Well, we may be a week late for Bonfire Night,” Jamie laughed, folding her arms, “but we will make up for the time in sheer spectacle.”
Kieran grinned at her infectious enthusiasm.
“Aye,” Andrew smiled.
“Does Mr. Chen need help?” Ewan asked, looking down the hill to the beach where the ship’s carpenter was pushing sticks affixed with firework rockets into the sand. A bonfire burned farther on down the shoreline, flames lighting up the dark night. Crew members gathered around the flickering fire, laughing and passing around a bottle of gin someone had unearthed from the ship’s hold.
“Nae,” Jamie replied. “Mr. Chen said we were tae leave him to it.”
She peered over her shoulder, her eyes instantly finding Kieran’s. As usual, the smoldering tension of her gaze sent heat spiraling through his veins.
Damn, but he was the most fortunate of men to have this lass’s regard.
They had left Rio two weeks ago. Mr. Chen’s fireworks had been such a success there, the crew had begged to be able to do another round of fireworks for Guy Fawkes Night. As Captain Cuthie refused to allow fireworks to be lit on ship—for good reason—they had postponed the event until landing in Tristan da Cunha, the last island stop before sailing into the Roaring Forties that would eventually lead them on to Sydney.
The Brotherhood now stood together beneath a stand of palm trees at the edge of the sand. The dramatic slopes of an extinct volcano rose behind them, green and vibrant in the wet tropics.
Kieran stole another glance at Jamie. She grinned at something Rafe said, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.
Unable to bear being so far from her, Kieran slipped around the men and moved to stand behind Jamie. She acknowledged his presence by reaching back and wrapping her fingers around his, the dark night and looming shadows easily hiding the connection from prying eyes on the beach. After all, as far as Kieran knew, no one else aboardThe Minervasuspected that James Fyffe was a woman. He intended to protect her from discovery.
Mr. Chen lit the first fuse, and a rocket hissed into the inky sky.
A boom of orange sparks soon followed.
The crew cheered.
Jamie added her own voice, once more bouncing eagerly on her tiptoes.
Kieran laughed.
How he adored this lass.
He loved how she giggled while telling a joke, unable to hold the laughter in.
He adored the wee dent in her brow when she concentrated on a task.
He loved how she rolled her eyes and shimmied her hips when she ate something she liked.
He worshiped the saucy upturn of her nose, those fine freckles that dusted her cheekbones, the way sunlight caught reddish highlights in her dark curls.
He loved how she met each day with fire and determination.
He loved . . . her.
The feeling washed over him, humbling in its intensity.
Bright. Pure. Clear.
Kieran MacTavish loved Jamie Fyffe.
How had it taken him this long to realize it? He should have known he would love her from that first conversation after discovering she was a woman. It was so obvious to him now.
Howhe loved her!
As if to punctuate the moment, another series of fireworks exploded overhead.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
