Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“ I seabail!” Owen screamed, watching her fly overboard, only to be swallowed up by the tumultuous waves that had men jumping from the ship.

“We’re going tae hit the rocks. We’re going tae hit the rocks,” someone roared.

Owen no longer cared what happened to the boat, and without a second thought, he threw himself into the water. There were men already thrashing about him, yelling and screaming in terror. It was utter turmoil, and fighting against the tide, he headed for the area he had seen Iseabail go under.

Diving under the water, he tried to see her, but the salt strung his eyes. Besides, there were so many others about him, legs kicking, and pieces of the boat already breaking apart, he could see nothing that was helpful.

With strong strokes, he swam past those around him. Some reached out in panic, trying to grab hold of him, but Owen pushed them off with great strength. He needed to find Iseabail before it was too late.

Spinning his head back and forth, something familiar caught his eyes, but at the sight of it, his heart nearly stopped, for all he could see was a still body being tossed hither and thither. Swimming towards it, he grabbed an arm and seeing her face, her eyes closed, and her body motionless, Owen panicked as despair washed over him.

“Nay”

Wrapping a strong arm around her body, he swam to the rocks with the other, every stroke battling against the raging waves that threatened to swallow them both whole. But he could not let that happen. Iseabail could not die. He simply would not allow it. He had to save her. He had to.

As exhausted as he was when he reached the rocks, he used every ounce of strength he had left to drag himself and Iseabail out of the water. But he would not give up. The terror of what he had experienced left him as he lay her down and shook her.

“Iseabail! Iseabail!” he bellowed. “Wake up. Ye cannae give up on me now.”

But she still remained completely motionless. Bending over her, he grabbed her body and pulled her up into his chest. Holding her tightly, and on the verge of sobbing, he rocked her back and forth.

“Please, Iseabail. Ye cannae leave me now. Nae now.”

A couple of seconds later, she began coughing and spluttering, and looking down at her, Owen watched as water spurted from her mouth.

“Och, me God,” he gasped. “Ye’re alive.”

Iseabail continued to cough for a minute more, and then she took great intakes of breath. Her skin was pale, strands of hair stuck to her face, and her clothes were soaked through, but she was alive.

Owen wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest.

“Thank ye,” he cried, looking upward. “Thank ye.”

In that second, Owen knew what he had been denying to be true. He was in love with this woman. The idea that he might lose her had nearly killed him, and no doubt, had she not survived, he would not have cared if he did either. But she was alive, and now he had to protect her with his life.

When she gazed up at him, she looked both bewildered and terrified. Turning her head, she gazed about her as other men lay on the rocks, some exhausted and terrified, some barely moving.

“Och, me God,” she gasped. She then began trembling uncontrollably.

“Come on. We need tae get ye inside.”

Lifting her in his arms, he carried her across the rocks, and after struggling over the jagged stone, the terrain beneath his feet changed to grass, and then, a trail that was clearly well walked.

Stumbling, placing one foot after the other, he continued on, until eventually, buildings came into view, and Owen realized they had found a village.

“Let me walk, Owen,” Iseabail said, her lips shivering. “Ye are exhausted. I can walk.”

Gently he lowered her down to the ground, and upon arriving at the first tavern they found, they hurried into it, receiving many strange looks from all those inside.

“The boat crashed on the rocks,” Owen announced.

Shocked faces and gasps came from everyone, and then the innkeeper, a short, rotund balding man, hurried round the bar and upon reaching them, guided them to the fire.

“Stay there and get warm. I’ll get ye blankets and a wee dram.”

A small crowd gathered around them with many questions. Owen relayed what had occurred, and there were murmurings of how many others might have survived.

The innkeeper returned with blankets and glasses of whisky, and worriedly handed them to Owen and Iseabail.

“We’re going tae need a room,” Owen said, wrapping the blanket around Iseabail’s trembling body.

“Aye, o’ course,” the man replied, hurrying away again.

“We have tae carry on the search,” Iseabail protested, her lips quivering as she spoke.

“Iseabail,” he sighed. “Look at ye. Ye’re soaked tae the skin, and ye’re shivering from head tae toe. The search can wait. Ye nearly died. Dae ye nae understand that? Ye need warmth, food and rest.”

Surprisingly, she didn’t argue with him. Perhaps it was the mention of her near-death experience that brought it home to her, but Owen could not know.

The innkeeper returned with a key, and Owen asked for hot water to be brought to the room for a bath.

“I’ll send the maid right away,” he replied.

“Thank ye,” Owen said.

With the heat from the fire and the shot of whisky, Owen could feel his strength returning, but looking at Iseabail, he could not say the same. With his arm around her shaking body, he helped her up the stairs, one slow step at a time. When they reached the room, he was glad to see yet another fire blazing in a large hearth.

“Now, let’s get ye out o’ these wet clothes.”

Iseabail stood before him, trembling with cold, but Owen also imagined, she was suffering shock at what had happened. Almost numb to what was going on around her, she allowed him to undress her, one item at a time. To maintain her dignity, he wrapped the blanket around her when it came to taking her undergarments off, and as she gripped the blanket, her knuckles white with cold, he slipped his hands beneath the covering and untied her shift, letting the soaking garment fall to the floor.

Several minutes later, two maids arrived with buckets of water, and after emptying them into the tin bath, they hurriedly left the room.

“Come on, Iseabail,” he said, guiding her gently over to it.

Leaving the blanket around her shoulders, he held her hand while she stepped, one leg at a time into the bath. Only as she lowered herself in, did he finally toss the blanket on the floor. Even as the hot water surrounded her, she still shivered, but tearing a linen towel in two, he made a makeshift cloth, and kneeling beside her, dipped the cloth into the water and squeezed it over her back as she leaned forward and rested her chin on her knees, hugging her legs tightly.

The shivering calmed after a little while, and turning her eyes to gaze at him, Iseabail said, “Thank ye fer looking after me.”

Owen smiled tenderly at her. “I’m repaying the favor.”

Iseabail frowned.

“I ken ye were trying tae distract me in the boat earlier with yer story about the frog.”

She smiled then, and nodded.

“Well, I can tell ye one thing,” he continued. “Once we get back tae the mainland, I swear I’ll never set foot in a boat again.”

Iseabail rewarded him with a broad grin, and then the smile faded, and she sighed heavily. He could only imagine that her being tossed overboard and nearly dying was playing heavily on her mind, and he wondered how he might now distract her as she had earlier distracted him.

“Did I ever tell ye why I started fighting? Why I needed the money?”

Iseabail looked up at him again and shook her head.

“I’m nae a gambler, and I dinnae usually mak’ deals I cannae honor. But I did find meself in a bit o’ a predicament while on a scouting mission fer me faither. In a tavern one night, I came upon a group o’ rather unsavory men. I spent an evening playing cards with them, trying tae get information, but the more whisky they drank, the looser their tongues became.”

All the while he was speaking, Owen continued soaking the cloth and trickling the warm water across Iseabail’s back.

“One let slip that they needed tae get back and check on the lass, and an argument ensued among them. One was happy tae leave her tae rot, the other mentioned that they wouldnae get coin if they did. Wary that I was going tae embroil meself into something I shouldnae, I just couldnae help meself. When I asked them who the lass was, it quickly became apparent that they were up tae nay good.”

“Who was she?” Iseabail asked, her brow furrowed.

“They had stolen her from her parents, and they were keeping her captive until they could find a buyer,” Owen said, feeling the same heavy feeling now that had infected him when he had originally heard their intent.

“Och, me God,” Iseabail gasped.

Owen nodded. “So, I had nay choice. I couldnae leave without helping her. I told them I’d be interested, and as much as they were suspicious, they were far too greedy tae follow their gut. That very night, we agreed a price, and then we arranged tae meet the following day. When they arrived, it took all the will I had tae hide me shock, fer she was young, nay more than four and ten. Her clothes hung on her body, she was filthy, and she shook with terror.”

The water was getting cold, and noting bumps rising on Iseabail’s skin, Owen said, “Tis time ye got out o’ that bath. Come on and sit by the fire.”

He grabbed a linen towel and held it up to hide her nakedness from him, and once she was out and wrapped in it, he grabbed the blanket he had tossed to the side earlier and wrapped that around her shoulders. With a gentle grip, he then guided her to the rug before the fire.

“Sit there and get warm,” he instructed.

“Only if ye sit with me,” Iseabail said.

Glancing at the space beside her, he nodded, and then lowered himself down. He reached over and threw another log on the fire. Sparks flew up into the chimney, and a crackling sound danced about them as the flames licked at the new tinder. Darkness had now fallen, and the room was lit only by the light of the fire. His clothes were not entirely dry yet, and now Owen could feel it, he was grateful for the warmth he felt on his skin.

“So? What happened then?” she asked, eager to hear the rest of the tale.

“I told them I had tae have a good look at her before I parted with any coin, and so, they brought her closer tae me. The poor lass was terrified, her eyes darting from me tae the man still standing beside her. I lifted her arms, and spun her around, pretending tae examine me prize, and then looking like I was satisfied, I nodded. I didnae let go o’ her wrist, and taking her with me, I told them I would fetch me coin from me horse.”

“But ye didnae pay them,” Iseabail said.

He shook his head. “I lifted her ontae the horse and pretended tae search in me saddle bags. Clearly, the one who had brought her tae me was getting suspicious, and began walking over tae us. I whispered tae the lass tae get ready, and in a swift movement, I mounted me steed and high tailed it out o’ there. They gave chase, o’ course, but me horse is fast and powerful, and after a half hour had passed, I could see nay sign o’ them.”

Iseabail continued to gaze at him with wide eyes. “Did ye bring her back tae the castle?”

“Nay,” he replied, shaking his head. “We travelled fer a full day, and I found a tavern. Her name, I discovered, when she realized I was there tae dae her nay harm, was Catherine. I clothed her and fed her, and then a few days later, when I knew for certain we hadnae been followed, I found the village healer. She took Catherine in, dressed some superficial wounds, and promised me she would take care o’ her until she was fit tae go and find the family she had been stolen from. It was a few weeks later when I found out I was a wanted man.”

Iseabail snaked a hand from out of her blanket and rested it on Owen’s arm.

“Ye are a good man, Owen. I cannae imagine what that lass might have suffered had ye nae done what ye did.”

“Aye. It’s taunted me dreams many a night,” he sighed.

“Ye have a good soul. Far better than I even think ye ken. Me maither died giving birth tae what would have been me younger sister. Had it nae been fer ye saving me this day, I might have seen them both far sooner than I imagined. Truly, I am grateful fer ye saving me life.”

Iseabail then reached up to him and tenderly kissed his cheek. “Thank ye.”

Taking her hand in his, Owen gazed down at her. “Ye terrified me today, Iseabail. When ye were lying on those rocks, lifeless, I thought I’d lost ye fer good. It made me realize something.”

“What?” she breathed, gazing back at him with the same intensity.

“I dinnae want tae pretend that kiss never happened. ‘Tis the only thing I’ve been able tae think about.”

Iseabail’s eyes widened at his words.

“I ken. I lied,” he continued. “I pretended it didnae matter tae me, but ye’re nay fool, Iseabail. Ye’re bound tae ken it did.”

Iseabail inclined her head knowingly. “I ken that it mattered tae me,” she admitted.

Owen turned toward her then, and cupping her cheek, he lowered his lips to hers. In response, Iseabail pushed herself to her knees, and as the blanket fell from her shoulders, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Her lips felt soft against his, but as his desire grew, Owen wanted so much more. Slipping his tongue inside her mouth, he roved about, wrapping his around her own, tasting her sweetness. Desperation rose between them, and panting, he could not seem to get enough of her. When she had compelled him, he had felt like he might die if he didn’t kiss her. This time, that feeling was simply evoked from his own desire.

Moving from her mouth, his lips trailed against her throat, Iseabail gasping and moaning in pleasure.

“Ye’re so beautiful, Iseabail,” he growled against her skin. “I want ye so badly.”

Pulling away from her, he tugged at his plaid, and after unwrapping it from his body, Iseabail curled her fingers around the bottom of his tunic and tugged it up, telling him what she desired. Helping her, he pulled it over his head, and heard a soft gasp leave her throat.

Gazing at his muscular form with parted lips, her fingers trailed across his solid frame, and then leaning forward, she laid gentle kisses on his chest.

Owen wrapped his arms around her, and with ease, for she barely weighed anything at all, he lifted her off her knees and softly laid her onto her back. Gently, he tugged at the towel that still remained wrapped around her body, and as her nakedness was revealed to him, his breath caught in is throat.

“Och, me God,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

His eyes travelled down her body, taking in the slenderness of her throat, the prominent collar bones, dressed in her soft skin, her soft round bosoms and her pert nipples. Taking her all in, his gaze continued over the flatness of her stomach, until he finally came upon the dark-haired apex of her thighs.

“Look at ye,” he murmured. “Ye are the most exquisite thing I have ever laid me eyes upon.”

Iseabail smiled bashfully, and though he could hardly tell, for the heat of the fire had reddened her face, he was certain she blushed at his words.

“I want ye, Iseabail. But nae without yer permission.”

Looking up at him with sparkling eyes full of affection and desire, she nodded. “I want ye too.”

He lay his hands on either side of her, supporting his weight, and then slowly, he lowered his head to one of her pert nipples. Catching it with his tongue, he heard her gasp. He gazed up at her, watching her eyes close as she lost herself, his tongue flicking her nipple over and over again.

He moved to the other breast, and repeated the same, all the while feeling his manhood growing between his legs. He did want her, and now, with her say so, he was going to take her. But first, he had to make her ready for him.

“I need tae ken, Iseabail,” he said, as he trailed kisses across her stomach. “Am I the first?”

He looked up at her again, and though she looked embarrassed, she nodded.

“Very well. Then I want tae ready ye fer me.”

He parted her legs and slipped his fingers down over her soft hair. Immediately, he felt her slickness, which made him growl with delight.

“Och, I can see that ye want me, mo ghrádh geal ,” he growled, slipping his fingers inside of her. His thumb found the tiny nub he knew so well. While his fingers slid in and out of her wet tightness, his thumb caressed the nub that he knew would bring her so much pleasure.

“Oh, me God,” she gasped, her hips writhing in some crazed fashion, pushing herself against him.

Lost in the passion of the moment, Owen was delighted that she had remained innocent and untouched. Proud, in fact, that he was the first man to show her what pleasure her body contained within it.

He continued, stretching her a little more as his fingers slid deeper, back and forth, while his thumb rubbed against her, over and over.

“Och, God. Och, God,” she gasped, arching her back.

She was panting now, and he could already feel her tightening around him. He knew a woman’s body well, and in his expertise, plucked from her the pleasure she had never before experienced.

She was close now, for she was barely breathing, her body tensing, sitting on the peak of her explosion. A few seconds later, he felt her contract around his thick fingers, and from above him, Iseabail let out a delighted squeal.

“Och. Och. Ah.”

Her body spasmed as his thumb continued, wanting to make sure he drained every second of pleasure from her, but then, she suddenly pressed her legs together, and he knew she could take no more.

Kissing his way up her body, he gazed down at the serene smile that danced across her face as she lay on the rug. The fire crackled beside them, their bodies no longer needing its heat.

“I want tae be inside ye, Iseabail. But I dinnae want tae hurt ye.”

She gazed up at him, a flash of fear crossing her face. But it was gone as quickly as it arrived, and reaching out and gripping his thick arms, she said, “I want ye inside me. Please, Owen. Please.”

While he was scared of hurting her, he had worried that her fear would stop this going further. Her words gave him such delight that he lowered himself to her and brushed his lips across hers.

Steadying himself with one hand, he released his manhood with the other.

“I’ll be as gentle as I can. I promise.”

She nodded, not taking her eyes off him.

Moving his body between her legs, he slowly lowered his hips and guided himself inside of her. Immediately, her warm slickness stretched to accommodate him, and a low moan left his throat.

“Och, Iseabail,” he growled. “Ye’re so warm, and wet and ready fer me.”

Reaching up, she gripped his shoulders as he slowly moved back and forth. He growled and moaned, over and over, as pleasure rushed through him, up his legs and into his groin. Still, he remained slow and steady, fearing that he would hurt her.

But Iseabail sensed he was holding back, and gripping his shoulders tighter, she pressed her hips up and into him.

“I want all o’ ye.”

Thrusting his hips a little further forward, Owen let go just a little more, and as the euphoria built within him, he struggled to hold back much longer. Soon, his rhythm changed, and he pushed himself deep inside of her. His eyes were closed, lost in his ecstasy when he heard a gasp.

He looked down at her, her face pained, but as though she feared he might stop, she pleaded him with her eyes, rising up to meet him.

He was close now; he could feel himself building and building. The crescendo would soon be upon him, and as his hips thrust into her, over and over again, he could feel her tightening around him.

“Och, me God,” she cried, her body trembling beneath him.

His body shook too, as the powerful sensation took him over.

They were both lost now, moaning, panting, and gasping together. Iseabail climbed with him, and once more, her body spasmed as he felt her warmth contract around him. She let out a huge squeal, and Owen followed with a roar as he finally exploded and emptied himself inside her.

Dropping down onto the rug beside her, he slipped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her onto his chest. Their bodies wet with sweat, the two lay there, heaving and panting for air, their hearts pumping from the exertion, and pleasure and euphoria of the deepest connection Owen had ever felt before in his life.

He knew now for a certainty, that he could not live his life without Iseabail in it. He blankly refused. He had not been looking for love, but the gods, catching him unawares, had sent him an angel from heaven.

Holding her close to him, he tenderly kissed the top of her head, and then, he growled. “I’m nae letting ye go, Iseabail. Nae now, nae ever.”