A Howl for a Highlander

Page 24

She was even talking about canceling their pirate cruise, but he wasn’t going along with that. He was going to make her walk the plank. He’d never known anyone who didn’t feel intimidated when he was on a rampage. Yet, he saw the sorrow in her eyes, the tears ready to spill when he said she had to leave. He didn’t want her to leave, damn it. But he worried about her safety.
Hotheads like Kenneth could easily turn on Shelley as a way to get to Duncan. He didn’t fear for his own safety, but Shelley was a different story.
When they finished their ice cream, he escorted her to the harbor, which was within walking distance, his hand around her arm, his body close. He’d changed into the swim trunks in the restroom, and Shelley was already wearing her bathing suit underneath her jeans and T-shirt. He was curious about how sexy it might be. She insisted it was family fare, repeating that it had a billowing skirt, pants down to her knees, and a high neckline.
Thankfully, the dessert seemed to soothe her anger. But he knew that if he brought up the subject of her leaving the island, she’d be angry with him again.
As soon as they got on the pirate ship—with the crew taunting the passengers and teasing with their made-up scripts—the boat was on its way. The cannon fired, the mainsail was hoisted, and a mixture of sweet rum and punch was served to everyone since there were no children on the cruise.
Before long, the pirates were brandishing swords and presenting a mock fight among comrades. Duncan shook his head, thinking how much training the men needed if they were going to pull off a real sword fight. Unable to stand it any longer, he strode forth, seized one of the pirates by the shoulder, and said, “Here, lad, let me show you how it’s really done.”
The Spanish-looking man was tough and big and mean looking, but he gave a pirate’s grin, one tooth appropriately painted gold, and handed Duncan his sword with a low bow.
He had style, Duncan thought. He also didn’t figure Duncan knew as much as he did about sword fighting, but the pirate was willing to allow Duncan the opportunity to make a fool of himself.
Duncan swung the pirate’s toy sword in the air at no one in particular, measuring its puny weight and reach before he showed the pirate crew a thing or two.
All the pirates watched him with glittering eyes and smirks plastered on their smug faces. He knew they intended to get him back, if he allowed it. The passengers observed in fascination. He figured some wondered if he was part of the show.
For now, everyone was waiting with bated breath to hear what the master swordsman had to say.
“First…” he said, taking a stance, his feet apart for balance. He was used to fighting on ground that did not tilt and roll like the pirate’s ship did. “You do not wave your sword around in fancy maneuvers with unnecessary flourishes. You strike your opponent’s with balance and boldness.”
He thrust and the Spanish pirate swung to connect with the sword and missed. Duncan poked the dull sword at the pirate’s torso to show just where the blade would have struck, had they been fighting for real. With an injury to the stomach region, the man would have died a painful death.
The other pirates groaned and ribbed their partners in crime. Another quickly took his place for a demonstration.
The man’s coal-black eyes studied Duncan. The pirate’s dark brown skin glistening in the sun, and a red-and-white striped kerchief covered most of his curly black hair. He flexed huge biceps, as if warning Duncan that he was not anyone to challenge him. Even if he didn’t have the sword skills to fight the good fight, the pirate was muscled enough to wear a man down. A kill had to be quick in this man’s case.
The man lunged, his heavy bulk barreling toward Duncan, who quickly sidestepped and swung around to skewer the man in the back.
“Ooohs” filled the deck where passengers intimated that Duncan had played dirty, stabbing a man in the back, while the pirates took him to task with jeers.
“Another lesson,” Duncan said, bowing his head slightly to the defeated pirate. “When waging war, use every measure available to ensure you are the last man standing. Especially when you are well outnumbered.” He waved his sword at the other pirates waiting their turns. In a real battle, they would not have given him the chance to take another breath before someone else was trying to slice him in two.
The dark man nodded, grinning, his white teeth gleaming in the sunlight.
“Now me, Highlander,” another pirate said, really getting into the action. His blond hair was pulled back into a tail, his blue eyes glimmering with good humor and enjoyment, and he held up one hand as if he were a Frenchmen getting ready to dance, his sword outstretched.
Duncan maneuvered around the deck until the sun was shining brightly in the blond’s eyes.
The man squinted and thrust his sword. Duncan easily knocked it aside, then attacked just as quickly, his sword point resting at the blond pirate’s throat.
“The sun was in my eyes,” the blond complained.
“Aye, I planned it that way,” Duncan said, and glanced at the last pirate, who watched him with a small smirk on his face.
Everyone laughed, pirates and passengers alike.
“So the Highlander fights dirty, like us pirates,” the remaining pirate said. With his red hair and highly freckled white skin, he looked like he could have Scottish roots.
“Have you ancestry from Scotland?” Duncan asked, squaring off with the man.
“Oh, aye,” the man said, offering a bit of a brogue in return.
Everyone looked serious, frowns furrowing their brows, as they watched the two men maneuver on deck while keeping the same distance between them.
The pirate crew would talk about this for eons, if they didn’t get fired for the insurance risk of having a true swordsman conducting a sword demonstration without prior written permission. At least two of the passengers were making a video of the sword-fighting demonstrations. Duncan thought about being in the movie at Argent Castle. He groaned to himself, hoping that none of this would end up on YouTube for the whole world to see.
“Was your family from the Highlands, then?” Duncan asked the redhead.
“Nay,” the man said, smiling amiably, but the gleam in his eye said he was trying to maneuver Duncan into a corner of the ship, wanting badly to best him in front of the passengers and his pirate comrades at arms.
“From the Lowlands?” Duncan asked, distracting the man and forcing him to think about something other than holding his sword at the ready.
“Aye.”
“Hmm, you were loyal to the king.”
The man raised a red brow, probably not knowing enough about the history of Scotland to know how to respond.
“We were loyal to our clan chiefs.” With that parting comment, Duncan lunged at the man, forcing him back.
The redhead quickly parried, falling another couple of steps back, his face flushing red. He hadn’t expected Duncan’s move. He tried to make up for it with a counterattack. By this time, Duncan had pushed him into a corner. Without anywhere to maneuver, the Lowlander pirate was in a bad position.
Duncan knocked the sword from the pirate’s grasp, sending it flying to the deck. “You should have been loyal to a clan chief and given up your pirating ways.”
The pirates and passengers all laughed.
The pirates all cast glances at one another, and in one simultaneous move, three of them attacked. Duncan fought them while the redhead scrambled to retrieve his sword from the deck and join in the fun. In good humor, Duncan slashed at their swords, got poked a few times—how could he not when he was beset by four pirates at once?—and finally raised his sword in defeat so he could enjoy the rest of the cruise with Shelley in his embrace.
Cheers erupted all around, and after a short sail, the ship anchored for anyone who wished to walk the plank or take the ladder to go for a swim.
Shelley was grinning at Duncan and shaking her head as she stripped out of her jeans and T-shirt. That made him want to take her to the privacy of their own beach and do the same with her—only he’d be doing the stripping.
She was wearing a one-piece that was as sexy on her as the string bikini. It stretched across her luscious curves, with the shimmering royal blue just as tantalizing as her bare skin. He pulled off his shirt and jeans and shoes so he stood before her in just his swim trunks.
She smiled up at him coyly. “I can’t wait to see you in the movie, Duncan. I can’t imagine what it would be like to see you wearing a kilt and swinging a claymore.”
Most of the passengers were milling about, intrigued with the Highlander, and finally one ventured to ask, “Do you teach sword fighting?”
“Aye,” Duncan said. To the younger boys in their clan, teaching alongside his brothers and cousins. The skill would be passed on forever.
“He’s been in a movie,” Shelley said proudly.
He quickly guided her to the plank. “I will make you walk the plank for that, lass.”
She laughed and hurried down it, stood for a moment looking at the clear blue water below, and then jumped off, holding her nose.
He chuckled, walked the plank, and then jumped in after her. Unfortunately, he was swimming with Shelley in the daytime in crystal clear waters with an audience looking down on them from aboard the ship. That meant he couldn’t do what he wanted with her—hold her tight, kiss her until they had to come up for air, and feel that sexy body of hers up close.
Something other than the reaction he had to seeing her, feeling her up close, and tasting her had him wanting more. He damn well enjoyed being with her. The thought that she’d return to Texas and he’d return to Scotland—and they’d never see each other again—bothered him more than he wanted to consider.
“You were tremendous,” Shelley said, smiling at him as she paused in the shadow of the boat during their swim, somewhat hidden from curious onlookers. She looked up at him as if he were the hero of her dreams.
He pulled her close. Hell, to pirates and passengers alike, he was a swashbuckling Highlander. It was expected of him. He kissed her.
Aye, he had vanquished the scurvy pirates—well, until they ganged up on him. Truth be told, if they’d been battling in a real sword fight, he’d have still won. But now he had the sweet maiden, having rescued her from yonder ship, and wasn’t letting her go.