Page 17 of Time of the Warlord (Stones of Scotland #5)

T his time, Sadie was taking no chances. She went straight down into the hold of the boat, in the small space below decks, and refused to leave. That seemed to suit the sailors and guardsmen well enough - their discomfort at her presence was more than obvious. It gave Sadie chills. What had Norah done? She had to find her soon. They needed to get out of this place and return home, where it was safe.

Even Ciaran hadn’t objected when Sadie chose to vanish down the ladder and close the trapdoor above her head. She thought she’d seen a slight smile quirk the corner of his lips, but it might have been her imagination. He was hardly a man given to frequent smiling.

She would have liked to watch the shoreline slip past, but one dip in the sea had been more than enough. No, she would stay down here, safe and reasonably dry. They might reach Dunadd tonight, Ciaran had said. She could only hope that was the case. The business of traveling without cars or trains really was a long and painful one.

Sadie was so lost in her thoughts of home that she almost didn’t notice when the trapdoor opened. She only snapped back to attention when Ciaran landed heavily on the curved planks that made up the floor of the small hold. He made his way over to where Sadie huddled awkwardly between a few crates.

“I’m sorry it’s not more comfortable down here,” he said, frowning a little. “The men have been sleeping up on deck, so they didn’t think to outfit the hold for anything other than basic supplies.”

“I’ll be fine,” Sadie said, managing a smile. “At least it won’t be for long.”

Ciaran nodded. Then he surprised himself by lowering down to the floor beside her, stretching out his long legs across the curved planks.

“I might as well wait down here as well,” he said. “I’m only in the way up top. Besides, I wanted to ask you about Norah.”

Sadie froze.

“I don’t want to talk about her,” she said, avoiding eye contact. “Especially not to you.”

Ciaran was silent. For a second, Sadie feared she might have hurt his feelings. But that was nonsense. They were nothing to each other - if anything, they were enemies, on opposite sides. Ciaran would stop at nothing to protect his king, and Sadie would stop at nothing to protect Norah.

“I want to help you, Sadie,” Ciaran said at last. “If someone is forcing Norah to act, then we need to find them. That’s a goal we have in common, isn’t it? We need to work together.”

Sadie nodded reluctantly.

“Unless you think your sister is acting of her own free will,” Ciaran said.

That startled an angry gasp out of her.

“Never! Norah would never hurt anyone. She’s in trouble, and she needs my help.”

Ciaran grabbed her hands, holding them still. She hadn’t realized how much she was trembling.

“Then don’t be afraid for her,” he whispered. “We’ll help her. Together.”

His thumbs moved across the back of her hands, stroking her skin gently but firmly. Sadie relaxed into his touch, letting her breathing steady and slow. What was it about this man that she found so comforting, so safe? For all she knew that he would always put his king first, Sadie found herself drawn to trust him. If Ciaran could help, she was certain he would.

“Thank you,” she whispered, clinging to his hands as if they were her last lifeline in this entire long-ago century. She stared up into his face, already so familiar.

“We said this was a bad idea,” Ciaran breathed.

Sadie’s brow wrinkled a little. She couldn’t quite put all the parts of this conversation into a logical order.

“We said what was a bad idea?” she asked.

“This,” Ciaran said, and kissed her. This time, it was sweet and soft. His hands still held hers, and their lips brushed lightly against each other, almost reverent in their gentleness. They parted for a second, only a hairs-breadth between the two of them.

Sadie could not stay away. She leaned forwards again, sliding her hands up Ciaran’s arms, encircling his wrists, then his biceps, as her lips met his and opened for him. He kissed her back with a groan, his mouth still gentle but increasingly demanding.

Abruptly, Sadie found herself flying through the air as Ciaran wrenched his arms from hers and whirled her to lie beneath him. He kissed her again, harder and harder, his body pressing lower and lower until every inch was matched to hers. Sadie strained up against him, desperate to feel the touch of his body everywhere. He was so warm, so hot, so full of life, and she couldn’t get enough. His hands slipped up below her skirt as smoothly and easily as if they belonged there, until the fabric was bunched up around her waist and her legs were bare on the rough planking.

Sadie knew they’d said this was a bad idea. She knew she should push his hands away from her skin, tear her kips away from his, push him away from her.

One more time she whispered to herself, and lost all her objections in the heat of his kiss. There would be time enough to regret this later. For now, she arched against him as he pulled her skirts up and the bodice of her dress down, and she let go of all her worries. There was nothing but Ciaran and the feel of his skin against hers, nothing but the rhythm of their bodies, in perfect time with the rocking of the waves.

For now, she could forget.