Jenna watched with a slightly bemused expression on her face. Then she crouched next to him, placed her hand over the pile of driftwood, and muttered a few words. Flames flared to life in a whoosh of sparks, eagerly taking root in the dry wood.
Jenna looked at him and shrugged. “Sometimes being a MacFinnan spellweaver comes in handy.”
“It certainly does,” Arran agreed. “Now use yer magic to build us a boat, and I’ll be really impressed.”
“Sorry. I’m right out of boat-making magic.”
“Shame.” He stripped off his plaid, shirt, and boots, and spread them out by the fire to dry.
In only his breeches, he seated himself on the sand. Jenna hovered nearby, looking uncertain. Her shift still clung to her body, outlining her hips and breasts.
Arran’s mouth went dry, and he quickly looked away.
“Come sit by the fire, lass,” he said, still not looking at her. “Ye’ll dry much quicker.”
*
Come sit bythe fire? With him lounging half-naked with his ridiculously muscled chest on display? Did he have any idea what the sight of him like that was doing to her?
Jenna pursed her lips. Perhaps he was trying to get his revenge for her kissing him earlier. To be honest, she didn’t know why she’d done that. It had been spur of the moment, instinctive, and she’d enjoyed every second.
Aargh! She wanted to tear out her hair in frustration. They’d agreed to pretend that their first kiss hadn’t happened, so why had she gone and done it again? She didn’t know. Rationality seemed to go out of the window when he was around. Oh, bloody hell.
Deliberately not looking at him, she seated herself on the sand a couple of feet away, drew her knees against her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. Arran said nothing, but she could feel him watching her. His gaze burned against her skin almost as hotly as the flames did.
“So,” she said. “How long till Mal and your men come get us?”
“There are a number of islets in the bay that they’ll search. Depends on which they search first.”
“So we’re stuck here until then?”
“Aye, lass.”
It might be hours. Hours alone with Arran MacLeod. She glanced over at him and found him watching her, his blue eyes brighter than the ocean in front of them.
“I tried to fix the second anchor stone,” she blurted. “It didn’t work.”
“Ah.”
She looked at him. “You don’t sound surprised.”
He sat up, pulling his legs into a cross-legged position, and fiddled with a pebble in his lap. “I’m disappointed, but not surprised after what I learned today. That’s why I came looking for ye. It seems there is more going on than we realized.”
“What do you mean?”
Arran’s sapphire gaze fixed on her face. “The men who attacked Tollman’s Gate bore a strange marking. I drew it for Brother Merrick and asked him to research it, see if there were any records of what it might signify. He discovered its meaning. The mark is a symbol of Njord.”
“Oh. I see,” Jenna said, although she really didn’t. “What’s a Njord?”
“Not a what. A who. Njord is a god. A Norse god of the sea, to be exact.”
Jenna blinked, digesting this. “So the raiders are followers of this god? What’s that got to do with the anchor stones?”
He gave a frustrated huff. “I dinna know yet. Something. It’s connected somehow, I can feel it. I just dinna know how.” He scooped another load of pebbles from the beach and began throwing them into the water. Each time he did, the muscles in his right arm bulged and flexed and Jenna felt herself watching the movement as if mesmerized.
She forced herself to concentrate on the dancing flames of the campfire. Njord. A Norse god. She might have scoffed at such a preposterous idea had she not met a goddess herself only a few hours ago. She glanced at Arran. The set of his shoulders was tense and his jaw tight as he watched the pebbles go sailing one by one through the air to plop into the waves.
Should she tell him about Lir? Yes, probably. Didn’t he have a right to know that the MacFinnan spellweaver he’d brought from the future was wholly incapable of doing what he was paying her for? But the famous MacFinnan stubbornness kicked in. Who said she couldn’t do this? Only her own doubts. Lir had brought her here for a reason.
