Jamie nodded tightly, not trusting himself to speak. Together, they fled south.
Chapter Fifteen
Elise clung toJamie as they galloped at full pelt down a hillside and up the next, driving the horse to as great a speed as he dared.
She kept her arms clamped firmly around his waist to keep from being thrown off every time the horse jolted or they changed direction. But in truth, she was gripping him a little harder than strictly necessary. She clung to him as though she was drowning and he was the only thing keeping her head above the surface.
The aftermath of using her power had left her weak and woozy and she was still struggling to work out exactly what had happened back at the cove. It had all happened so quickly.
Perhaps she should have been pleased that she’d been proven right and discovered the pirate base and the conspiracy behind it.
But she wasn’t. She wasn’t pleased at all. Because it meant that Islay was in deep, deep trouble.
As they moved steadily south, she couldn’t help glancing back over her shoulder. Part of her expected to see king’s men riding after them, but the landscape behind remained empty. Hopefully, she’d managed to confuse their trail enough to give them a decent head start before Phillip and his cronies figured it out. She had no doubt they would be coming. They could not let Jamie escape. He was central to the king’s plans and without him, everything would fall apart.
She bared her teeth in a snarl. She wouldnotlet them have him.
The weather began to change as they rode, and thick black clouds came scudding across the sky. Jamie glanced up grimly but didn’t comment. Before long the clouds blocked the sun, leaching all color from the land until it seemed like they rode through a monochrome photograph of grays and blacks.
Then the rain hit. It came hissing out of the sky without warning, lashing down with enough force to make Elise gasp.
Great. Just bloody perfect.
But Jamie grinned savagely and glanced over his shoulder at her. “Fine Islay weather, eh? This is good! It will wash away our tracks and stop them from following!”
Elise’s teeth were chattering too hard for her to answer. She only tightened her hold, feeling the cold leach deeper into her bones.
By the time they reached the south coast, the world was a smear of gray, sea and sky and rain all blending together. The wind howled across the cliffs, carrying salt and spray. The horse was stumbling with exhaustion and Elise wasn’t much better.
Jamie guided them down a narrow path towards a cluster of old fishing huts wedged between two rocky spurs. Most of them were collapsed ruins. One, however, still had its roof and four solid walls.
They rode up to it and Jamie jumped to the ground. He put his hands around her waist and lifted her down, her legs nearly buckling when her feet touched the ground.
“Inside,” he commanded.
Elise didn’t bother to argue. While he took care of the horse, she pushed open the half-rotten door and went inside. The cottage’s interior consisted of a single room with a flagstone floor and a large fireplace at one end. It smelled of damp wood and seaweed and spoke of long abandonment. How long sinceanyone had been here? Years, she guessed. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering uncontrollably.
Jamie entered a moment later, letting in a blast of wind and rain before he slammed the door and wedged it closed. He glanced at her then strode to the hearth. He knelt, fingers moving with swift, practiced surety—gathering dry wood from a small pile left in the corner and stacking it with the instinct of a man who had grown up on wild shores.
She watched him. Even soaked to the skin, hair dripping, jaw set in grim determination, he looked utterly in his element.
A spark flared. Then another. Within moments he’d coaxed a flame into life, sheltering it with his hands as it caught the wood. Warmth—weak but glorious—began to fill the tiny room.
“Come sit,” Jamie ordered gently. “Ye are freezing.”
Elise slumped by the fire gratefully, pushing wet strands of hair out of her face and trying unsuccessfully to stop her teeth from chattering. She was exhausted, too tired to use her magic to dry them, and the cold seemed determined to chew its way right through to her bones.
Jamie crouched in front of her, concern marring his handsome features. He took her hands in his, chafing them hard. The friction burned, but she didn’t protest. The feel of his skin against hers was like a balm, bringing warmth back into her frozen tissues, easing some of the tension that was knotting her muscles.
“You should be a masseur,” she said with a wry smile. “You’ve got the knack.”
He didn’t return her smile. His eyes were shadowed, full of pain.
“Jamie?” she asked. “What is it?”
He didn’t answer. He continued rubbing her hands but didn’t raise his head. She placed her hand over his to get his attention.
“Jamie. Talk to me.”
