Captured by the Pirate Laird by Amy Jarecki Read Free Book Online Page B

handsome than the last. Her heart fluttered. She clasped
her hand over it to quash her reaction.
    He
clutched her coronet with both hands. Anne took a step toward him and blinked
rapidly, the heat of her cheeks being the only warmth she’d felt that morning.
She broke the tension by glancing down at her wayward headdress and held out
her hand.
    He
casually handed it to her. “’Tis a bit too dainty for a ship’s deck. Ye need a
woolen bonnet in these waters.”
    “Unfortunately,
I didn’t anticipate a detour to the Hebrides when I packed.”
    He
leaned against the rail with a hand on his hip. “We mean ye no harm.”
    “No?”
Anne rubbed her upper arms. “And just how long will I suffer your hospitality? ”
    “No
longer than necessary—a month, mayhap two.”
    “I
did not ask for this,” she said through clenched teeth.
    “Nor
did I, but you’re here just like that cold wind that’s cutting through yer
dress.” His eyes trailed down the length of it and back up again. “We have
naught but to make the most of things.”
    A
fireball ignited in the pit of Anne’s stomach, flaring and melting away the
cold. He looked at her with eyes an intensity that took her breath away. No man
had ever made her insides sizzle and ache—as if he were the devil himself. Calum
was a rake, a thief, and there was every possibility he would hang for his
crimes. She would die if he ever discovered the effect he had on her
sensibilities. She must cling to her resolve.
    She
twisted the headpiece in her hands. “How long do you think you can carry on,
plundering Her Majesty’s ships before you meet your end?”
    His
face turned dark and he stepped toward her. “Ye do have a quick tongue for a
noble lassie.” Anne inhaled—sea salt, musk and danger. He leaned in, his lips
an inch from her ear. “I like that.”
    With
a gasp, Anne faced him. From the flash of the gold flecks in his eyes, she knew
she’d hit a nerve with her terse remark, but she wouldn’t allow him to think
he’d charmed her with his devilish smile and powerful shoulders.
    “Rounding
Raasay, Captain,” John called from the deck above.
    Calum
rolled his arm in an exaggerated bow. “Lady Anne.” He marched up to the quarterdeck
leaving her alone at the rail.
    Bran
skittered past. “Come, milady. Ye’ll have a better view from the forecastle.”
    Bran
tugged on her hand and led her forward up the steps to the bow of the ship. He
ran to the forward rail and beckoned her with a wave of his arm. “There she
is—Raasay.”
    The
island loomed like a dark shadow wedged between the shores of the Scottish
mainland and the Isle of Skye. Spindly birch trees jutted up between the rocks,
bent as if old before their time. As the ship sailed south, the terrain became lusher
with bracken ferns shaded by healthier trees than she’d seen to the north.
Ahead, verdant pastureland touched the shore of a beach covered with layers of
smooth stone.
    Bran
pointed. “There it is—Brochel Castle.”
    Sitting
atop a stony crag, the fortress walls extended skyward. Outer baily walls surrounded
a single square donjon tower that peaked above a ring of mist, as if separated
from the earth. Anne spotted guards between the crenel notches. A bell sounded,
and the beach erupted with activity as people ran to the shore. Waving their
arms, their indiscernible shouts carried away by the wind.
    “See
the tower?” Bran yanked on her hand. “’Twas a broken shell when Calum came. We
carted the stone from the north of the island and built it sturdy.”
    Anne
admired the pride written across the boy’s face. “It sounds like hard work.”
    “Aye,
and it took an eternity, but we’ve a fine keep now.”
    “Where
did you live before the repairs?”
    “There
are long houses at the back of the battlements. Some clan families still use
them.”
    Anne
stole a look across to the quarterdeck. Calum stood at the helm, taking charge
of the ship’s anchoring. The men jumped to his every command