His grin grew wider, wickedly wider. His eyes slid down the length of her, lingering in all the warm spots, then returned to her mouth. She could almost see what he was thinking, what he was remembering, and her cheeks flushed. “Now why would I want to do that? I was having too much fun with your methods of persuasion.”
Her eyes narrowed on the grinning lout. “You are a wicked man.”
“I’ll show you just how wicked later tonight.”
Her skin tingled with anticipation—in spite of her intention to not allow him to affect her. It was a foolish intention, he always affected her. She drew up her spine. “I’m afraid I will be busy this evening.”
His smile fell. “Busy?”
“Yes.” She smiled sweetly. “Packing for our journey.”
His jaw hardened. “You’re not going.”
Determined green met equally determined blue. “And how do you intend to stop me? You’ve no authority over me, Duncan Campbell.”
His gaze narrowed, the tic beneath his jaw jumped to life. “Do not challenge me on this, Jeannie. It’s too dangerous.”
“Unless they are searching the waterways, I don’t see why. No one would think to look for you on Islay.”
His lips fell into a thin line, not pleased by her argument—because it was true. They could embark directly from Castleswene and land right at Dunyvaig, the MacDonald’s stronghold on the eastern seaboard of Islay. They never need even sit upon a horse.
“I don’t want you involved,” he said.
“I am involved. If my father had anything to do with what happened to you, it was partially because of me. With a good wind we could be there in a few hours. Besides, you can’t deny I helped you before.”
“The same trick will not work twice. No doubt your friend the captain has discovered his mistake.”
Jeannie placed her hand on his arm. “Please, Duncan. This was my idea. I want to go to see it through. I want to be there with you.” Tears burned behind her eyes. “I can’t sit and wait and worry about what is happening.” Her eyes met his. “You wanted my help, now you have it. Don’t turn me away.”
She held her breath, watching his face. His jaw flexed. “If there is trouble you will say I abducted you. What is one more crime when I’ve already been convicted of treason?”
She bit back a smile. She would do no such thing. She would defend him with her last breath.
Duncan breathed easier once they left the coast of Knapdale behind them and entered the open sound, safe on one of his brother’sbirlinns.It was a small party—better to avoid too much attention—just Duncan, his men, and a handful of the loyal Gordon guardsmen. And Jeannie.
He’d been fooling himself to think he could leave without her. It wasn’t the danger—she was right, the sea was probably the safest place for him—but if anything went wrong, he didn’t want her to see him captured. But would hearing of it later be any better? Probably not.
Like it or not, she was involved. He couldn’t turn her away now. Not when he wasn’t sure how much time they had left. For purely selfish reasons, he liked having her with him. If he had his way they would never be apart again.
More than once he’d thought of asking her to run away with him. To leave Scotland and the noose poised over his head. He had wealth enough to last for a dozen lifetimes. Perhaps if it had been just the two of them, he would. But she had her children and he could not ask her to deprive them of their future.
He was done hiding. He wasn’t alone anymore. It was time to face the charges against him and hope that justice would be done.
Duncan kept a close eye on the coast falling away behind them while the Norseman Leif, holding true to his seafaring heritage, sailed them across the sea. Their departure would hold the most danger—if anyone was watching Castleswene, they would attempt to follow. So far, however, they appeared to be alone except for the occasional fishing boat.
The sky wasn’t exactly blue, but the soft gray was about as much as they could hope for on a cold December morn. Away from the buffer of land, however, the wind held quite a nasty bite.
Keeping one eye on the water behind them, he took the seat behind Jeannie who had bundled herself up to her nose in plaids. It was a stark contrast to the way he’d left her this morning, her naked limbs tangled in the bedsheets and red-gold hair spilled across the pillow.
He’d suffered well for his wee trick—very well. She’d tortured him for hours. First with her words, whispering all the wicked things she was going to do to him, then with her hands, and finally with her mouth and tongue.
He hardened at the visceral memory of her teasing. How she’d refused to allow him to touch her as she brushed her tight nipples across his chest, across his mouth, across his turgid cock. As her smooth, silky skin slid against his. How her tongue had circled the heavy head of his erection, traveled the long length licking, flicking, and circling until he’d been forced to grab the mattress to keep from surging into her mouth. How when she’d finally taken him between her warm, moist lips he’d almost come. And then how she’d milked him in her mouth, caressed his bollocks in her soft hands, and forced him over the edge.
He would submit to her punishment any time. But as demanding as she’d been in bed, she’d been unusually quiet afterward—quiet that had extended into the morning. He attributed it to concern over their journey and the precarious state of his freedom, but he wondered if it was something else entirely.
She’d seemed so excited about the trip before. “Is something bothering you, Jeannie?”
The question startled her from her reverie and her eyes quickly shaded. She shook her head a little too vehemently. The wool slipped from around her mouth, revealing a bright smile. “Nay. ’Tis cold, that’s all. How much longer?”
