Captured by the Pirate Laird Read Online Free PDF Page B

disapproved of Wharton’s action, he pushed on and burned
Dumfries. There, he beat the Scots down and took many a noble Scotsman
prisoner. Calum’s father had escaped with his life and little else. Wharton
raided again in ’47, and two years ago he’d joined Northumberland against the
Scots. Calum got his taste of battle then. Wharton took no prisoners—hung them
all. Many MacLeods lost their lives, and bloody Wharton led the lot— her husband.
    Calum
pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and stood at the helm. Twilight, he shed
his thoughts and enjoyed a rare moment of calm seas and clear skies. They would
reach Raasay on the morrow and his life would return to normal, running the
keep, solving problems.
    Wearing
a red gown with a low square neckline that accented her lily white breasts, Anne
stepped onto the deck below and walked to the rail. His gut flew to his throat
as if he’d jumped off a cliff. He considered ducking into the navigation room,
but stopped.
    The
breeze picked up her hair from under her veil, and golden strands fluttered
proud as a flag. She moved with grace, reminding him of a swan swimming upon a
still pool. Facing the sea, Calum admired the way her shoulders tapered to a
waist so tiny, if he grasped it with both hands, his fingers would touch. He
tapped them together, imagining how her waist would feel with his hands upon
her.
    Bran
tottered up, wearing that sling he’d become outrageously proud of, and engaged
her in conversation. Calum rested his elbow on the rail and cradled his chin,
completely enthralled. He watched Anne chat easily, comfortable with the lad.
Though Calum held her captive, she maintained her regal refinement. If she was
afraid, she had not shown it since that first night. He’d never encountered a
woman like her—petite, totally in control, perceptive with unfaltering manners.
How could she have become entangled with Wharton?
    Calum
would send the ransom note once they arrived on Raasay. The missive would be
carried to Edinburgh by one of his men and passed to an English runner there.
Calum watched Anne, wishing he’d been six stone heavier and thirty or so years
older—like bloody Wharton. What he wouldn’t do to lie in her arms for just one
night. If only he could run his fingers through that tangled mane of silken
tresses, caress the tops of her breasts with his lips. But a liaison with such
a lady could never be. Calum blinked and shook his thoughts away.
    Soon
she would know where his keep hid in the cove on Raasay. He couldn’t kill her
nor could he keep her.
    If
he ransomed Anne, she could tell Wharton how to find them, but Calum’s spies
would see the blackguard coming days before he reached Raasay. That wouldn’t
stop the battle, but it would give Calum a chance to prepare—mayhap even send
the bastard to his grave.
    Would
he have a chance with the widow when Wharton was dead? Baa . She thought him an outlaw. No highborn, beautiful woman like
Lady Anne would give a man like him a second thought.
    Though
he’d tried, he had yet to find a woman to share his keep—a strong, capable,
beautiful woman. No one on Raasay had laid claim to his heart and his bed
remained cold—lonely even.
    She
turned and caught him staring. He bowed and his heart melted when she smiled—a
smile with dimples that could light up the horizon. He half expected Lady Anne
to turn up her pert little nose and head the other way.
    Before
he could persuade himself otherwise, Calum pattered down the steps and stood
beside her. She watched the sunset and her warmth pulled him close to her like
a magnet.
    “’Tis
beautiful,” she said when the sky shone with violet and pink, highlighted
against the strips of clouds that sailed toward the ship.
    He
inhaled. Her scent ever so feminine, Calum inclined his head to capture more of
it. “Aye, milady.”
    She
placed her hand on the rail. Again his reflexes took over and he rested his palm
atop it. Calum expected her to snatch it away, but