Free Sue-Ellen Welfonder - MacKenzie 07 by Highlanders Temptation A

a safe distance from the death-bringing rocks. Darroc glanced round at the huge troughs, his relief so thick he could taste it on the back of his tongue. All around them, the wretched bells tolled. Had he been alone, he would have risked putting an end to the infernal ringing.
    But with Conall and Frang onboard...
    His throat closed on thinking how near to unnecessary danger he'd brought them.
    "And now?" Conall huffed.
    "Just pull with me." Darroc gripped the oars tighter as the skiff plunged into a cresting wave. "It was a fool notion to try and get the bells. Yon skerries" - he flashed a glance at them - "are half submerged just now. At flood tide, only their tips will break the surface. I'm thinking the seas will wash away the bells - "
    Someone on the shore yelled.
    "Heigh-ho!" Conall glanced at the boat strand. "What are they going on about?"
    Men dashed along the water's edge, gesticulating. Dark figures limned against the high open hills rising behind the strand. Darroc understood their agitation, feeling it in his bones.
    "There's someone out here." He shot to his feet, causing the skiff to tilt and dip.
    He twisted around, trying to see behind them, over the tossing waves.
    But nothing stirred.
    Only what looked to be a great number of bobbing wine casks or barrels.
    Disappointed, he dropped back onto the thwart. "They'll be hoping we pull in a few of those casks," he said, flashing another glance at the men on the shore.
    "Pah!" Conall rolled his eyes. "The tide will bring 'em in, sure enough. I'm for - "
    It was then that Frang turned his head into the wind, nose high and quivering.
    He barked madly, his stare fixed on the barrels.
    Darroc looked again, shock slamming into him when he saw what appeared to be a clump of wet cloth spread across some of the barrels. Large cargo barrels that -
    he could see now - were lashed together like a raft.
    "God be good - that's a man!" He stared, horror stopping his breath.
    "Nae." Conall leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as they rowed furiously. "No'
    unless he has breasts. I say that's a woman!"
    Darroc scarce heard him, so intent was he on reaching the barrel raft. Even before they bumped up against it, he saw what his cousin meant. A young raven-haired woman lay on her back across the barrels, her face turned away from them, her long hair trailing in the water.
    "Saints o' mercy!" Darroc's eyes rounded. "You're right - it is a woman. Pray God she's alive!"
    Frang barked wildly, not even waiting for Darroc to grab the bow line and secure them to the odd raft. In a flash, he jumped onto the barrels, tail wagging.
    As soon as he did, a tiny red-and-white dog crawled from beneath the edge of the woman's sodden cloak. Shivering and bedraggled, the wee creature collapsed at Frang's feet. Obviously female, the little dog gave a whimper and lifted her head to peer up at him, her liquid eyes adoring.
    Frang threw a triumphant glance at the skiff and then turned a moony-eyed look on the smaller dog.
    He was clearly in love.
    Ignoring him, Darroc scrambled onto the raft and dropped to his knees beside the woman. His heart thundered, too, but for an entirely different reason. Was there a man living who could look on such a tragedy and not have his guts twist?
    The woman was too still.
    She wasn't breathing.
    Darroc reached for her, lifting her against him. She was cold, so cold. But the moment he touched her, something clenched inside him. Though near frozen - to him - she felt warm and vibrant, her pliant body molding to his. She'd been made for his arms. That surety filled him with dread. If she was dead, he knew a part of him would die, too.
    Crazy as that was.
    He looked down at her, everything in his world contracting until he only saw her beautiful limp form. Her breasts pressed against him and he willed his warmth to flow into her. This couldn't be the end for her. But she didn't respond at all. Her head only lolled to the side, the silky mass of her raven hair spilling across