“Since we are of one mind on that,” Alex said, “we can be friends, aye?”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “Do ye mean it?”
“Usually I become friends with women after I bed them,” he said. “But I’ll make an exception for ye.”
“Ye are teasing me again,” she said.
“Ye are so serious, I can’t help myself,” Alex said in a soft voice. “But if we should meet again, ye can trust me to be a friend.”
Glynis met his sea-green eyes. “Then I’ll be your friend as well, Alex MacDonald.”
When she shifted her gaze back to the seals, several of them lifted their heads. Then, one by one, they began slipping into the water.
“Get up,” Alex said with steel in his voice.
Before she could move, his hands encircled her waist, and he lifted her to her feet.
“Damn,” Alex said between his teeth, as a war galley glided around the point of the bay.
“They could be friendly,” Glynis said, but her heart was pounding hard in her chest.
“That’s Hugh MacDonald’s ship,” Alex said, his gaze fixed on it. “We’ll try to outrun them and get back to the castle.”
Alex grabbed her hand, and they flew over the sand and rocks. The pirate galley must have been spotted in the castle as well. Across the small bay, two dozen men poured over the causeway from the castle. The pirates were sailing for the beach midway between them and the castle in an attempt to cut them off before her father’s men could reach them.
It looked as if the pirates would succeed. Though her bare feet were cut and bleeding from the barnacles, Glynis ran faster and faster. But the castle guards were too far away—and the pirates too close.
The guards were still a hundred yards away when the pirate’s boat grounded. Glynis jerked to a halt and watched in horror as men dropped over the side of the ship and started splashing toward shore.
Alex lifted her onto a high rock.
“Stay here so I know where ye are,” he ordered. “I won’t let them get to ye.”
As Alex turned from her, he reached behind him for his claymore, and the steel of his blade whistled through the air. His battle cry “Fraoch!” thundered in her ears as he ran straight at the pirates coming toward them through the surf.
Without breaking his stride, Alex cut down the first two men. As he leaped over the blade of a third, he swung his claymore into the man’s side.
Glynis screamed as another pirate charged Alex before he could recover from his last swing with the big, two-handed sword. With flowing movements, Alex released one hand from his claymore, pulled his dirk from his belt, and plunged it into the man’s chest. His attacker sank to his knees with a cry, and his blood colored the water around him in rusty clouds.
Alex glanced over his shoulder at her as if to be sure none of the pirates had gotten past him. His eyes were murderous, and his every muscle taut and ready.
This was not the laughing man who sat beside Glynis watching seals a short time ago. Nay, this Alexander Bàn MacDonald was every inch a fearsome Highland warrior—and he was magnificent to behold.
Her father’s men were running the last few yards to join the fight, with Duncan MacDonald in the lead. The two groups crashed together with shouts and grunts and swords clanging.
Glynis could not take her eyes off the two MacDonald men. Despite the pirates’ greater number, the pair were lethal. They forced the pirates back, and back again, under a unified and ferocious assault. Although her father’s men fought well, they fought individually. The MacDonald warriors fought as a merciless unit.
Their violence had a grace and control that bespoke years of practice. After a time, she could catch some of the silent signals between them. You take this one, I’ll take that one. The pirates fell before them, one after another.
Something drew her attention from the fierce battle raging on the beach to the pirate ship. A man stood alone in the prow with his arms folded across his broad chest. He was staring at her. As their eyes locked across the distance, a cold shiver went up her spine.
She sensed this man meant her harm—and not just the harm he meant to anyone who crossed his path. She didn’t know why, but she felt as if he was fixing her in his mind, as if he had a particular, evil plan for her.
With his eyes still on her, the man put his fingers to his mouth and made a piercing whistle. The pirates on the beach ran to the boat and scrambled up the sides like rats.
Alex ran after them into the surf until he stood in water to his waist.
“Hugh Dubh MacDonald,” he shouted, waving his claymore in the air. “Come back and fight, ye miserable coward!”
