Stolen By The Scottish Rogue (Kilts & Kisses 2)

“Not a damn clue,” I mutter, my arm tightening around Ailith. “But I think we got our miracle.”

Suddenly, Ailith stiffens, gasping sharply.

“Malcolm!”

My eyes follow her pointing finger, and I stiffen.

Seven hells.

Tor’s ships are attacking Carlson alright. All of them, that is, except one—except Tor’s very own ship, with the extra red sail and the black Valkyrie painted across the bow.

And that ship?

…That one’s moored off in the shadows to the side of my castle, where no one’s paying attention. And there on the shore, barely visible, is a landing skiff.

“Oh hell—”

“Tor,” I say thinly, my voice like ice as I glance at Callum.

“He’s already inside the—”

“Malcolm.”

Callum nods, and when I whirl back, my eyes narrow at the shape moving silently out of the shadows by the western wall of the castle, right where I know there’s a hidden escape door into the cellars of Carrick Castle. The large shape strides with purpose, alone, back to the small skiff, and I watch as the man begins to shove the craft back into the waves.

“That’s Tor.”

The words are cold as they leave my lips, and my eyes narrow. Next to me, I can feel Ailith shudder, clutching close to me, and even Callum draws a breath. But there’s no denying it—the hulking, huge size of the man, the broad shoulders with the fur-lined cloak. The massive war helmet with the twin curved horns.

Forget why his ships seem to be defending my island. The real question is, what in the devil is Tor Odinson doing sneaking out of my castle, alone.

The three of us watch silently as the massive Viking rows his skiff back out to his longboat. The sails tighten, oars are shoved into the water, and the big warship begins to sweep out of the side-bay to join the main battle.

…The main battle which is basically over.

Carlson’s remaining ships are waving white flags, and as Tor’s ship slices through the flaming waves and out into the bay, the rest of his marauders seem to follow. And we watch as the crimson red sails sail off out into the darkness of the sea.

“The hell was he—”

“I don’t know and right now, I don’t care,” I growl, pulling Ailith close and leaning down to kiss her head.

Callum nods, raking his fingers over his squared jaw.

“I’ll find your captain and make sure the castle is secured. Your ships can clean up the rest of Carlson’s forces.”

I nod, taking a breath before I clap Callum on the back.

“Thank you, my friend.”

Eventually, I’m dressed and down with my men, securing our walls, and helping to round up Carlson’s men who survived the Viking attack. Lord Carlson himself is apparently back on the mainland like a true coward, but I make a point of sending ravens out to every lord of the highlands I can even remotely call ally. I don’t play down the fact that I’ve take Ailith as my bride. But then, she was never his, and they were never married.

The short of it is, if Carlson decides to continue his attacks on me and mine, he’ll be more outnumbered than he knows what to do with. That and the fact that most of the men I know fought and lost brothers in the Crusades fighting against armies of paid mercenaries and have little regard for a man who pays others to fight his battles means I don’t think I’ll be hearing anything but a humble apology from the man.

After all of that though, hours later, I’m back with my Ailith.

It may very well be the middle of the damn night, or somewhere in the early morning, but we’re both up and awake. I kiss her slowly, scooping her into my arms out on the terrace overlooking my castle and the bay—moonlight and the last remnants of the flaming hulks of Carlson’s boats out on the water sending flickering light across her skin.

“Not the wedding night I was planning for,” I growl lowly, kissing her bottom lip and running my tongue across it as I cup her face.

Ailith grins, her green eyes sparkling as she looks up at me.

“No? And here I was so impressed at the lengths you’d gone to for a memorable evening.”

I chuckle, pulling her close as I kiss her slow and deep.

“Your friends were okay?”

Carlson’s forced barely made it to shore, let alone breaching my walls. And the Vikings never landed at all. Still, the shadowy figure who I’m sure was Tor himself leaving my castle under darkness, alone, still has my senses tingling.

Ailith nods. “They are. Una was with Hamish of course, and Cat…” She frowns, shaking her head. “Well, Cat said she had ‘plenty of protection,’ when I saw her, but she was vague. Your guards, I assume?” She shrugs.

“And Rhona?”

Ailith has previously mentioned how shaken her auburn-haired friend was after Tor’s attack on Hamish’s castle at his and Una’s wedding. Having Vikings show up again couldn’t have been good for her.