Skye O'Malley Read Free Page B

other.”
    “Like it? Oh, Dubh, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned! Where …?”
    “Portuguese galleon got itself blown off course and then wrecked aways up the coast. We were just in time to save the captain from the scavengers. He was most grateful.”
    Anne said no more, but she read between the lines. It was obvious that her husband and his crew had battled coastal wreckers for possession of the damaged galleon. The O’Malleys had been pirates for centuries. It was their way of life. Undoubtedly the captain of the unfortunate ship and the survivors among his crew were now housed in the dungeons below, where they would spend the next several months awaiting ransom. Anne shuddered and reminded herself that such thoughts were not her concern.
    “And where’s my wee lass?” demanded the O’Malley.
    “Here, Da.” Skye rose from her chair and came forward.
    Seeing her garb, he frowned with disapproval. “Still riding astride, poppet?”
    “Don’t scold me, Da,” she wheedled him prettily. “It was you who taught me, and I simply can’t gallop Finn sitting sideways. It’s most unnatural.”
    The O’Malley cocked an eyebrow. “Must you gallop him? Wouldn’t a nice trot do you? You must think of the babes you’re going to bear Dom now, poppet.”
    She ignored his last remark. “Have you ever tried to trot with one leg slung over a pommel, Da? The last time I tried it I ended up with bruises all over my—”
    “Skye! We’ve guests!”
    For the first time her attention was drawn to the man by his side.
    “My Lord,” she heard her father say, “this is my youngest daughter, Skye, who will shortly be the bride of young O’Flaherty. Skye, this is Niall, Lord Burke, the MacWilliam’s heir.”
    “ Niall an iarain , Niall of the Iron,” she said softly. This was a famous man, the secret dream lover of half the maidens in Ireland.
    “I see my reputation precedes me, my lady Skye.”
    “It is an open secret that you are Captain Revenge, and that you conduct those daring raids against the English who live in the Dublin Pale. Of course, no one would dare accuse you of this.”
    “Yet you, my lady, do not fear me,” he murmured, holding her fast with his gaze until she blushed.
    The voice was deep and sure, but as smooth as fine velvet. She shivered. She raised her eyes to his. They were a silvery gray, and she imagined that in anger they would be colder than the far northern sea, but in the heat of passion they would be fiery warm like rich wine. Guilty color flooded her cheeks at these immodest thoughts. The gray eyes twinkled infuriatingly, as if reading her mind.
    He towered over her by a good eight inches. His smoothly shaven face had been tanned by the outdoors. The short-cropped hair was as midnight dark as her own.
    Raising her hand, he kissed it. It was all she could do not to snatch it away, for his lips burned her flesh like a brand. Sweet Mary, she thought, he’s so much more sophisticated than Dom, yet he’s only ten years older than I am.
    “My lord, welcome to Innisfana,” she murmured politely. Dear God! Was that husky, breathless voice hers? And why was Anne staring at her so strangely?
    Her father’s voice brought her back to reality. “These are for your dowry, poppet,” he said, handing her a marvelous collection of rubies set in gold. They were a necklace, earrings, bracelets, a ring, and a hair ornament. Everyone exclaimed, and Dom O’Flaherty congratulated himself as though he had been personally responsible for choosing his bride.
    Skye clutched the jewelry to her. Thanking her father, she left the hall. Damn! thought Anne O’Malley. She has been attracted to Lord Burke. And why not? Now why couldn’t Dubh have betrothed her to a strong, fierce man like Lord Burke instead of that vain boy, O’Flaherty?
    Skye walked up the stairs to her chamber with what she hoped was great dignity. She was quite surprised that she could move at all, for her legs were shaking