The Taming of a Scottish Princess

  She flashed him a smile, and they set about moving the boat toward the shore.

  “Why is this boat here?”

  “There’s actually two.” She nodded farther down the small cove to where another small boat could be seen peeking out from behind some sea oats.

  “Two? Surely not many people go into the cave?”

  “They’re for the men who collect the kelp. They use them to check the beds located in this bay to determine when they’re ready to harvest.”

  “Ah.” They slipped the boat into the water and climbed in. Michael took the oars and rowed them toward the cave mouth. “Our landlady in Oban seemed to think the kelp industry was faltering. What will people on this island do for income if that fails?”

  Her brows lowered. “I don’t know. Perhaps half of the island’s income is from that one industry. It would be difficult to replace.”

  They were nearing the mouth of the cave. Jane said, “There’s an iron ring set into the face of that large rock. We tie the boat to that ring, but make it long, to account for the tide rising.”

  He did as she asked, and then she climbed out of the boat and made the short leap to the top of the rock. “Follow me.”

  Michael followed her and looked off the side of the rock. “It’s not that deep here.”

  “No, but the eddy is treacherous. If you had to swim it, you’d be exhausted before you reached shore.”

  He nodded, liking this day’s adventure better than their last. The sun shone brightly, though the wind was chilled. In addition, the climb down the cliff face hadn’t been as difficult this time, as the wind and sun had dried the path, though there’d been plenty of difficult moments.

  A small ridge connected the rock with the cave. “It’s only usable at low tide,” Jane remarked.

  He looked up at the cave mouth. “The entire thing is underwater when the tide’s high?”

  “Most of it. There are a few small ledges that stay dry, but it would be an uncomfortable few hours while you waited for the tide to lower.”

  “It seems like a very small opening for a cave.”

  “It’s more of a tunnel here, but it opens to a larger cavern farther in.”

  Jane ducked down and led the way into the cave. “This way.” Her voice echoed behind her.

  “Will we need a torch?” he asked, following her, his shoulders brushing each side of the small opening.

  “The main chamber has some natural lighting. Besides, it’s too damp to keep a torch lit.”

  A big drop of water hit his forehead, as if to agree with her.

  She paused before him, a misty shape in the growing darkness. “It’s only dark for a short distance. Just put your hands on the cave ceiling, so you can judge the height, and go slowly. I’ll keep speaking so you can follow the sound of my voice.”

  “I’ll put one hand on the cave ceiling, but the other one I’m putting here.” He placed his hand low on her back.

  She stiffened.

  “It will be safer,” he said. “You know the way.”

  There was a long silence, and then she said, “Fine. Follow me.”

  With that, she was off and they walked slowly into the darkness. “What shall I talk about?”

  “Tell me about growing up on Barra.”

  “There’s not much to tell, but the tunnel’s not that long, so . . . fine. Jaimie and Lindsee and I—”

  “Lindsee?”

  “Lady MacDonald.”

  “Ah, yes. I visited with her the other day.”

  “She needs to leave the island,” Jane said sharply. “She’s wasting away here, waiting to fall in love. That will never happen on Barra.”

  “I didn’t get the impression that she was wasting away at all.”

  Jane paused, and Michael almost ran into her. “What do you mean by that?” Her voice cracked sharply in the echoing tunnel.

  “I meant that she seemed quite content to be here.” He frowned down at the blackness around his feet. “There’s water in here.”

  “We’re in a cave that is completely submerged at high tide. Of course there’s water.”

  His lips quirked. “I suppose I should have expected that,” he said meekly.

  She didn’t answer, but he felt the faintest tremor in her back, as if she held in a laugh. “Continue with your story,” he said. “You were saying something about you, Jaimie, and Lindsee?”

  “Ah, yes. When we were young, we would—” She went on to tell him how the three of them played their way from one edge of the island to the other, pretending to be knights—Lindsee was always the damsel in distress—as they galloped through moors and rolling hills.

  As he walked behind her in the darkness, water dripping overhead, his boots wet and icy, he was aware that only his hand was warm where it rested on the small of her back. Because he could, Michael slid his hand ever lower. Just a quarter of an inch, then another quarter of an inch.

  Ah. There. Truly, no woman had ever possessed so fine an ass as Jane. It was a petite ass, made for a man’s hands, and yet curved enough to provide one with the enjoyment of—

  She stopped again and he quickly slid his hand back in place, just on the outside chance she was about to object. Instead, she said, “I feel a bit of a wind. Do you?”

  He did, now that he was no longer concentrating on the curve of her rump. “We’re near the cavern?”

  “I believe so.” She started forward, the cave turning sharply to the left. “Ah! Here it is.” Her voice echoed oddly.

  He found out why a few seconds later as he exited the cave entrance and found himself standing behind Jane in a large room, more of a cathedral, lit by several large crevices in the ceiling where green vegetation peeked through. The walls glistened with dampness and were streaked with red and green mineral deposits. In the center was a large pool of fresh ocean water, left from the previous tide. A handful of small crabs and fish flopped about, having been swept in and then abandoned. Around the edge was a ledge similar to the one that he’d just stepped on that was just wide enough for one person to walk. “It’s beautiful.”

  His voice bounced around the cavern and returned, seeming far too loud in his own ears. He glanced up and noted that the sandstone cavern was magnificently arched and decorated with dripping spears of rock that appeared to have been thrust from the ground above.

  He eyed the spears overhead uneasily. “Those look dangerous.”

  “They can be. We’ll be cautious and stay to the sides of the room.”

  “Were those here when you played in this cave as a child?”

  “I’m sure they were. I’m equally sure that I didn’t pay them the least bit of attention.”

  “How could you not?”

  “Because we were looking for pirate treasure.”

  “Did you find any?”

  “No, but that didn’t stop us from being certain it was here.” She stepped on a small ledge and looked down at the cavern floor.

  He followed. “Where’s this clue of yours?”

  Jane stripped off her gloves, tucked them into her pocket, and pointed up. Way up.

  “That ledge up there?”

  “I think so. It was so long ago, but . . .” She bit her lip and regarded the ledge for a moment before she nodded. “That’s it.” She pursed her lips, which made him want to kiss her. “I’m glad you’re here. Have I mentioned the snakes?”

  His mouth went dry, all thought of kisses gone in a second. “Snakes? It had to be snakes.”

  She pushed her spectacles farther back on her nose. “Sometimes they climb in through those openings and nest on the ledges, which is what brought us in here to begin with. We were pretending to be dragon hunters and we chased a grass snake through the grass on the cliff and it disappeared in one of those breaks in the cave ceiling. When we peered into the hole, we could see the snake on a ledge.”

  “So you realized there was a cave here?”

  “When you live on a small island you know every nook and cranny, s
o we knew about the cave; we just didn’t realize how large it was. The cave was forbidden, and we’d obeyed, but now we had a reason not to. Chasing dragons is not for the timid.”

  “Not if you had to climb that rock wall.”

  “Which one of us must climb today. The clue is etched above that top ledge, right where the snake was hiding.”

  “Bloody hell.” He steeled himself. “Let’s get this over with. The tide will be changing soon enough.”

  She led the way around the small ledge. After a moment, she paused. “Have you noticed anything peculiar?”

  “Other than the fact that you have an annoying habit of keeping important information to yourself?”

  “I can’t be expected to remember every little thing.” Her boots scraped on the rocks, the faint sound of dripping water loud over the muted roar of the surf beating on the rocks. Finally, she stopped. “There’s a way to reach that ledge here, I think.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a short length of rope.

  “What’s that for?”

  “Climbing.” She’d already bunched her skirts in one hand, hiked them above her knees, and then used the short rope to tie her skirts to one side of her leg. Her legs were now revealed all the way to above her knees, her sensible boots tightly laced to her ankles.

  He grinned appreciatively. “London society would be scandalized.”

  “London society isn’t climbing a rock wall.” She turned toward the wall. “Give me a boost.”

  “What? No. I’m not letting you climb alone.”

  “I must reach that ledge and copy what’s carved on that wall.”

  “You’ll need a notebook and a pencil of some sort—”

  She regarded him with a flat stare.

  “You already brought them?”

  “In my pocket. Now give me a boost and I’ll copy the information.”

  “Jane, I don’t—”

  “Snakes.”

  He found himself looking at the ledge, his stomach tight. “How do you know?” He glanced back at her.

  She looked him straight in the eyes. “Big snakes. Remember that I saw one once.”

  “When you were a child.”

  “They breed, so there are probably more now.”

  He fisted his hands at his side. “I don’t care. It’s not safe, and I don’t want you to risk it.”

  “I also know the way better than you. I’m also lighter and will put less strain on the footholds. It would be far safer for me, since I’m familiar with the route and know how to climb much better than you—”

  “Bloody hell, all right! All right! Go.” He cupped his hands, she placed her foot in them, and he gave her a lift up the wall until she was well on her way. He was glad to see that she seemed to know exactly what she was doing. “My own sisters don’t argue as much as you do.”

  A sweetly uttered “Thank you” drifted back to him.

  She climbed with a surety that did little to ease his mind, though her footing choices were sure and her progress steady. Finally, she reached the ledge and awkwardly pulled herself around the outcropping.

  He scowled. “Be careful. Those rocks are—”

  She cried out.

  He was halfway up the ledge before he knew what he was doing. “Bloody hell!” His voice was harsh in the cold. “Is it a snake?”

  “No!” She looked back at him over her shoulder. She was flushed, a merry grin upon her face, her eyes alight.

  His heart quickened. He knew that look better than life itself. “You found something.”

  She nodded, her eyes glowing as she moved to stand on the small outcropping. “I’m going to copy it now.”

  He retreated back to the bottom of the ledge, watching as she began to scribble in her notebook while trying to balance on the outcropping. “For the love of Ra, hold on to something while you’re there.”

  “I can’t hold on and write, too.”

  “Jane, if you don’t hold on to something, I’m going to come up there and—”

  “Done.” She tucked her notebook and pencil in her pocket and began the climb back down.

  He watched her, noting how she easily navigated the climb, only slowing when the distance between handholds was almost too far for her. Finally she was within grasp, and he reached up to lift her the last few feet. With a sense of relief, he set her upon the ledge before him. “No snakes, eh?”

  “None.” She grinned. A thick tendril of hair had fallen from a pin and was now clinging to her cheek and neck, a smudge decorated her pert nose, while a thick wad of spiderweb clung to her shoulder like an epaulette.

  He brushed it off, aware of a stab of lust so clear and strong that it took his breath away.

  Meanwhile, Jane had tugged her notebook out of her pocket and was staring at it as if mesmerized. “Hurst?”

  “Yes?”

  “I know where the amulet is.”

  He froze, his fingers an inch from her shoulder as he locked gazes with her. “Where?”

  “Look at the etching. This is a Celtic cross and these—” She stabbed a dirty finger at a series of runes. “These are Nordic runes.”

  He took the notebook, fished his spectacles out of his pocket, and looked at her drawings. “Jane, didn’t you once tell me that there was a Viking grave on that island in the middle of the loch?”

  “Yes, at the foot of MacLeod’s Tower.” She frowned. “The amulet must be in the grave.”

  “You said the marker had been stolen?”

  “Yes, but the grave is still there. Or it was when I left.”

  Michael removed his spectacles. “I would wager a golden statue of Anubis that someone hid the amulet in that grave and took the marker to keep it from being found.”

  “Then it’s fortunate that I know where the marker used to be.”

  He held the notebook out so that the sunlight fell across the paper. “These runes are also the same markings as the ones on the onyx boxes. Bloody hell, they’re Nordic. Why didn’t I see that? I was so certain they were from Mesopotamia or Romanic or—hell, anything but Nordic.”

  “Sometimes we see what we want to see. But this”—she tapped the notebook with her finger—“is the end of it. Michael, in only a few hours, we could be holding the Hurst Amulet.” Her voice almost purred with pleasure, and Michael found himself leaning toward her. He couldn’t imagine another woman who’d so calmly stand before him, their skirts tied to one side, boots muddied, a streak of slime on one elbow, a smudge of unknown origin on their nose, and speak with such enthusiasm about a Nordic grave.

  And yet here she was. She understood the excitement of the find, the importance of each artifact and discovery.

  More than that, she managed all of that while being supremely unconscious of her beauty. It had been some days now that he’d realized that his indispensable assistant was just that—beautiful. Oh, not in the traditional, boring sense. No, Jane’s beauty was her own. It was made up of her no-nonsense gaze, her soft lips, which were all too quick with a sharp word, and her fascinating, never-ceasing-to-amaze-him mind.

  He now knew what was wrong with all of the women he’d once known. None of them had a mind as damnably sexy as Jane’s. Oh, some of them had been intelligent, but they’d lacked the sparkle, the genuine love of learning, that shone from every smile she’d ever smiled.

  And that smile was flashing now. “I can’t believe we found it! We’re as close to—”

  He kissed her. He hadn’t meant to, but her enthusiasm and true appreciation for their find got the better of him, and suddenly, he had to taste her. Had to touch her. Had to share her excitement.

  She threw herself into the kiss the second his lips touched hers, pressing her body to his. He slipped an arm about her waist and, leaning against the wall behind him, held her to him.

  She moaned, her hands tugging, seeking, trying to find purchase in his coat and shirt. She lifted a leg and hooked it about his.

  The movement was so sensual, so primal, that he had to clench his
jaw against reacting too quickly. He slid a hand to her hip, then to her leg, bared by the tie she’d used to pull her skirts aside.

  Her skin was cool beneath his fingertips as he slid his hand up her calf, to her knee, and then her thigh, where he lifted her higher still. She was now pressed against his straining cock, and he thrust his tongue between her lips, demanding more and receiving it.

  Jane couldn’t think beyond the incredible warmth that seemed to radiate off Michael. His hand where it rested against her thigh, his mouth that covered hers, even his neck where she was clutching him—all of him warmed her despite the chill of the cave. She leaned against him, rubbing her hips on his and enjoying the deep moan that answered her efforts as she—

  He straightened, breaking off the kiss with a suddenness that left her clinging to him. She blinked up at him, unable to think, much less stand.

  “Water,” he said in a grim voice.

  “Wha—” She looked down at her feet. Icy water lapped at her toes. “The tide. We must go!”

  “Have we waited too long?”

  “No. But there’s no time to lose.” She yanked the tie from her skirts and tucked it into her pocket, and then took out her gloves. “Follow me.”

  They left the tunnel much the same way they’d entered, Jane in front while Michael followed, one hand upon her waist. The water in the tunnel was up to their ankles by the time they reached the opening of the cave.

  Jane ducked out first, Michael behind her.

  She started to cross the small ledge to the rock when she came to an abrupt halt.

  Michael frowned. “What is it?”

  She pointed to where the boat had been. There, hanging on the brass ring, was a piece of rope, neatly sliced as if by the sharpest of knives.

  Jane turned a white face to Michael’s. “We’re stranded.”

  CHAPTER 17

  From the diary of Michael Hurst:

  Sometimes, the more you want something, the further away it seems. When those times come, I put my shoulder to the rock and push harder. The meek may inherit the earth, but only after the bold have died and left it to them.

  Michael let out a long string of vivid Egyptian curses.

  “Who would do this?” she asked.