“What for?” she blurted, thrilled and frightened in the same instant.
He grinned then, and she could easily see the mischievous lad he had been. She herself recalled a few instances of his impishness, such as when he had put a bucket of frogs down Iain’s pants when they had been lads. On nights when she’d been too distraught to talk after she had returned to Dunvegan after being taken, Bridgette had sat with her, offering comfort with her presence while relaying many stories about Alex as a child. Lena had not really seen a glimpse of his playful nature since boyhood. He seemed mostly serious to her now and rather guarded, though she certainly could not begrudge him any wariness since she herself had a wall of it around her. According to Bridgette, he’d gone away to apprentice as a carefree young lad and had returned home a somewhat solemn young man. The solemnness was gone certainly, but she supposed as laird there was little room for being anything but serious and responsible. Her own brother was a good example of that. He was rather grave himself with the weight of the clan on his shoulders.
“I’ll lift us both onto the birlinn,” he finally responded.
She slid her hands over his slick, thickly corded shoulders, the feel of his body under her fingertips making her senses spin. He didn’t make a move to lift them out of the water. Instead, he was perfectly still, simply staring into her eyes.
“What are ye doing?” she asked, swallowing past the wild pulse at the base of her throat.
“I’m committing yer face to my memory, Mo bhean mhaiseach.”
Her pulse skittered at the way the wordsmy beautiful wiferolled off his tongue. She almost believed it to be true with the way he stared at her as if she were the most precious of stones. Still gripping the rope, he used his other hand to make a circle around them in the water as he spoke. “In times when we are parted, I will but have to close my eyes, and I will ken every lovely little dusty spot on the bridge of yer slender nose. I’ll ken the crystal blue of yer eyes and the way yer thick lashes curl ever so slightly upward. I’ll nae ever forget, regardless of the distance, how yer lips invite me to kiss them with their plumpness.”
His words, his nearness, and the way she felt so protected and worshipped by him kindled a fire within her. Her lips tingled with an ache to feel his upon hers, yet the fear held her back still. Once more, he circled his hand around her, and since she could not get words out to ask him to kiss her, she asked instead, “Why are ye making a circle around us?”
“’Tis acaim,” he replied, his voice steady and deep.
She could not recall having ever heard the word before. “Acaim?” She quirked her eyebrows.
“Aye, Wife.”
“I like the way ye call meWife,” she admitted.
He grinned. “I like doing so,” he said, then stared deep into her eyes. “Acaimis a sanctuary. I make this invisible circle around ye to remind ye always that ye are safe, even in the darkest of times. I will keep ye safe. I will care for ye.”
Everything about him gave her comfort and courage. “Kiss me, Alex,” she whispered.
Tenderness filled his features, along with something primal. The water swished as he brought his hand out of it and cupped the side of her cheek. Without words, he brushed his lips against hers—once, twice. Shivers coursed through her body as his lips captured hers again, slightly more searching this time. He traced his tongue along the edge of her lips, a low growl emanating from him, and that sound and his touch were so delicious, so blissfully gentle and reverent, that there was no fear, only a longing for more.
She curled her fingers into his hair and tugged him as close as she could. Their bodies melded together in the water, his hardness like a shield against all harm. She parted her lips, and when she did, his tongue touched hers. He deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth and allowing her to do the same. It was divine ecstasy. His hand came around her waist, and he pulled her so tight against him that she could feel his staff press into her belly. A moment of fright tried to claim her, but he seemed to sense it and banished the moment with featherlight kisses to her lips, her neck, and her collarbone. Every time his mouth pressed against her skin, she felt as if the two of them were metal and he was soldering them together with his kisses.
Alex was true to his word in that he, in no way, punished her reckless decision to climb the mast. He did, however, keep her in his sights at all times after that. She didn’t know for certain whether it was being on the water or the fact that no matter where she was on the birlinn she could trust Alex had her in his view, but she felt a wondrous sense of freedom and safety on the water.
As the first week drew into the second, she learned his men’s names and even began to feel more comfortable around all of them.
The suppers under the stars every night were meager, but her heart felt full as she sat by her husband’s side. His hand would always brush hers several times before he would take her fingers and intertwine them with his, and it took her several days to realize that it was Alex’s way of ensuring he was not frightening her. His thoughtfulness began to melt the large block of fear that had lodged in her heart.
At night, when she was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open, he would lead her to her pallet and lay down by her side, cradling her in his strong, protective embrace. She loved the moment right before she fell asleep, when he slowly stroked his fingers through her hair and his heart thudded against her ear, which was pressed against his chest. His warm breath would wash over her cheek with each of his exhalations as she became drowsier and drowsier. Not once in the days they were on the water did he demand anything from her the likes of what Findlay used to demand.
Alex simply gave to her. He gave his attention, his protection, and his time—or some of it. She always fell asleep in his arms, but she never awoke in them. She assumed he was waking before her and not sleeping very much to keep a watchful eye on his men and the ship. But when she awoke in the middle of the night on the final night they were to be at sea and he was not beside her, she went in search of him.
She found him on the other side of the birlinn, asleep under the stars with his arms crossed over his bare chest, head resting on his plaid. He was lying well away from the other men and Marsaili. The only person near him was the older man, Donald, who she knew now was Alex’s right hand. He wasn’t asleep but rather crouched near Alex, seeming almost as if he were on watch. She smiled tentatively when his gaze fastened on her, and he cocked his silver eyebrows.
“Are ye on watch duty?” she asked in a hushed tone so as not to wake Alex. By the deep, slow breaths he inhaled, she thought his sleep to be deep.
“Ye could say that,” the man replied in an oddly evasive tone.
She motioned toward Alex. “Does he sleep here every night?”
“Aye, when he sleeps.”
She nodded. It was as she’d expected. Alex kept a close eye on the birlinn and the ship. She was glad to know his not sleeping beside her had nothing to do with her. “I awoke, and he was nae there,” she said when all Donald did was stare at her.
“I suspect,” he said slowly, “ye should get used to that.”
“What do ye mean?” she asked with a frown.
Alex moaned, drawing her attention, but Donald stood abruptly, moved in front of Alex, and blocked her view of him. “That’s something ye’ll have to ask Alex, lass. But nae now.”
