The MacRuairis made even their Viking forebears seem civilized. He’d been just as surprised as anyone else when his cousin Lachlan had decided to join the Highland Guard. His war name of Viper wasn’t far off the mark. Lachlan had the heart and the morals of a snake—in other words, he didn’t have any. Erik wondered how he was faring up north. He’d been surprised when his bastard cousin had volunteered to go with the ladies when they’d been forced to separate. Like him, Lachlan had been born on the sea. Being land-bound so long would make his cousin half-crazed—if Bella MacDuff didn’t do it first. The defiant Countess of Buchan, who’d risked everything by crowning Bruce, couldn’t have made her disdain of MacRuairi more obvious.
The lass shivered. “Thank you, but I think I’d rather not.”
He waited for her to look at him. “You’ve nothing to fear. I meant it when I said you would be safe.”
Their eyes held for a moment, and he sensed that she believed him.
She lowered her gaze and fiddled with the fur around her feet. “I thought you would be angry after what happened.” She peeked up at him from under her lashes and said shyly, “Thank you for rescuing me. I got a cramp and couldn’t move.”
Ah, he’d wondered what had happened. “What you did back there was rash. The English boats would not have reached you in time. If I’d been a few minutes later, you would have drowned.”
She quirked a delicate brow. “Youare lecturingmeon rash?”
He grinned unrepentantly. “It’s not rash when you know the outcome. I’ve got the wind at my back. Always.”
She dismissed his boast with a not-very-discreet roll of the eyes. “How could you be so sure the English captain would take your challenge and not simply wait for you to come to him with his archers ready?”
His gaze turned appraisingly. If the lass had captained that ship, the English might have fared better. Waiting is exactly what the English should have done. Not only would it have given time for the other boats to come to their aid, but coming about and setting all their bowmen on them would have resulted in many more injuries to Erik’s men. “Superior English pride,” he answered with a smile. “It will get them every time.”
“And what about superior pirate pride?” she asked archly.
He let out a sharp bellow of laughter. “You can bloody well count on that as well.”
The lass was proving to be surprisingly amusing. He wasn’t used to women challenging him. They usually bent over backward to please him. He studied her pale face, half-expecting something to have changed. But the same pale, nondescript features stared back at him. He was glad, however, to see the fear was gone from her eyes.
He couldn’t resist challenging her right back. “You don’t fool me one bit, you know.”
She eyed him quizzically. “I don’t?”
He shook his head. “Nay.” He hadn’t missed the look on her face when they were flying over the waves. For the first time, she hadn’t looked as though her laces were pulled too tight. He kicked his feet back and folded his arms across his chest. “You were having fun.”
Even in the dark he could tell she was blushing. “I was terrified,” she protested. Holding his gaze, she gave him a small, conceding smile. “But it was thrilling. I’ve never gone that fast in my life—in the daylight, let alone at night.” Her gaze fell on his face, and he had the strangest sensation that she could see right through him. He had to force himself not to shift uncomfortably. “Who are you?” she asked thoughtfully.
He paused for a moment, considering what to tell her. “My men call me Hawk.”
“That explains the sail.”
“Aye, and the prow of the boat.” He pointed to the carving, though it was too dark to see.
“Just like the dragon ships,” she said with a shudder.
He grinned—back to the Viking again. “It’s meant to ward off sea monsters and other terrifying beasts.”
“And what wards off you?”
He chuckled. The lass was definitely entertaining.
She tilted her head, the hazy moonlight casting her features in a ghostly glow. “I’m surprised that I’ve never heard of you.”
“Why should you? I’m just a regular ol’ pirate, trying to eke out a living the only way I know how.”
From the sound she made, he guessed that his pretense of modesty didn’t fool her one bit. “Your talents are wasted as a pirate. Have you ever thought of putting those skills to lawful use?”
“For whom?” He watched her carefully, wondering if she’d in fact heard something. “King Edward?”
She shrugged. “Among others. My brother-in—” She stopped so suddenly, he wondered what she’d been about to say. “Many people would pay well for a man of your skills.”
The lass was hiding something, he’d bet his ship on it. But then again, so was he. “I appreciate your advice,” he laughed. “But I prefer the freedom of being beholden to no one but myself.”
