The Jezebel (Taskill Witches 3)

He stayed inside her as long as he could, his cock painfully sensitive to each flex and ripple her body made. When he kissed her, her lips parted under his, defying her captivity to share the pleasure a moment longer. In the aftermath, he clutched her close to him, unwilling to break with the moment, to address the problems that surrounded them.

Roderick craved her as he had craved nothing before, and it broke him apart inside to have to keep her this way. Kissing her face, he held her gently against him, cosseting her the only way he could.

He lowered her to the floor. “You are safer here.”

When she started to deny him he covered her lips with his fingers. “The men are unhappy, and when they get like this they are a law unto themselves. I would lay down my life to protect you, Maisie.” He paused when she shook her head, but it was true. “I would. Please don’t disbelieve me.”

“I don’t. I’ve always been able to tell you were honest with me. It is your men you have been vague with since I came aboard.”

Clarity shot through his mind, and he felt a queer pain when he realized how wily she was. Every bit as wily as the men said, in fact. And yet he still loved her. Yes, it was love, he did not deny that. He had fallen for a troublesome woman indeed.

“Then you will believe me when I say that I’ll ensure your safe delivery into Scotland, as I promised at the outset.” Forcing himself to draw back, he continued with caution. “I will come down to check on you often, and when we near the Tay estuary I will row you to land myself.”

“You said you would hand me over to the magistrate.”

He shook his head, then pulled his breeches into place, securing them. “No. That is for the men’s peace of mind. I will free you before that time.”

For a moment he cradled her cheek in his palm, and she turned her face, kissing his callused hand. Roderick braced himself. “I’ll ask this question once more, because it plagues me most. Tell me the truth now, were you weaving spells when we bedded together?”

“No. But I cannot deny our match made me stronger. It is the way of my kind. We ally ourselves to the natural world and the powers incarnate there. These are particularly powerful in the act of lovemaking.”

Roderick remembered the first time, how hot the cabin had become. It was not just a virgin becoming a woman, it was a witch riding high on the magic she felt.

“It was strong because we are a...a good match.” She bent her head, growing silent.

At first he thought she had become suddenly ashamed of her lusty ways, but then he realized she was thinking of something.

“I told you that I’d been split from my kin when my mother suffered a cruel and horrible death.”

“Yes.”

“She was called out as a witch.” Maisie’s voice broke on the words, her lower lip trembling. “Much as I was, up there.” She jerked her head toward the decks above.

Roderick could not stand it when tears spilled from her eyes. He felt her pain. Why he felt it so intensely baffled him, but he wanted to ease it. He held her jaw in his hands, lifting her face, and kissed each salty tear away. “Hush, you are safe. I will not let my men hurt you.”

“I know.” She nodded. “And I understand you must keep me here.”

When she looked at him, Roderick drew away. He did not trust his own promises, when she might yet try to escape him by magic.

Dragging a sack of root vegetables closer, he stationed it behind her so that she might sit upon it and make herself more comfortable. Then he went to retie the blindfold.

He paused when she whispered his name.

“Roderick...” She shook her head then, as if she’d thought better of what she’d been about to say.

“I must cover your eyes again and keep you bound. It isn’t because I want it that way, you know that. But if I don’t the men will suspect, and they will turn on us both. Bide your time and I will come to you and take you ashore by rowboat. I will set your feet on Scottish soil, just as I promised the night we met. That has not changed.”

“Oh, Roderick.” She hung her head. “Forgive me for being angry.”

“You were afraid.”

She nodded.

Roderick took one last look at her beautiful eyes, then covered them. He left the lantern where it was docked and headed for the door.

Before he stepped out he stared across at her, a tortured young woman, so slight, so feminine. Yet he had seen her power, and even though he believed she would not harm him, there was still so much he didn’t know about her. In the space of just a few days she had filled his mind, body and heart. That didn’t seem right, and he couldn’t shake the feeling it was just as the men had said, that he’d been blinded by her. That’s what women did, anchoring men to them, instead of to their own destiny.

As he looked over at her he had the strangest feeling he might never see her again, and it crossed his mind that she could vanish by magic. Would that be for the best? Maybe, but he couldn’t accept it.