Chapter Sixteen
Arran spotted Mal and the rest of the men he’d sent with Jenna up ahead and breathed out in relief. They were exactly where he’d expected them to be and from their relaxed demeanor he guessed they’d not run into any trouble.
Right now they were spread out along the dunes while Mal knelt by his horse’s right front leg. Arran frowned. Where was Jenna?
He scanned the group but could see no sign of her. His stomach tightened. Misty, the horse he’d lent her, was there, drowsing next to Sarrach, but he could see no sign of Misty’s rider.
Arran’s pulse ratcheted up a notch. He kicked Bran into a gallop, skidding to a halt in front of Mal and jumping out of the saddle before the horse had even come to a full stop.
“What’s going on?” he demanded. “Where’s Jenna?”
“Sarrach’s pulled up lame,” Mal replied, pointing at the stone he’d dug out of the horse’s hoof. “And dinna look so worried; Jenna is fine.” He nodded in the direction of the bay. “Sounds like she’s enjoying herself.”
Arran turned and saw a speck floating in the water of the bay. Delighted laughter floated across the waves, followed by the sound of splashing.
Arran ground his teeth, then glared at his cousin. “Ye let her go swimming?”
Mal’s eyebrows rose. “Let her? I dinna think ye let a MacFinnan spellweaver do anything. Nor do ye stop her when she has a mind to do something.”
Arran growled low in his throat. He had first-hand experience of what happened when ye tried to tell a MacFinnan what to do. Turning, he strode down the dunes onto the beach and walked up to the water’s edge.
Cupping his hands, he bellowed, “Jenna!”
She turned and spotted him. “Arran!” she called. “Come on in! The water is lovely!”
Lovely? He’d call it dangerous and bloody foolish.
Besides the threat of the raiders, didn’t she realize there were treacherous currents around Skye that could grab an unwary swimmer and sweep them out to sea?
Why else did she think she was the only person in the water on such a fine day? The locals had more sense.
“Jenna!” he yelled. “Come back! It isnae safe!”
“Stop worrying!” she yelled back. “It’s amazing!”
She turned onto her back and began gently scooting herself farther out into the bay.
Arran let forth a string of expletives. Why did Lir not warn him about how bloody stubborn and annoying MacFinnan spellweavers were?
If he’d known how difficult they could be, he’d have turned down Lir’s offer and found another way to defeat the raiders.
Lord above, facing down an army of raiders was easier than dealing with one headstrong twenty-first century woman who seemed to take perverse pleasure in doing the opposite of what he told her!
With a growl, he unbelted his claymore and dropped the sword onto the beach.
Then he kicked off his boots, waded into the water, and began swimming out towards her with strong, steady strokes.
He’d vowed to keep the fool woman safe and if that meant dragging her bodily out of the water, then that’s what he’d do.
She could rail and shout at him all she liked just as soon as she was on dry land and he could keep an eye on her.
Arran was an excellent swimmer—as was almost everyone on Skye—and it didn’t take him long to reach her. She laughed delightedly as he trod water next to where she was floating and gave him a smile that almost stopped his heart.
“See?” she cried. “I knew you’d come to your senses!”
“I wish ye would,” he snapped. “Come on. We must get back to shore.”
“Why?” she challenged. “What’s so urgent?”
He glanced around. They were alone but for a couple of curious seals who bobbed in the water not far away, watching them with large, liquid eyes.
The waters were as smooth as glass, shimmering like diamonds in the warm sunlight.
Aye, it was a beautiful spot all right, and when he was younger and more carefree, no doubt he would have done exactly as Jenna was doing now.
But that had been a long time ago and he’d learned the hard way that being carefree was a good way to get yourself killed.
“Dinna ye listen to a word I say? It isnae safe. How am I supposed to keep ye from harm when ye insist on putting yerself right in its path?”
She sighed. Her hair was plastered to the sides of her face and she was wearing only her shift. Through the clear water, he could see how it clung to her body, revealing way too much of her feminine curves. Arran forced himself to look only at her face.
“Look around you, Arran,” she said, slapping the water and then gesturing with one hand. “There is no danger here. Do you see any raiders? Any threats? All I see is a lovely sunny day and a chance to have a bit of relaxation. Where’s the harm in that?”
She was very persuasive; he had to give her that.
He would like nothing more than to spend some time enjoying her company.
It was hardly decent for the two of them to be swimming together like this, of course, and it would only set the gossips’ tongues wagging all the more, but right now he didn’t care about that.
Before he could form a suitable reply, she laughed, splashed water in his face, then began swimming away from him.
Arran spluttered as he swallowed a mouthful of seawater. With a growled curse, he set off after her, catching her in only a few strokes.
“Curse it, Jenna. Will ye listen—”
As he caught her, Jenna turned, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
Arran was so shocked that for an instant his arms and legs went limp and he sank beneath the water, coming up coughing and spluttering. By the time he could see again, Jenna was already swimming away from him, laughing with a joy as unrestrained as the summer breeze.
“Ha!” she called. “I’ve finally found a way to shut you up!”
His lips tingled where she’d kissed him. Why had she done that? Hadn’t they agreed to pretend their kiss last night never happened?
She turned, perhaps around fifty feet away now, and grinned at him. She seemed inordinately pleased with herself. No doubt she enjoyed being able to unsettle him. Well, he would show her!
With a growl that turned into more of a laugh, he launched himself after her. Jenna shrieked and began paddling away as fast as she could, water splashing everywhere in her haste. A giggle of child-like delight escaped her, and Arran felt a fierce joy rising in him as he chased her.
She glanced over her shoulder, opened her mouth to say something, but then her expression changed. Her smile faltered and a look of alarm spread over her face. She suddenly began moving away from him at unnatural speed.
“Arran!” she cried, her voice now filled with fear. She flailed and kicked, trying to get back to him, but made no progress. Instead, she continued to move farther away.
In an instant, Arran understood what had happened and cold fear gripped him.
“Jenna!” he bellowed, desperately trying to reach her.
He felt something take hold of him and shove him with the strength of a mule-kick.
Suddenly, he was speeding through the water.
It carried him closer to Jenna, and as he reached her, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him.
She threw her arms around his neck and together they trod water, trying to keep their heads above the surface as they picked up pace, moving with terrifying speed out of the bay and towards the open sea.
“What’s happening?” Jenna gasped, her voice shrill with fear.
“We’re caught in a rip,” Arran replied. “Dinna fight it. Relax and let it take us. It will spit us out eventually, and then we can swim back to shore.”
“Relax?” Jenna spluttered. “Are you insane! We’re being washed out to sea!”
Arran had been caught in rips before, both as a child and an adult, and his father had taught him and his brother at an early age what to do if caught in one. Jenna, though, was doing the exact thing that you should not do: panic and try to swim against the current.
He tightened one arm around her waist while he used the other to help him tread water. “Look at me,” he said. Jenna swallowed, then fixed wide, fearful eyes on him. “It’s all right. I’ve got ye. I willnae let anything happen to ye. Do ye trust me?”
Jenna swallowed again, her face pale and frightened. Then she nodded. “I… I trust you.”
An unaccountable warmth spread through him as she said those words. “Good. Then do as I tell ye for once and try to relax. Tread water but dinna fight against the current. Aye?”
Jenna nodded, and he felt some of the tension go out of her body although she kept her arms firmly wrapped around his neck.
They were very close, their faces only inches apart and Arran couldn’t help thinking how easy it would be to kiss her again and how much he wanted to.
It was a ridiculous notion considering their predicament, and he cursed himself for a fool, annoyed at how easily he seemed to lose his head around this woman.
The shore was rapidly receding into the distance and, glancing over his shoulder, he could see his men gathered along the shoreline, waving frantically.
He raised his free arm and waved back, indicating that he and Jenna were all right.
Like him, his men were well versed in the capricious currents that swirled around their island home and would know what to do.
The current swept him and Jenna through a narrow channel between two rocky islets where finally, it dispersed. Their rapid movement slowed and then stopped entirely, leaving them bobbing in water that was far choppier than in the sheltered enclave of the bay.
Arran’s arms and legs were beginning to ache from the strain of holding both himself and Jenna up and he knew it would be foolish to strike out for the shore now, when they were both tired. He glanced around, his eyes alighting on the nearest of the rocky islets.
“Can ye swim over there, lass?” he said to Jenna. “It isnae far, and we can take shelter and get our breath back.”
Jenna glanced at the islet and nodded.