Authors: Debbie Mazzuca

Warrior of the Isles (33 page)

BOOK: Warrior of the Isles

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He framed her face with his hands. “Nay, but I doona think it would have worked even if I did. Ye're no' just in my memories, Syrena. Ye're a part of me, my heart, my verra soul.” He lifted his gaze from hers. “And I could no' risk forgettin' even one day with my brother, no matter our troubles.”

Syrena looked over her shoulder to see what effect Aidan's words had on Lachlan.

Lan came slowly down the steps, holding his brother's gaze. “About time ye came to collect yer wife.”

“Aye, it was. Ye look well. Are ye happy here?”

“Plenty of good food, wine, and womenâwhat more could a mon ask fer? Speakin' of which, I'm starvin'. Come on, Uscias, let's leave my brother and his wife to get reacquainted. Ye, too, Uncle.”

“Lord MacLeod has much to answer for before getting reacquainted with my
daughter
.”

Before her father could say anything further, Lachlan admitted a guard carrying a missive for King Rohan. Her father grunted and looked over at her. “It seems I have matters to attend to. You are certain this is what you want, Syrena?”

“Yes.” She smiled up at Aidan. “I love him, Father. As much as I'm sure you loved my mother. Please try and understand.”

He closed the distance between them. “I do. But hear me well, MacLeod. I plan on spending as much time as I can with my daughter.” He kissed Syrena on the forehead then strode from the room, garnet robes swirling about him.

Aidan groaned. “Ye could've warned me, Uscias.”

“Yes, I suppose I could have, but what amusement would there be in that?”

Lachlan snorted. “Have fun, brother. He makes the MacDonald look like a mewling lamb.”

“Thanks fer that, Lan,” Aidan muttered.

Lachlan, hand poised on the door, took a deep breath then looked back at Aidan. “I wish ye wiped that night from yer mind, brother. What I said to ye. I didna mean it. 'Twas the drugs andâ”

“I ken, 'tis forgotten.” Before his brother left the room, Aidan called out to him, “Lan, we'll be expectin' ye to visit often.”

Lachlan flung an arm around Uscias. “Aye, we'll be there, won't we, my wee wizard?”

“I am not yer wee wizard, King Lachlan,” Uscias berated him as they closed the door behind them.

“My brother's a kingâwho would've thought it?” Aidan shook his head then looked down at her. “And I'm married to the most beautiful Queen in the land.”

She rose up on the tips of her toes to kiss her husband. A man she loved with all her heart. “I'm no longer Queen of the Isles, Aidan. I'm only a princess now.”

“Nay, ye're the Queen of my Isles, Syrena, and ye always will be. I love ye, angel,” he murmured against her mouth.

“I love you, too, Aidan.”

Epilogue

Isle of Lewis

December 25, 1605

Syrena stood over her sleeping husband and tugged on his hand. “Aidan, get up. Aileanna won't let Alex and Jamie open their presents until everyone is downstairs.”

Aidan groaned and rolled onto his back. “What are ye talkin' about, Syrena?”

“They want to open their presents, the ones we were to put under the . . .” She bit her lip.

He arched a brow. “Tree,” he finished for her. “The tree ye burnt down while ye were showin' off fer the bairns.” He pulled her down on top of him then rolled her beneath him.

She slapped his broad chest. “I wasn't showing off. They wanted me to decorate the tree like Aileanna does and . . . I couldn't find any candles, so . . .”

“So, ye used yer magick and turned the bloody tree into one.”

“I put it out.”

“Aye, and ye flooded the hall while ye were at it.”

“At least the presents weren't under it yet. Now come, we have to go down.” She tried to wriggle out from beneath the weight of his powerful warrior's body.

“Nay, I'm thinkin' I'm goin' to open
my
present right now.”

He encircled her wrists with his big hands and held her arms over her head. Nudging her gown aside with his stubbled chin, he bared her breast. His mouth closed over her pearled nipple, and he suckled, sending an arrow of desire deep into her belly.

Arching her back, she moaned at his expert attention. He released her hands and worked her night rail down to her waist, the heat of his bare chest rubbing against hers. Cupping her breasts with his work-roughened hands, he nuzzled her ear.

“Ye havena fed Ava yet, have ye.” His voice was low and husky. Milk trickled from her nipples, and he lowered his mouth to lap it up.

She squirmed. “No, and she is not going to be very happy with you. She doesn't like to share.”

“Uhmm, just a wee bit more.” He gave his attention to her other breast. Sliding his hand beneath her night rail to nudge her thighs apart, he said, “Open fer me.”

“Aidan,” she moaned when he found the sensitive nub, rubbing his thick, hard erection against her thigh.

“I didna think ye could get any more beautiful, angel, but ye have,” he said, looking deep into her eyes, his fingers stroking inside her.

Soft little whimpers emitting from the nursery that adjoined their chambers turned quickly to a hungry wail.

Aidan buried his face in her breasts. “Yer daughter is as demandin' as ye are.”

With Ava's insistent cries putting a damper on their passionate interlude, Syrena struggled to get out from under him. “And she's as noisy as you.”

Aidan pinned her on her back and gave her one last fierce, demanding kiss, devouring her with his mouth. “When Ava has her afternoon nap, we're havin' one, too.”

Syrena laughed, pushing him off her. “You're only mad because Rory and Aileanna
napped
when Olivia did yesterday and left you to look after Jamie and Alex.”

“Aye.” Aidan tucked his arm behind his head and watched while she adjusted her night rail. “And I'm tellin' ye again, Syrena, no' to let the wee demons play with Ava. I caught them tossin' her back and forth to each other like she was a wee toy.”

“You did not.” She laughed, entering Ava's room. “Oh, poor baby,” she crooned, lifting her daughter into her arms, cradling her downy soft blond curls to her chest. “Papa is very naughty keeping Mama from her little angel.”

Aidan had left the bed to wash, his muscular body displayed in all its naked glory. He glanced at Syrena and grinned. “And yer mama better no' keep lookin' at yer da that way or he's no' lettin' her out of this room.” At the sound of her father's voice, Ava lifted her head from Syrena's chest and held out her hands.

“I don't think our guests will appreciate the host and hostess not making an appearance.”

Wrapping his plaid around his hips, he took Ava from her and tickled their daughter's belly. Ava squealed and her father chuckled before he returned his narrowed gaze to Syrena. “And just who are we expectin' besides my brother and Uscias?”

“My father.” Ignoring Aidan's groan, she went on, counting off their guests on her fingers. “Alasdair and Fiona, Iain, Callum, Connor, Evangeline, Fallyn, Shayla, Riana, Samuel, and Bess,” she finished on a long, drawn-out breath.

“I hope ye warned Lachlan. Those four women have it in fer him, especially Evangeline.”

Her husband had a point. The women of the Isles were not happy with Lan. Like his brother, Lachlan had a problem with women going to war. Which may have explained why Fallyn, Shayla, and Riana were unhappy with him, but Syrena had yet to discover the reason behind Evangeline's ongoing contempt for Lan. “I didn't, but perhaps we will be able to keep them far enough apart to avoid an all-out war.”

Aidan snorted. “Good luck with that.” He tossed Ava in the air, laughing at her delighted giggles. “Ah, Syrena, ye ken if Samuel and Bess are comin', Davina will be joinin' them?” He was smart enough not to look at her when he asked his question.

Syrena remained silent. Arms crossed over her chest, she waited for the coward to meet her gaze.

He shook his head and sighed before he turned to look at her. “What do ye want me to do, angel? She has no kin left and she was my cousin's wife.”

“A fact she seems to have forgotten.”

“'Tis no' my fault Evangeline's magick wiped out all her memories.”

Syrena rolled her eyes and sat in the rocking chair beside the bed, holding out her hands for Ava. “It seems rather convenient your betrothal was the only thing she did remember.”

Aidan grinned, settling their squirming daughter into her arms. He crouched beside the rocker and kissed the top of Ava's silky blond head as she latched on to Syrena's nipple. Drawing a finger along the curve of Syrena's breast, he said, “Ye're jealous.”

“I am not.” She gasped when his warm lips followed the path of his finger.

“Aye, ye are, and ye have no reason to be. Ouch.” He pried his thick black hair from Ava's fingers then nibbled her little hand. Their daughter giggled, choking and sputtering on her milk. Bright violet eyes sparkled as she gazed lovingly at her father.

“Go below. All she wants to do is play when you're about.”

“Uncle Aidan, Aunt Syrena.” Alex and Jamie pounded on the door. “'Tis time to wake up.”

Aidan stood. With his hands on his hips, he glared at the door. “How long are the demons stayin'?”

“Hogmanay.” She smiled. “Uncle Aidan's coming,” she called out to the boys.

“Ye owe me, princess.” He pressed a hard kiss to her lips. “Remember what I saidâye'll be needin' a verra long nap today.”

Syrena shifted Ava to her other breast and her daughter, noting her father about to leave, put out her arms. “Oh no you don't, finish breaking your fast.”

Aidan laughed. “Ye love yer da, doona ye, my wee angel?”

“Go.” Syrena pointed to the door. Feeding her daughter was one of the most pleasurable times of her day, but not when Aidan was around. She kissed Ava's forehead and blinked back tears of gratitude. Her life was perfectâshe had a husband and a baby she adored, the love of friends and family. She could not have asked for anything more.

Pink and purple lights sparkled in front of Syrena's eyes. She blinked. And Ava disappeared.

From the other side of the door she heard her daughter's gurgle of joy.

“Syrena!” Aidan bellowed.

“How did she do that?” Jamie asked.

“Oh, no,” Syrena groaned.

About the Author

Debbie Mazzuca thinks she has the best job in the world. She spends her days cavorting through the wilds of seventeenth-century Scotland with her sexy Highland heroes and her equally fabulous heroines. Back in the twenty-first century you can find her living in Ottawa, Ontario, with her very own hero, two of their three wonderful children, and a yappy Yorkie. You can visit Debbie on the Web at
www.debbiemazzuca.com
.

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Kensington Publishing Corp.
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-1006-7

BOOK: Warrior of the Isles

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