“Easy, lass. I ken you're not above bribery. ” He came to the edge of the bed, basin in hand. “I've seen you dole out your wee packets of steak pie to the Saint Mach
ar lads, who, by the by, could do with a fair spot of glowering besides. ”
Stripping off his trews, he knelt before the bed, and excitement thrummed through her. Whatever did he have in mind? Slipping his hands beneath her calves, he pulled her to the edge of the bed. The thrumming intensified to fire crackling in her belly.
He stroked his hands up her legs, and with a gende squeeze, parted them. She lay naked before him, and the cool air on her bare skin made her breasts pull tight. The wickedness of it made her heart skip.
“Now, enough of your ships and your plans and your sass. ” He rubbed his thumbs in languid circles on the insides of her thighs. “You'd longed for a bath, and I'll not allow anyone to say I'm not a good man to my woman. ” His woman. She thought her soul would burst from her body, so exhilarating did that sound. “Your woman, am I?” Rather than answer, he studiously dipped the cloth in the water, a wicked grin cocking the corner of his mouth.
“You need to lie back, Ree. For the full effect, aye?”
She did as he told her, the thrill of it bringing a secret smile to her face.
She tensed at the first shocking touch of wet washcloth on skin. But the water was warm, his touch confident, and soon she relaxed into the bed. He began at her feet, massaging them, and the cloth was just rough enough not to tickle yet soft enough so as not to abrade. She gave a little hum of contentment.
Cormac methodically washed, rinsed the rag, and washed some more, and she gladly let him. She felt love in his touch, even if he hadn't yet spoken the words.
His woman. He'd called her his woman. But for how long?
“What's to come of us, Cormac?” she asked quietly.
She heard the tinkling of water wrung into the bowl. He rose and sat on the bed, swabbing the cloth along the side of her hip. “Come of us?”
“When all this is done. ” Her skin was cool where the damp cloth had touched her, but her blood pumped hot, her body responding to the rhythmic stroking of his hand along her torso. “We can't just go on as before. ” His eyes met hers, held them. “No,” he agreed at last, his voice a low rasp. “Not the same as before. ” She saw hesitation in his eyes. “But… ?”
“But I don't deserve you, Ree. Look at you,” he said, raking her body with his gaze. “You're a treasure. ” He pulled the edge of her gown from the floor, rubbing the rich fabric between his fingers. “For me, this” — he held up the hem and, even in the low light, it shimmered — “this is a masquerade. And yet this is what you deserve.
Wealth and finery. ” He tossed the dress back down. “You should have a handsome lord with an estate and a fleet of maids at your disposal. Not a poor fisherman living in a tumble of rocks. ” Cormac was so much more than a mere fisherman. It baffled her that he didn't see it. “What if I want a poor fisherman?”
He gave her a rueful smile. “Then you strike a poor bargain. ”
“In any case, money matters not. I've money from Humphrey. It simply doesn't matter. ” She stilled his hand with her own. “Cormac, don't you see? I'd live the rest of my days, happily raising our children in your tumble of rocks, if it meant we could be together. ”
Pain flashed across his face. “Children? How could I ever raise children? Christ, Ree, how could I, of all men, raise a son?”
“I think you'd do a fine job of it. ”
“Children,” he mused, raising his brows as though their existence had only just then occurred to him.
“Aye. ” She rolled onto her side to face him. “A house full of sons. With your dark hair, and your long, strong bones. They'd have your eyes. ”
She combed her fingers through his hair, drew them along the side of his cheek, his jaw. She wondered what held him back. Was it the thought of children that made him hesitate, or the thought of children with her? “Although they might have a touch of their mother in them, too,” she added, looking away. “Whoever she might be. ”
“But I already know the mother of my children. And I want them to have her eyes. ” Cormac's voice was husky with emotion. He cupped her cheek, bringing her gaze to his. Easing Marjorie onto her back, he leaned his body over hers. He studied her face, tracing a delicate line along the tops of her cheekbones, over her brows. “I'll have sons with eyes that are blue like jewels, vivid and bright. Eyes that see the good in the world. Eyes that smile.
Your eyes, Ree, my love. ”
He kissed her then, tenderly. Mending two hearts that had spent a lifetime broken.
Chapter 30
“What's to say a boy like Paddy won't be next?” Marjorie chewed a forkful of eggs with great enthusiasm.
Swallowing, she pointed her fork at Cormac. “I tell you, we must destroy that ship. ”
“Easy, Ree,” he said with a laugh. They sat on a love seat before the hearth, and he reached over their tray to grab her waggling fist. “No need to spear me with the cutlery. Fiona had enough to explain this morning, bringing her mistress such a heaping portion of food. Impaling me with the silver will do naught for our concealment. ” He took a bite of black pudding and chewed thoughtfully. “Criwens but your uncle Humphrey eats well. ”
“I've been thinking about this black powder,” Marjorie said abruptly. She snatched a triangle of toast, buttering it with great zeal. “How much would it take to explode an entire ship?”