here with him.
“Go back to sleep.” His voice floated over her, his lips brushing her cheek and his body surrounding hers. “Sleep.”
“I’m no longer tired.” Stretching, she wriggled upright and pushed her eyes open. The skies had lightened, the night having fallen away and the new day’s rising sun glimmered along the horizon. Beautiful pinks and yellows speared bright through the pale blue. Scotland’s rugged western coastline lay to their left while to their right the blue-green waters held a long line of land rising from it. The northernmost tip of the Isle of Skye. “We’re almost halfway home. We’ve made good time.”
“Aye, that we have, and with no sign of Jeremiah.”
“Even better.” Grinning, she surveyed those on deck. Her MacKenzie clansmen sat on the seats, the odd one snoozing across a bench, while above them the square sail was pulled taut by the brisk breeze. She cupped Ronan’s stubbly jaw and he lifted his face to the wind and eyes closed, breathed deep. She did the same, taking in Scotland’s freshest air and the scent of pure freedom. Aye, that freedom was now all hers, as well as Fiona’s.
“Red Point lies ahead. To shore we go!” Duncan stood at the bow and winked at her, his dark hair blowing in the wind as he stood in command of his vessel. Her brother loved sailing these seas, had always been more at home on the water than he’d ever been on the land. “We’ll stretch our legs, eat, and catch a few hours’ rest. Sound good, little sister?”
“Oh, aye.” She’d dearly love the reprieve from being at sea, that’s if she could secure some adequate clothing rather than just this borrowed tunic from Cedric. Halfway up the aisle, Fiona sat clothed in baggy brown breeches tightened around her waist with a leather belt and a billowy white shirt overtop. Borrowed clothes from one of the men.
“Are you hungry?” Kisses feathered over her brow.
“Mmm, very hungry.” Bottom snug in Ronan’s groin, she nuzzled into the small V at the neckline of his blue tunic now dried by the wind. She nipped his skin, the taste of him completely intoxicating.