Free Dragon Knight's Axe by Mary Morgan Page A

out hesitantly for the pouch. Peering inside, she sniffed its contents. “Mint?”
    “Aye, and other herbs,” he clipped out.
    The ship veered right, causing her to land right into his arms. Her scent enveloped him, stirring emotions, and thoughts he had buried long ago. All he could think of was flowers—wild and untamed. He wanted to bury his face in those curls. His fingers ached to touch, play, probe, and—not here, but on land.
    “Sorry,” she uttered softly.
    Muttering a curse, he leaned her back against the side of the ship. Giving her a brief nod, he walked briskly away. Grabbing his wrap from a large box, he brought it back to her along with his wine skin.
    She took the offered items and looked quickly away from him.
    Alastair squashed his lustful thoughts down. Thank the Gods they would reach land by nightfall. He wanted to be rid of her. They would have to stay with the MacGuinnes, and the thought made his gut churn. Making mental calculations, he figured it would be another couple of days to reach the O’Quinlan. They would require horses and clothing. Part of his problem with the lass was her trews .
    Outlandish.
    Disturbing.
    He glimpsed sideways, noticing when she bent over to retrieve the wine skin.
    Large hips meant for pleasuring him.
    His cock swelled at the invitation she presented.
    Enough! His trouble was he had gone too long without a woman. He should bed Noreen and be done with it. In truth, the idea did not appeal to his appetites. His beast craved a smaller buxom creature with big blue eyes and round hips.
    Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to look away. Slamming his palm against the ship’s side, Alastair welcomed the pain as it reverberated up his arm.
    No woman would control his beast.

Chapter Twelve
    “When the Dragon calls you, listen with your heart, for your eyes will deceive you.”
    Chewing on a piece of hard bread, Fiona kept her sight on the coastline. She had overheard Gunnar saying they would reach land soon. Would they think her strange if she shouted for joy when her feet touched solid ground?
    She tried to sleep, but with the constant motion of the ship, the men speaking, and her stomach threatening to heave, Fiona only dozed in and out of restless naps. Then, her nightmares descended.
    Huddling against one of the barrels, she turned her gaze toward Alastair standing all alone at the bow. His cloak flapped against a large muscular body. Leather pants molded to long, massive legs, but there was no denying what was underneath.
    Fiona shivered. Why did he stir such emotions in her? He was her captor—despite the fact he’d undid her bonds, she should despise him with all her being.
    Wake up, Fiona. Wake up.
    She sighed. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself, this place and time were very real. There was no way her brain could wrap around the idea of traveling back into the past. Yet, it’s exactly what had happened.
    Then she lifted her head and smiled. If there was a way back, then surely there was a way forward. Professors spoke of the science of time travel all the time. Of course, she always considered it fluff and preposterous. But not anymore.
    Hope flared inside her for the first time. Then another thought occurred to her. How am I going to return home when I don’t know how I came back in the first place? Biting her lip in frustration, she reached for the wine skin and hesitated before tossing it back down. Wine was not what she craved. Water or a strong cup of tea, even coffee would suffice.
    Closing her eyes, she rubbed at her temples, trying to ease the pain in her head. “God, please get us to land soon,” she muttered.
    “Aye, we shall be there soon.”
    Fiona slowly opened her eyes, craning her neck to look up at the man looming over her. Alastair’s brow was furrowed as he kept his hands on his hips. Again, something skittered over her senses. She didn’t understand it, nor could she speak. He either made her angry or mute.
    She just