The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(23)

He shifted, as if her gratitude embarrassed him. “The next time I attempt to rescue a lass from drowning I’ll make sure to remove my armor first. I didn’t realize how heavy it would be, or”—he gave a small half smile—”how cold the water was.”

He shook his dark hair, which was frozen into chunks like hers. He started to say more but was interrupted by a sharp cough that grew progressively harder and deeper, as if he were still trying to purge the water from his lungs. When it wouldn’t stop, Ellie became alarmed and reached over to put a hand on his mail-clad back. She was no healer, but that cough didn’t sound good. He needed to get to shore and get dry and warm—which sounded like heaven to her as well. The fur was warm, but as he’d surmised, she was cold, wet, and uncomfortable.

Finally he stopped, and she removed her hand self-consciously. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone.” Her throat tightened as the horror of the night welled up inside her. “I only wanted a chance to go home.”

He gave her a sympathetic look. “He won’t hurt you, you know. He meant what he said. When it’s safe, he’ll return you to your home.”

She was surprised to find that she actually believed him. Though it didn’t make sense, the pirate captain had saved her life. What kind of pirate risked his own life for an inconsequential prisoner anyway? Yet he’s saved her life—twice, if he was to be believed about leaving her in that cave. “When will that be?”

“I don’t know,” Thomas admitted.

It wasn’t good enough. She had to get home; she had to let her family know she was all right. She couldn’t sail around indefinitely. She was supposed to get married, for goodness sake. In her frustration, she conveniently forgot that she wasn’t exactly anxious for that marriage.

She turned around to demand that the pirate captain tell her what he meant to do with her, when she stopped suddenly, reconsidering. He was frowning, and something in his expression unsettled her. Caught up in the excitement of the chase, she’d momentarily forgotten the precariousness of her situation. She bit her lip, realizing he was probably furious with her for the trouble she’d caused by trying to escape.

Perhaps her demands could wait.

But before she could turn away, he motioned for her to come to him with a gentle crook of the finger that she suspected was one he’d used many times before.

Her spine went rigid. Something about the arrogant gesture raised every hackle in her body. She had visions of some Saracen sultan lounging in his tent and choosing his next concubine. She might be a temporary and unwilling captive, but she was not his slave. Nor was she a woman who would jump to do his bidding. Even her youngest brother, Edmond, had more manners—and the six-year-old lad was far more adorable than this arrogant, overgrown, too-handsome-for-his-own-good Viking. Half-Viking, she corrected.

She turned away with a sharp toss of her head.

Only when she glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw him stalking toward her did she realize her mistake. One look at his face made her blood run cold. Her foolish act of defiance had sparked his anger, and the transformation from affable rogue to ruthless Viking couldn’t have been more startling. With his blond hair and icy Nordic features, he looked every inch the cold and heartless barbarian.

She felt the strong urge to cross herself. Fear trickled down her spine. What would he do to her?

She sensed him behind her and knew she was about to find out.

It was time for her reckoning, whether she wanted it or not.

Chapter Five

Erik had been enjoying himself replaying the night’s adventures with his men when he’d glanced over and noticed the lass talking to Randolph. His good mood had evaporated like water tossed on sauna rocks.

He sure as hell hoped Randolph kept his wits about him and didn’t let anything slip about Bruce. The less she knew, the better. The lass had given him enough trouble already. Which reminded him, he thought with a dangerous glint in his eye, he and nursemaid Ellie had some unfinished business to settle.

When she turned and caught his gaze, he motioned for her to come to him. He couldn’t have been more stunned when she looked right at him and turned away. It seemed so out of the realm of possibility that she would not only ignore his summons (in his experience—which was extensive—women loved that little quirk of the finger), but also dismiss him, that if it weren’t for the head toss that went along it, he would have assumed she hadn’t seen him (despite the fact that she’d been looking right at him).

His temper flared like fire on dry kindling. Normally it took something akin to an act of God to rile Erik’s anger, but the wee nursemaid had managed it with a mere toss of her head. Albeit as far as dismissive tosses of the head went, it was quite a spectacular one. She’d lifted her tiny, pointed chin, glared down her thin nose, and flipped her frozen mop of wavy dark hair as if she were the Queen of bloody England.

He wasn’t used to being dismissed by a woman or to having his commands disobeyed, and neither sat well with him. Who the hell did this little nondescript nursemaid think she was? Unwilling passenger or nay, he was captain of this ship. And she damn well better learn the chain of command around here. He wasn’t going to have some imperious nursemaid throw his ship in disarray. She’d caused enough trouble for one night already.

They hadn’t escaped completely unscathed in their skirmish with the English. One of his kinsmen had been hit in the arm with an arrow—nothing serious, but it needed to be tended—and Randolph appeared to be suffering from his dunking-turned-near-drowning.