King of the Isles by Debbie Mazzuca Read Free Book Online Page A

temper, and the fact she could make him do so only added to his fury. “Evangeline, come back here,” he demanded to her retreating back.
    He reached her in two strides and took hold of her arm. “That’s it, ye go too far.” He lowered his mouth to her ear, not wanting Aurora to hear what he said. “I’m no’ a bloody nursemaid. Ye’ll take the child to either Uscias’s cottage or my uncle’s palace.”
    She whirled on him. “Will you cease grabbing me?”
    “I wouldna have to if ye would stay in one place and stop makin’ a fool of me in—”
    “Me? Oh, no , Your Highness , you do that quite well on your own.”
    She tried to struggle out of his grasp, but he held firm. “This matter has naught to do with ye and ye’re wastin’ my time.”
    Glaring at him, she flicked her finger.
    A blast of fiery heat shot through his hand. He wrenched it from her arm, no more able to contain his anguished moan than he was to stifle the memories the searing pain evoked. At Glastonbury, Lamont had taken maniacal pleasure in holding a burning blade to Lachlan’s flesh. He slowly lifted his gaze to hers. “Doona ever do that to me again.” Ice-cold fury leaked into his voice. She gasped, taking a step back.
    As though she realized she’d pushed him too far, she continued to walk backward. “I ... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ...”
    “Nay, ye shouldna have.” He stalked her, his anger blinding him to his surroundings.
    She held up her hands. “I said ...” Her eyes widened and she fell into the pool.
    Cool water splashed onto his face and robes, dampening his fury. Nervous giggles broke the tension in the room when Evangeline swam to the surface, and spurted water from her mouth. Fighting to contain his laughter, Lachlan leaned over and offered his hand. She slapped it away, hauling herself from the pool. Her dripping purple robes clung to her lush curves and Lachlan found himself searching for something to cover her with. From beneath her long lashes, she surveyed the now laughing men and women. With a disdainful sniff, she turned on her heel and walked stiff-backed from the room, leaving puddles behind her.
    He winced, recognizing her attempt to cover her hurt and embarrassment with contempt. She truly was driving him mad. One minute he wanted to throttle her and in the next to comfort her and shield her from the Faes’ derision.
    “Your Highness, may I suggest—” Bana began.
    Lachlan shifted his gaze from Evangeline to Bana and Erwn. Aurora stood between them, staring sympathetically after Evangeline. “I’m goin’ to seek my uncle’s counsel. Aurora.” He held out his hand. “I willna be long.”
    It was only when they’d left the State Room that Lachlan realized without Uscias he had no way of transporting himself to his uncle’s palace. He wasn’t like the other Fae. For the most part it didn’t bother him, but he didn’t relish the idea of asking Erwn or Bana for assistance. To do so would further weaken his standing in their eyes, and Evangeline had undermined his authority enough for one day. He felt the same sense of powerlessness he had when Ursula and Lamont had him at their mercy.
    Aurora drew him from his self-indulgent musings with a tug on his hand. “Where’s Nuie?” she asked.
    “Nuie?”
    “Your sword.”
    He chuckled at the name she’d christened his lethal blade with. A sword that could take down Fae or Mortal in a single blow—a sword that imbued him with enough power and magick to quiet any of his detractors. The thought raised his spirits, although even his blade didn’t imbue him with enough magick to transport himself. He cast a speculative eye on the child. “Aurora, do ye think ye’d be able to transport us to my uncle’s?”
    She nodded. “Uscias told me if ever he couldn’t be here to assist you, I was to look after you.”
    Oh, aye, just what he wanted to hear, his mentor had appointed him an eight-year-old nursemaid. He was thankful Evangeline was not