Erinsong Read Online Free PDF

that you, Princess?” He
chuckled, a low seduc tive rumble. “I
thought it might be.”
    “What do ye mean by that?”
Blood rushed into her cheeks. The infernal
man thought she’d been spying on
him.
    “Just that you’d be the
only one up this early.” His tone was
without guile. “It appears I’m going to live long enough to need a
name after all. Have you thought of one for me?”
    “Perhaps I’ll pick a name so vile, ye’ll jump
back into the sea and swim away.”
    “ I’ll risk it.”
    “How about Conway?” The
tiniest hint of mischief crept into her
voice.
    “And what does Conway mean?”
    “Yellow hound,” Brenna admitted.
    “I’m flattered. Is that the best you can
do?”
    “Perhaps ye’d like to be called Doran—”
    “Which no doubt means Norse slug-worm.”
    She stifled a laugh with
her hand. “No, Do ran is a name that suits
ye. It means ‘wandering stranger.’ Ye can’t argue with
that.”
    “No, but is it a name you’ll be happy calling
me.” More splashing sounds traveled up to her. “When you look at
me, what’s the first name that comes to your mind?”
    “I’’m not looking at ye,” she insisted,
fighting the urge to do just that.
    His rumbling laugh taunted
her. “A name, Princess. That’s all I
ask.”
    “Keefe Murphy,” she said
quickly, then clamped her lips tight. She
hadn’t meant to let the name she’d been thinking of him as slip
out.
    “Keefe Murphy.” He tried it
on for size. “Sounds decent. Why do you think it should be my name
for the time being?”
    “Murphy means ‘sea warrior,’ and ye’ve no
doubt come from the sea.”
    “And Keefe?”
    Handsome. She couldn’t admit she found him fair to look
upon. Her cheeks heated with fresh color. “I cannot say, but it suits ye. Ye must trust me for
that.”
    “You’re the only one I can
trust right now. Good enough, Brenna.
Keefe it is, then,” he said. “The king of Donegal’s hall was filled
with drinking heroes last night. I’ll wager some of them are still
there, the worse for their heroics. That
ale was potent.”
    “And lucky for you ‘twas in
a well-made cask.” Brenna made the mistake
of turning around to talk to him and
caught him tugging up his leggings.
    Well made indeed, she admitted grudgingly. Before she could avert her eyes, he looked up and met
her gaze directly. The man’s smile would have melted the Stone of
Tara.
    “I’ve already had my bath,
Brenna. But I could be coaxed back into
the water if you join me.”
    The heat in his blue eyes
made them go dark. Brenna’s insides squirmed. It was one thing to
ad mire the fine line of a man’s frame. To
see him openly admire her in return set
her quaking like a stand of aspen in a
gale. But she’d be damned if she’d let him see her fear. Brenna took refuge in rage.
    A low noise of disgust
erupted from her lips as she hurled the
buckets down at him.
    “Curse ye for a misbegotten
son of Satan! The only water I’d join ye
in would be bog water, so I could get a
closer look while me Da drowns ye! Don’t
ye be daring to look at me that way ever,
ever again. Fill the buckets and fetch them back to the keep. And be quick about it, or I’ll set
the hounds on ye.”
    Brenna hoisted her tunic,
baring her legs to the knee, and ran up
the path. She swiped angrily at the tear spilling down her
cheek.
    So much for her vow that a
Northman would never make her cry
again.
     
     

Chapter Four
     
     
    Keefe crested the rise. He
barely noticed the weight of the full
buckets dangling from the yoke settled across his shoulders, but
the wound in his thigh slowed his pace. His gaze swept over the
home of Brian Ui Niall. There was the
sagging cattle byre, a chicken coop
listing to the south, and a half dozen circular thatch-roofed huts clustered around the stone tower of the keep.
    A jagged streak of light
seared across his vision and he suddenly seemed to see a sturdy
longhouse with smoke rising from evenly spaced holes in the roof.