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Authors: Donna Kauffman
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anyway.” He shrank back when Connal advanced on him, grabbing hold of the window to keep from falling out.
“I'm in no mood fer yer jests, imp.”
“I couldna change me fate, MacNeil, nor that of the stone. Fate has the final say, ye know that as wellas I do. Twasn't as if I could raise the trunk from the depths of the ocean floor.”
“Yer to have the stone's interest and well-being at heart at all times. It is the heart o’ the clan, but there ye go, once again more interested in—”
“Are ye no’ interested in what the lass intends to do with that board of hers?” Bagan said.
Frustrating, annoying as all hell, and quite deft at shifting the focus away from himself at the most judicious times, Connal thought. But the dwarf had a point. He turned his attention once again to the water below. She was sitting astride the plank now. “What in blazes does she think she's about?”
“I told ye. Wave hunting.”
Connal didn't shift his attention from the scene below. “What would she do with one were she to somehow catch it?”
Bagan hopped down from the window ledge and waddled over to stand beside Connal. “From what I understand, one rides them.”
Connal didn't respond. His gaze was fully intent on the woman astride the painted board. She'd paddled closer to the castle ruin, where the tumble of stones from the castle walls created a seawall of sorts, which in turn created a greater water surge. She was moving directly into the heaviest part of the surf and-gods!-she was attempting to steer that flimsy piece of driftwood in the direct path of- “She
is
plannin’ to send herself to hell!”
Connal was out of the tower in the flash, ignoring Bagan's pleas to stop and wait and let him explain. As if he'd believe anything the imp had to say. Man couldn't even deliver one winsome bride to his side through a bit of a storm! And now his current betrothed was trying to kill herself.
Connal hit the beach running, so unnerved hehadn't even thought to merely appear in the water next to her. He was already unwinding his kilt and preparing himself for the bitter cold of the North Sea when he came to a skidding halt as he rounded the last pile of ruinous rubble… aghast as he spied her standing on that painted plank amidst Mother Nature's finest fury.
But if she was intending to kill herself, she'd yet to plunge herself into the rocky depths. In fact, it looked as if she'd had a change of heart and was desperately steering the thing away from the rocks, away from certain death. Or, at the very least, severe dismemberment.
He snapped out of his daze and rushed into the surf as she neared the beach. It was only after he'd dragged her kicking and screaming from the roiling seafoam that he thought to wonder on the fact that, close up, she hadn't seemed remotely panicked. At least not until he'd come in the water after her. In fact, she'd looked joyous. And quite a lovely countenance she had when she smiled, he thought.
Well… she wasn't smiling now.
Chapter 5
W
hat the hell do you think you're doing?” Josie sputtered, pounding at his annoyingly broad chest. “Put me down! Now, dammit.” “Ye shouldna swear, lass. Isna verra becoming.” She glared at him. “Neither is dragging me off my surfboard. Not to mention dangerous.”
His flash black eyes widened. “Dangerous? Ye think me savin yer life to be the dangerous act?”
“Saving my life?” She was still sputtering, but she'd given up beating on his chest. He was completely impervious to it, as if she were but a little mouse pounding on a lion. Well, she was no mouse, as this lion was about to learn. “Did you hear me scream for help? No,” she answered for him. “I was in complete control, or was until I had to flip out to avoid ramming right into you. Would have served you right, you know, but it might have damaged my board.”
He was regarding her steadily now, as one might watch a crazy person they were wanting to placate. “What manner of
“I'm in no mood fer yer jests, imp.”
“I couldna change me fate, MacNeil, nor that of the stone. Fate has the final say, ye know that as wellas I do. Twasn't as if I could raise the trunk from the depths of the ocean floor.”
“Yer to have the stone's interest and well-being at heart at all times. It is the heart o’ the clan, but there ye go, once again more interested in—”
“Are ye no’ interested in what the lass intends to do with that board of hers?” Bagan said.
Frustrating, annoying as all hell, and quite deft at shifting the focus away from himself at the most judicious times, Connal thought. But the dwarf had a point. He turned his attention once again to the water below. She was sitting astride the plank now. “What in blazes does she think she's about?”
“I told ye. Wave hunting.”
Connal didn't shift his attention from the scene below. “What would she do with one were she to somehow catch it?”
Bagan hopped down from the window ledge and waddled over to stand beside Connal. “From what I understand, one rides them.”
Connal didn't respond. His gaze was fully intent on the woman astride the painted board. She'd paddled closer to the castle ruin, where the tumble of stones from the castle walls created a seawall of sorts, which in turn created a greater water surge. She was moving directly into the heaviest part of the surf and-gods!-she was attempting to steer that flimsy piece of driftwood in the direct path of- “She
is
plannin’ to send herself to hell!”
Connal was out of the tower in the flash, ignoring Bagan's pleas to stop and wait and let him explain. As if he'd believe anything the imp had to say. Man couldn't even deliver one winsome bride to his side through a bit of a storm! And now his current betrothed was trying to kill herself.
Connal hit the beach running, so unnerved hehadn't even thought to merely appear in the water next to her. He was already unwinding his kilt and preparing himself for the bitter cold of the North Sea when he came to a skidding halt as he rounded the last pile of ruinous rubble… aghast as he spied her standing on that painted plank amidst Mother Nature's finest fury.
But if she was intending to kill herself, she'd yet to plunge herself into the rocky depths. In fact, it looked as if she'd had a change of heart and was desperately steering the thing away from the rocks, away from certain death. Or, at the very least, severe dismemberment.
He snapped out of his daze and rushed into the surf as she neared the beach. It was only after he'd dragged her kicking and screaming from the roiling seafoam that he thought to wonder on the fact that, close up, she hadn't seemed remotely panicked. At least not until he'd come in the water after her. In fact, she'd looked joyous. And quite a lovely countenance she had when she smiled, he thought.
Well… she wasn't smiling now.
Chapter 5
W
hat the hell do you think you're doing?” Josie sputtered, pounding at his annoyingly broad chest. “Put me down! Now, dammit.” “Ye shouldna swear, lass. Isna verra becoming.” She glared at him. “Neither is dragging me off my surfboard. Not to mention dangerous.”
His flash black eyes widened. “Dangerous? Ye think me savin yer life to be the dangerous act?”
“Saving my life?” She was still sputtering, but she'd given up beating on his chest. He was completely impervious to it, as if she were but a little mouse pounding on a lion. Well, she was no mouse, as this lion was about to learn. “Did you hear me scream for help? No,” she answered for him. “I was in complete control, or was until I had to flip out to avoid ramming right into you. Would have served you right, you know, but it might have damaged my board.”
He was regarding her steadily now, as one might watch a crazy person they were wanting to placate. “What manner of
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