Page 34 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

She should have been frozen in this chill wind, but she wasn't. Heat radiated off Brodie's skin. She glanced down at her half-dry smock. What had happened to the rest of her clothes? Thankfully, the smock was a thicker winter garment made of linen. Her feet within her boots were still wet and squishy. She wore trews hidden beneath everything, which had been her habit for years because she rode so much.

Where was her horse? She glanced around, but naught was familiar on this wind-whipped sea island. Rugged gray cliffs jutted skyward, white waves crashed, and calling seagulls darted through the sky. A chestnut-brown wooden galley sat beached in the surf.

An image flashed in her mind—someone kicking her backward on a galley at night. Her head hit something hard. She drew up short. Heavens! Who had done that? Why had she been on a galley? Was it the same one that waited in front of her?

"What's wrong?" Brodie frowned, giving her a curious glance.

Everything. Panic flooded her, increasing her heart rate.

"We must hurry." He pulled her toward the galley. Several men remained on board, while a few lingered on the beach, watching their approach. Which clan were they? Friends or foes of the MacAuley clan?

"Are you cold?" Brodie asked.

She shook her head.

Without warning, he lifted her into his arms and carried her through the shallow surf toward the galley as if she weighed no more than a bairn. He smelled of the sea and masculinity. The heat from his body provided all the warmth she needed, but he wouldn't keep holding her.

"Can you help her, Kenneth?" Brodie called to a man on board.

"Aye, chief." The warrior, just as large and strong as Brodie but fully dressed, reached down, lifted her, then placed her on one of the wooden thwarts. The cold became extreme, and her teeth chattered. Her hair and smock were still damp. She hissed in a breath. Why did she feel as if she'd plunged into icy water? Naught made sense.

"She's freezing. Have you an extra plaid?" Brodie shouted as he boarded.

"She can have mine," one of the men offered, grinning as he unbelted it.

Her face burned, and she was glad the dawn light was dim enough to cover her blush. Thankfully, the man wore a long ivory linen shirt, which concealed anything scandalous. Since Brodie was shirtless, 'twas clear why he didn't give her his plaid.

Brodie enveloped her, including her head, in the man's warm, dry plaid.

"You well ken what it means when a lass is wrapped in your plaid," the man teased.

All the other men laughed.

"Och! Shut your gob, Neil," Brodie grumbled. "She's nay yours."

"Aye, chief. We ken who she belongs to."

The men laughed again.

Belongs to? Elsea's face burned even hotter, but she found the men's mischief amusing despite her precarious situation.

Which clan was he the chief of? She opened her mouth and tried to say which, but no sound emerged. Even if she could've whispered, the sound would've been blown away on the wind and drowned in the loud waves.

"Is that her ladyship?" an older man asked, giving her a critical glance.

"Aye." Brodie cast him a warning glower and took a seat beside her.

Elsea frowned. Did the men know her, too? She looked to Brodie, hoping he would explain. She must have met them sometime in the past.

He met her gaze reluctantly, his expression surly. "Does your head pain you?"

She nodded. It did, but her memories remained foggy. How had she hit her head? Oh aye, a man had kicked her down on a galley. She tried hard, but 'twas all she could recall.

She didn't know whether she could trust Brodie or any of the people manning this galley and raising the sail, but she had no choice. They left the island, which was quite a distance from the mainland. She could barely see it through the mist. When she tried to recall how she had come to be here, her memory went dark.

Again, she reviewed the memories she'd retained, thinking of her family and clan at Kincreag. Did they know she was here? Would her brothers retrieve her?

When Brodie's bare knee beneath his plaid touched hers, the wind didn't chill her as much. Almost like being in a heated room.