Rogue Scot (Brethren of Stone 4)

The storm on the Saint Mary had been awful. It was nothing compared with this. Bridget and Mary lay in her bunk, holding on to each other and the frame of the bed for dear life. It went on for nearly an hour, Mary praying the entire time until the roll of the boat finally slowed.

Bridget looked up, had the storm abated? She could still hear the wind and the rain and the clouds, which she could see through her tiny porthole, were black as night, but the boat pitched less violently. Rising, she crawled along the floor until she reached the porthole. Using her hands along the wall to slowly stand herself, she peered out the window. Land. They’d reached a harbor.

Tears of relief pricked at her eyes. Matt had done this. He’d once again kept her safe. She pressed her forehead to the glass. She’d meant what she said. Somewhere along the way, he’d made her believe in people again. It had been so long since she’d trusted anyone, she’d nearly forgotten how. But now, it was her turn to help him.

How did she do that? He’d lost and now he didn’t want to open his heart for fear of losing again. She’d have to prove to him that he could care without being hurt. A knock at the door, pulled her from her thoughts. “We’ve made it to a harbor. We’ll wait out the storm.” Matt called from the other side.

She rushed to the door, nearly falling as the boat pitched. Swinging it open, he stood on the other side as though the boat didn’t move at all. “Thank you,” she murmured as she reached for his hand.

He drew her into his chest once again. “Ye’re welcome.” Then he kissed the top of her head. “I don’t know how long the storm will last but we can stay here until it ends.”

She nodded then slowly backed away. “I’m sure you have work to do.”

He gave a single nod. “Stay here where it’s warm and dry.”

Her mouth turned down as she watched him walk away. She wanted to be next to him. That was where she was safest.

Three hours later, the storm still blew, but the boat had calmed and Mary lay in her own bunk, snoring away. Bridget tossed and turned as she listened to the clomp of feet upon the deck. “G’night Captain,” one of the sailors called.

Bridget jumped out of bed. She knew she should stay in her cabin but she wanted to see him again. And so, she slipped open the door and snuck out into the hall just in time to watch Matt climb down the ladder. He turned toward her, likely heading for his room, a single candle lighting his way. He stopped as he caught sight of her. “What are ye doing?”

She nibbled her lip. “Today was awful. I just wanted to—” She didn’t bother to finish. Instead, she reached out her arms to him.

He came down the hell toward her and scooped her into his embrace. “Sweetheart, this isnae a good idea. I already told ye that I wouldnae marry.”

“I know.” She rubbed her cheek along his wet coat, the feel of the wool rough and scratchy but somehow comforting. “I’ll go back to my room in just a minute. I just wanted you to hold me. I was so frightened.”

He rumbled, she felt it as much as heard the sound and then he was pulling her down the hall. “Come with me.”

“Where?” she asked though she wasn’t sure she cared.

He stopped. “I was frightened too and scared I would lose you. I would lose us both.” He wrapped his arms about her and picked her up as he opened his door. “I’ve no right to ask this but can I hold you? I swear, I won’t touch you. Not in that way.”

She nodded, wanting to be close to him too. He closed the door and set her down, shrugging off his soaking jacket and tossing it on his desk. Then he picked her back up and lay her on the bed.

She caught her breath, as he perched above her, his strong arms on either side of her. She wasn’t frightened. Not even a little. She was safe, she was warm, and she was, most of all, excited. Her heart raced in her chest as she reached up her hand to touch his face.

It was absurdly dangerous, this behavior she was engaging in. She needed her dowry and to wed a good man who would care for her always, but those thoughts barely registered before they drifted aw

ay, drowned out by his fresh scent of ocean and rain, and the feel of his raw strength surrounding her.

He pressed his body to hers and his warmth seeped into her, filled her as her heart pounded near out of her chest. His nose brushed hers. “I wonder if it’s too late,” he murmured.

“Too late?” she asked as his lips came achingly close to hers. Her chin started to tilt wanting to taste him.

He brushed a hair back from her cheek. “My entire plan was to remain distant so as not to get hurt. But we are rather close now aren’t we?”

Did he mean physically? Or was he talking about their emotional connection? “I suppose we are.”

He finally touched his lips to hers, it was sweet and soft and left her desperate for more. “What you need is someone to shelter you from the harshness of the world. A harbor in a storm.”

“I suppose I do,” she said just before he kissed her again. “I thought I could be strong on my own but…” She stopped. “It’s nice to have help. Someone willing to aid Mary and provide for me.”

“And what will you provide in return?” he asked as he kissed her cheek and then slid his lips along her jawline to kiss the sensitive spot just behind her ear.

She let out a breathy moan, her hands winding into his hair. “All the things a wife can give. Children, a comfortable home, support, help wherever I can.”

“Will you promise to be safe?”