Sapphire Dream (15 page)

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Authors: Pamela Montgomerie

BOOK: Sapphire Dream
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She was starting to shake. The bright yellow of her Hard Rock tee showed clearly through the knotted laces. She needed to hide, but where?
The vibration of booted feet grew stronger. Any second Cutter would turn the corner and find her.
Dear God.
Brenna grabbed the cap out of the dirt, twisted her hair and shoved it inside as she looked up at her companion. He seemed so much older than the men his age she’d known in her time. There was a wisdom and a solidness in his eyes that she’d always thought took years to acquire. But perhaps not so long in this place. Either way, he’d proven himself to her.
“You shielded me once,” she said. “Will you do it again?”
Without waiting for his reply, she pressed herself against him, hiding her gaping bodice. “Kiss me and act like you mean it.”
The young man’s eyes widened, but she saw a grin bloom in their depths as he did as she commanded. His warm mouth covered hers. Sweet, tentative. She reached up and grabbed him about the neck, moaning for good measure. Rabbie followed her lead, turning the chaste kiss real even as he kept a small measure of distance between their bodies.
This kind of ploy always worked in the movies.
Please let it work for real.
“You there!”
Cutter.
She’d know that voice anywhere. Her heart leaped, then began to pound until she thought she’d have a heart attack.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
She kissed Rabbie harder, praying he’d take the hint and ignore the command.
Rabbie didn’t seem to have heard the command at all.
“Never mind them,” snapped a second voice. “They didn’t see anything. You two go left. Mr. Cutter, come with me. She couldn’t have gone far. Find her!”
As the sound of pounding feet retreated, Brenna opened one eye and peaked over Rabbie’s shoulder, afraid one of the men had remained behind. Amazingly, they’d been left alone.
She pulled back, ending the kiss. “It worked. They’re gone.”
The young man rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at her with a mixture of dismay and thorough arousal.
Brenna winced. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have used you like that. I think you just saved my life.”
A grin bloomed on his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his capable hands untangled the strings of her bodice and put her back together. “Ye may use me any time ye wish, lass.”
Brenna smiled, then froze as she heard the sound of a horse racing toward them from around the corner.
Rabbie wasted no time in pulling her back into his arms.
“Unhand her,” a voice growled as the horse came to a sudden halt beside them.
Relief turned her legs to Silly Putty. Brenna pulled out of the embrace, then turned and stared at the sight before her. The pirate in a coat and long black curly wig.
She grinned, then turned and kissed the young man’s cheek. “Thanks.”
Rabbie eyed the cold-eyed pirate warily. “Ye’ll not hurt her.”
“I aim to throttle her.” He extended a hand to Brenna, his eyes glittering like ice, filling her with a strange joy.
She flashed a quick grin at Rabbie. “Isn’t he sweet?” But as she reached for the pirate’s proffered hand, she heard shouts and the sound of horses cutting off their escape.
Bluecoats.
Rourke leaped from the horse. “We’ll not outrun them. We’ll have to hide.”
“Come!” Rabbie yelled, running beneath the smith’s canopy and motioning them to follow him into the brick building behind.
Rourke tied the horse to a nearby post, grabbed her hand, and pulled her with him after Rabbie. They dove into the sweltering building a second before the soldiers’ horses thundered past.
For a moment she thought they’d taken the short route to Hades, for the room was hotter than a sauna and glowing red from banked coals in a huge oven standing in the middle of the room. The forge. A broad, muscular man stood before it, heating what appeared to be iron on a long pair of tongs, staring at them.
“Da,” Rabbie said. “We must hide them. The earl’s soldiers seek them.”
The older man, whose bald head glistened with sweat in the stifling heat, frowned. “I want no trouble.”
“Nay, Da. They’ve done no wrong. I’ll not have them killed.”
“The soldiers . . .” He shook his head. “Ha’ ye no sense?”
Rourke stepped forward. “Ye needn’t shield me. Just the lass. I shall pay you well.”
Brenna leaped after him. “Rourke, no. You’re not facing them alone.”
He turned to her, his expression grim. “Hide, Wildcat, and heed my command this time, aye?”
“They’ll kill you.”
“Mayhap. If they do, make your way to the village of Monymusk. Hegarty will find ye. Soon or late, he will find ye.”
Outside, the sound of booted feet pounded at a small distance.
“Come.” Rabbie grabbed her arm. “You can hide in the coal bin.”
The blacksmith grunted. “You’ll be needing to move his mount to the rear,” he told his son.
Rabbie grinned. “Aye, Da.”
“Have you a second mount?” he asked Rourke.
“Nay.”
The older man turned to Rabbie. “Then ye’ll saddle mine and tether him there as well. They’ll not make it far on one.”
Rourke gave a nod that was almost a bow. “My thanks.”
Brenna swallowed hard. That meant she’d be riding alone. Assuming they made it.
The blacksmith finally looked at Rourke. “Get yourself hid. I want no trouble, but . . .” He shrugged. “As trouble is here, I’ll be helping you.”
As Rabbie ran to get the horses ready, the blacksmith took the hot ingot out of the coals and went outside under the canopy to hammer.
Rourke turned and closed the distance between them. He grabbed her waist and lifted her into the filthy coal bin. Oh, she was going to be dirty.
“Get down,” Rourke commanded. He took off his black jacket and put it over her head. “ ’ Twill cover the brightness of your hair and cap.”
Then he pulled off his wig and thrust it at her. “Hold that for me.”
“Aren’t you getting in, too?”
“Nay. I must be able to fight.” The coldness in his eyes evaporated in a wash of heat. “I could flay you,” he growled. “I commanded ye to remain hidden, yet you disobeyed.”
“Oh sure, don’t thank me for saving you.”
He threw her an incredulous look. “We are not
saved
.”
“No, but at least you’re still alive. I was afraid they were going to surprise you. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“You did not think I could take them?”
“There are six of them!”
“So you yelled for me, then found yourself a laddie?”
He was jealous. “Rabbie helped me get in and out of the dress, then—”
“He
undressed
you?”
Brenna jerked the jacket off her head. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Rourke. I thought they’d kill you if I didn’t do something.”
He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “What if they’d caught
you
?”
The raw emotion in his eyes took her by surprise. She’d been nothing but a thorn in his side.
“Why do you care? Why do they want me, Pirate?”
His hands stilled. Then he released her and turned away. “Christ, I need to get back to sea. Get ye hidden.”
“Not until you tell me.” It was a bold threat. If one of the bluecoats walked in now, she was as good as caught. But she had to know what was going on.
He turned, glaring at her with those cold, cold eyes.
Brenna stared right back. “I’m waiting.” She lifted the hair that had tumbled down her neck, desperate for some respite . . .
any
respite . . . from the suffocating heat. Sweat rolled through her hair, making her scalp itch.
He broke eye contact and turned away.
“Why are you afraid to tell me?”
He scowled, the accusation pricking his pride as she’d intended. “I am not
afraid
.”
“Then tell me what’s going on, Rourke. They’re trying to kill me, and I have a right to know why.”
“This is not the time,” he growled.
“It’s never the time, is it? It’s never going to be the time.” She stared at his strong profile, the stubborn jut of his chin, the line of his straight, arrogant nose. She saw the moment his rigid stance softened ever so slightly, the moment his shoulders seemed almost to droop.
Turning, eyes bleak, he met her gaze. “He wants you because of the prophecy.” He turned back and started for the door, leaving her staring after him.
Brenna dropped his wig in the coal and climbed out of the bin.
Rourke swung toward her, blocking her movement. “
Wildcat.
”
“You can’t just drop a bomb like that and walk away.”
He glared at her, but with that glint of confusion she was becoming used to when she said something strange.
Not too many bombs around here, eh?
“Hegarty should be the one to explain, not I.”
“Hegarty’s not here, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Aye. I am aware of that.” His words contained a wealth of frustration. “It has naught to do with me. I only know that Hegarty brought you here to fulfill your part, and the Earl of Slains is disinclined to allow it.”
“Because?”
He lifted her and deposited her once more into the coal bin, his eyes grave. “Because . . . according to the prophecy . . . ye will destroy him.”
Brenna stared at him, brows creased in disbelief even as she forgot to breathe.
I’m hearing
,
but definitely not comprehending
.
She grabbed his forearms as he released her. “What do you mean,
destroy
? Financially?”
“No.”
“You can’t mean I’m supposed to kill him.”
“Aye. You are.”
Brenna gaped at him. “Me?” The idea was absurd. There was no denying the man deserved to die, but she was the last person anyone should expect to be his assassin. Not unless a man could die from a knee to the groin. But she suddenly remembered the earl in her time railing at her.
You burned this castle three hundred years ago, Brenna Cameron. You’ll not do it again!
Whoa.
There had to be a mistake. That was the only explanation. She wasn’t the right Brenna Cameron. Hegarty must have flipped through some kind of cosmic phonebook and picked the wrong woman.
Rourke was already making his way back toward the door.
“I’m not the one you want, Pirate. I can’t be.”
He stared out at the street, then turned and eyed her meaningfully. “You wear the sapphire.”
She squinted in confusion as her fingers went to the small pendant at her throat. “I’ve had this forever. What could it possibly have to do with . . .”
Rourke’s body tensed, and he levered himself back into the shadows and motioned her down. Someone was coming. She squatted low in the coal bin and pulled Rourke’s jacket over her head as the sound of heavily booted feet drew near.
EIGHT
 
Brenna’s pulse set up a reggae rhythm in her ears, nearly blotting out all other sound as she huddled in the coal bin. The worst of it was not knowing what was going on. She couldn’t see a thing but black. Black coal, black skirt, black jacket over her head. Her heart was beating too fast, too hard.
She heard the muted thud of footsteps enter the smithy. Her breath caught and held, the heat and musty wool smell of Rourke’s jacket filling her lungs. Even if it weren’t like a sauna in here, she’d be sweating from the sheer fear that discovery was only seconds away.
Footsteps moved closer.
Don’t move. Don’t breathe.

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