Untamed Hearts (A Highland Hearts Novella) (Entangled Edge) (2 page)

Will frowned, suddenly wanting to punch the fool lad who kissed her soundly. Three remained in line before him. He watched Jonet as she took a sip off her mug and chewed a bit of mint. A man rattled off a cutting phrase in Gaelic, and the last lad kissing her turned bright red.

The devil, he needed to learn this language. He already knew French and Latin and a few words from some of the islands in the Caribbean, but he’d never even thought to learn the Scot’s Gaelic.

Jonet kept her gaze away from him until he stepped up. Instead of grabbing the quill, he fished around in the leather bag he had strapped across his chest. He lobbed the pure gold sovereign into the air with a flick of his thumb. It cracked starkly against the wooden table and spun on its end, whirling.

“What can I get for this?” he asked softly, his voice a low rumble meant to coax a rush of heat through a woman. The gold coin wobbled and finally flattened.

She pinkened but held her saucy grin. “Just trading for kisses.”

He was already close, close enough to smell the early spring flowers in the wreath on her glossy hair. “Then I’m trading for a kiss,” he said low. He’d kissed a hundred women, knew just how to touch, how to stroke. She’d likely swoon from his talent.

Will closed the distance over the narrow table. He slid his hand through the heavy mass of ebony to gently hold her nape as his lips met hers. Mint and warmth and sweet, sweet woman. With a nudge, he slanted her face so that they slid against each other, deepening the kiss. She made a small mewing sound in the back of her throat and opened her lips a crack. It was all he needed.

Will’s strategic assault escalated as he tentatively tasted her mouth with his tongue. Would she flee? Instead, the woman opened more, inviting him in, touching him, returning the erotic kiss. Sultry heat coursed through him like flowing fire. The world disappeared as a whirlpool of sensation flooded him. He hauled her closer until she molded against his chest, and still they kissed. Her curves pressed against his hard torso. He could feel her warmth through the thin linen of his partly unlaced shirt.

The hoots from behind him were lost in the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears. He was only half-aware of the lighter-haired girl tugging on Jonet, and slowly, as if gliding up through warm, summer water off an island coast, Will surfaced and broke the kiss.

He held her there, so close their noses touched. Her breath came shallow as if she’d run a race, and he fought to smooth his own ragged inhale.
Hell!
Or rather, Heaven.

One finger at a time, he disentangled his hold on her soft nape. When he looked down, he realized that she sat upon the table. Had he dragged her across? He backed up as she wet her lips, her mouth open, and he almost dove back in for another taste. But as if she suddenly realized where she was, she slid quickly off, the barrier once again between them.

She cleared her throat, her gaze dropping as she scooped up the gold coin. “’Twill buy quite a few boots for the children.” She nodded in thanks, and it disappeared into her pocket.

Will waited for her to look up, to meet his eyes. Had he scared her?

“I’m Will,” he said and felt the man behind him try to move past. Will held his ground and the man cut over to Ann. “Will Wyatt.”

It worked. She had to meet his gaze in order to pretend the kiss hadn’t affected her. In a spine-straightening inhale, she lifted her bright green eyes, connecting with him. His breath hitched at the rich beauty before him. Golden fire radiated out from within the green. She blinked and tilted her head. “Well, Will Wyatt, if ye want another kiss, ye’ll have to pledge a day’s work at the orphans’ home.” Her saucy smile resurfaced.

Should he toss out another sovereign? Nay, kissing her out here before a hooting crowd wasn’t enough. He would have more. He leaned in and noticed she held her breath even though she kept the mask of a smile. His lips brushed her ear. “What do I have to pledge to get you to swive with me?”

Her inhale bordered on an outraged gasp as she straightened away. He didn’t retreat, just met her wide eyes with laughing ones of his own. What type of mettle was she made of? He doubted she was a whore, though she was trading kisses to a multitude of men. An orphans’ home certainly sounded like a worthy reason.

His smile expanded as he waited for an answer, and slowly her lips relaxed into a grin. “A lifetime of servitude, Will Wyatt,” she said, her tone even, one eyebrow raised. “That’s all.”

Will chuckled and slapped his hand down on the table. “Aye, you have it!”

Jonet started laughing and called out loudly. “Ho, someone fetch Father Daughtry! Will Wyatt has just asked me to wed!”

Chapter Two

Jonet Montgomery grinned at the dark-haired, strikingly handsome stranger even though her heart pounded out a beat faster than the steps of the sword dance. Will Wyatt. Who was he? He was taller than most of the Druim warriors and just as sculpted, from what she could easily see through his thin, linen shirt, left undone at the top to show an enticing
V
of tanned skin. His features were strong and finely chiseled. A scar along one side of his jaw and a bump to show a one-time broken nose boasted a warrior’s life. He was roguishly more handsome than most and possessed a quality that none of the Druim warriors had. He knew nothing of her past.

She shook her head and laughed at his wide, blue eyes. After his outrageous proposition, he deserved to be a little frightened of the consequences. And she could only imagine one thing that would worry such a fearsome warrior…the swaying noose of marriage.

“Is that what Eric needs to do to get ye before the priest, Jonet? Get up there, lad, and give her another kiss!” Donald yelled out, but Jonet kept her attention on the intense gaze of the stranger. It wasn’t a staring contest, but she felt almost tethered to his look, curious as to what shocking thing he might do next. The kiss had been scandalous enough, all hot and wet and slanting. And right there before the crowd. Thank the good Lord he’d kept his proposal close to her ear.

He opened his sensuous mouth to say something but then closed it again. A laugh bubbled from her lips. Had she punished him enough? Aye, perhaps. She winked at him and turned away to greet the next man in line. Luckily, the blemish-pocked young lad just gave her a peck. But next up was Eric.

“Aye, give a Druim warrior another chance, lass,” a friend of Eric’s called. The man switched to Gaelic. “No kisses for those who don’t belong here.” The man glanced at the pirate and crossed his arms over his broad chest. Eric grunted and heartily agreed.

Jonet hid her sigh in what she hoped was a kind smile. Poor Eric had asked her to wed with him just a fortnight ago, and she’d turned him down. She’d been married once when she was a maid of sixteen. Machar had been much older than she and died during a raid the following year. Since then, Jonet had been waiting for her grand knight to sweep her off her feet, and guarded against tying herself to another horrible man. Eric was not that knight.

“A kiss for a day’s work,” she said and leaned forward. Instead of the expected, sweet kiss on the lips for a count of five, Eric slid his hand through her hair, half dragging her across the table. His rough hold pushed her head to the side as he butted his tongue up against her clenched lips. Jonet grabbed his wrists and tried to wrench away, though she couldn’t move. She would’ve kicked him if she’d been before him instead of lying halfway across the table.

With an abrupt yank, Eric broke the attack. Jonet cursed and pawed her hair out of her face in time to see Eric hit the ground on his arse so hard he flipped backward to land stomach-down amongst the tall grass. Jonet held her breath and a hand across her mouth. Will stood beside the table, his hands in fists by his sides. The crowd stood quiet for several heartbeats as Eric pushed up onto his knees.

Will swiveled to look into the hard eyes of the Druim men. “Where I come from, if a woman pulls back, ye let her go.”

Hugh, captain of the guard, lifted Eric from the ground. “What goes on here?” he asked in Gaelic. Will looked at him but didn’t respond with words, though his hand moved to the curved sword strapped to his side.

“Eric was given the wrong impression,” Jonet answered in English and glanced at Will, the one responsible for the wrong impression. “That signing up for a day’s worth of work on the orphans’ home gave him permission to ravish my mouth.” She scrunched her face at Eric even though he was busy trying to glare a hole through Will.

“Ye’ll kiss a stranger like ye’re tupping him,” Eric defended, “but not one of yer clan. And then the rest of ye stand around and let him attack one of yer own.”

Caden strode briskly forward with Meg waddling behind him. “Looks like ye had it coming, Eric,” he said low. The chief of the Macbains took in the small group that had grown grim. “This is Will Wyatt, second in command of the
Queen Siren
and now a brother to Ewan.”

“Ewan?” Jonet asked. She scanned the crowd and saw him walking toward them. “Ewan Brody!” she yelled and circled the side of the table. She and Ann ran up to him and wrapped him in a three-way hug.

Ewan laughed and hugged back. Thunder rumbled overhead though the sun still shone, but Jonet didn’t care. Ewan was back and whole. “We’ve missed you,” she said and kissed him loudly. A snap of thunder sounded in the mountains behind Druim, making Jonet jump and several ladies scream as they hurried after their little ones.

Ewan caught her hands and took a full step back. He glanced over his shoulder. “They are just greeting me, Dory.” Jonet noticed a beautiful, slender, yet shapely woman with long, curling, blondish hair glaring like she wanted to slice her open.

“Dory,” Will said from behind Jonet, the name drawn out in a warning. Jonet thought she saw a small
sghian dubh
in the girl’s hand, but then it was gone.

God Lord, was she armed?

Ewan stepped back to the woman and pulled her into his side. “They are my friends, nearly like sisters.”

Sisters?
Well, they hadn’t been tupping friends, true, but she and Ewan had been a little more than brother and sister.

“Jonet, Ann, this is Dory Wyatt Brody, my wife.”

“I figured that from her last name being Brody,” Ann said and frowned. She’d had her heart set on wedding Ewan one day. Instead, it seemed he’d off and wed a foreign beauty who carried a hidden dagger and had a brother that could kiss a lass’s good sense clean out of her head.

Jonet smiled. “It’s good to see ye whole, Ewan. Caden wasn’t sure when ye’d be back and who,” her gaze shifted to Dory, “ye’d return with.” She bobbed her head. “Welcome to Druim, Dory Wyatt Brody.”

Dory’s face relaxed somewhat. “’Tis beautiful here.”

“Aye, ye’ve caught the Highlands on a bright day,” Jonet said, and silence sat for several heartbeats.

“So Will,” Ewan said, “been making friends?”

Several of the men watching the drama and introductions snorted. “He was becoming quite friendly with Jonet,” Donald said.

“And then yer new brother was making a
friend
out of Eric Douglas,” Gavin said and laughed. He pointed to Eric, trudging back by himself across the open meadow to the village.

Caden’s frown matched the one Ewan was giving Will.

Will shrugged. “I don’t stand for men forcing themselves on helpless maids.”

“Helpless?” Jonet said, her eyebrows rising.

Will shrugged. “You weren’t armed, and he was stronger than you and without discipline enough to let go.” He met her gaze evenly. “Helpless.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I was not—”

“I think,” Meg chimed in, “that the good men of Druim should work on the orphans’ home without the need for Jonet and Ann to provide them with kisses.” She squeezed onto Caden’s arm.

“Aye,” Caden agreed and glanced over the crowd. His voice boomed. “If ye haven’t already signed up for a day’s work, get yer name on there. No more kisses today.” Meg whispered in his ear, and he straightened. “That is,” he said loudly, “unless both parties want to.” He swooped down to seal his lips over Meg’s. The crowd hooted and laughed.

“I’m sorry,” Jonet whispered to Ann as they eyed Ewan’s bride. She hugged her friend when she noticed Ann’s eyes looking watery. “And sorry no more kissing today.”

Ann laughed a little as they walked arm in arm to the parchment at the table. Jonet tried not to listen to see if Will Wyatt would follow. “Aye,” Ann said. “’Twas the only time Donald would let anyone get close to me.”

“I wish I had a brother that looked out for me so,” Jonet said, and Ann snorted.

“Ye can have him for a spell.”

Jonet turned and nearly smacked into the mountain of male standing before her. The sea pirate had indeed followed. The thought sparked her pulse into another race. She looked up into his face, his chin-length hair a drape around his features as he studied her.

“I did not mean to put an end to all your kisses,” he said. Och, that voice, that deep, rumbling voice like pebbles under velvet. “But he wasn’t letting you go.”

“And I was helpless,” she replied, an annoyed nip to her words. She turned back to Ann, who gave her a wide-eyed look. Jonet motioned for Ann to help her move the table and attempted to lift the one side.

“You should carry a dagger.” Will followed her, hefting the oak table himself. Jonet’s breath hitched as his muscles bulged under the weight, the thin shirt barely containing all that strength.

“I don’t need a dagger.” She held her skirts to trudge through the dry, winter-dead grasses and new spring flowers toward the village. She passed him to lead the way.

“Can you bring lightning down on a man or sweep him away in a twister?” he asked from behind.

“Ha!” she threw back over her shoulder and kept going. Where? She wasn’t sure, but he kept following. She’d lead him to the orphans’ home where the table belonged.

“Is that a yes or a no?” His tone was serious.

Lord, how he teased! She turned around to pierce him with her gaze. “Of course not! But those lads there wouldn’t have let any real harm come to me. I don’t need to carry a dagger around here. Druim is my home.”

“They weren’t jumping in fast enough,” he said.

Jonet frowned and veered to the right, down a path toward the far outskirts of the village that faced the moor. She could hear his footfalls behind her. Och, he was actually keeping up even with the heavy, oak table under his arm.

“’Tis dangerous for a girl to put her trust in a group of men to protect her,” he continued, quite insistent about the point. “You should be able to defend yourself.”

Jonet pushed open the door to the large, two-roomed cottage that had been vacated nearly twenty years ago. She’d cleaned out all the musty rushes and broken furniture, but there was still much to be done, starting with the leaky roof. She pointed to a spot under a window where the table belonged. He set it down and turned as if to leave. Jonet heard the door click shut. She pivoted and caught her breath.

Will leaned against the only exit, looking even larger in the nearly empty room. The flutter in her stomach wasn’t fear, exactly. She wet her lips where his gaze seemed to fasten.

“You could find yourself in jeopardy,” he said low.

She swallowed. “From you?” Her gaze flitted to the shuttered windows. She’d led him to an empty house on the edge of town. No one had followed them. They were completely alone. He seemed to be waiting, perhaps for her to realize her foolishness.

He slowly shook his head. “Nay, not from me, but you don’t really know that, now do you? And what if I was that Eric lad, following you to this lonely house? Those other warriors aren’t here to pull him off you as you say they would.”

“He got carried away after watching ye,” she said. “Normally, no one would need to be pulled off me.” Her heart thumped wildly. From danger or from the way he gazed straight into her eyes, she wasn’t sure. He looked like he didn’t believe her. “And if I screamed, someone would come running.”

He frowned. “Waiting for a knight to rescue you is not a good plan. They tend to be late.” He drew a dagger from his leather boot.

Jonet’s eyes widened, and he held out his other hand, palm out. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just saying…you’re too damn beautiful to
not
know how to protect yourself.”

Damn beautiful?

He kept talking. “You need to learn to throw this, in case that knight doesn’t show up when some slimy letch decides to have a go with you.” He snapped his wrist and sent the small knife tumbling through the air. It pierced the table with a
thunk
. “I’ll teach you.”

“I…” she started but had to inhale around the narrowness of her throat. “I need to get back.”

He immediately stood aside and opened the door for her. His heat slid across her arm as she grazed him on the way out, and she inhaled on instinct. Clean, fresh, minty with a hint of spice radiated from him. It was already familiar to her, beckoning her.
Foolish!
She stepped briskly from the doorway. She heard his boots grinding into the pebbles behind her.

Jonet pivoted. “Are ye following me?” Och, he was more gorgeous every time she looked at him. The sun shone down between the cottages to glint across his dark brown hair. She blinked.

Will turned in a tight circle. “It’s either follow you back to the festival or wander aimlessly through a mostly deserted village that I know nothing about.”

Jonet pursed her lips and turned as her face flushed hot. She spotted Ann coming across the field with a small parade of children. Ann waved and then let the littlest one, who had started to wiggle, slide down. The wee lass had reddish curls and ran toward them, her smile bright.

“Will! Will!” she called and flew past Jonet to clasp Will’s legs. He chuckled and scooped her up to place her on his shoulders. She latched onto his head, her legs crossed at the ankles under his chin.

Ann caught up with the older boy and girl. “Will Wyatt, yer children were looking for ye.”