"Two strong characters clash as attraction grows in this great historical romance."
Reviewed by Morgan Chilson
Posted January 15, 2006
Romance Historical
Istabelle O'Bannon has been commanding her own ship and
wreaking havoc on the seas, protecting the families in the
coastal towns of her home. Playing Robin Hood brings its
own dangers, and for once, she must appeal to her cousin,
Mangan, for help in fighting one of the most vicious
seafaring outlaws. But Istabelle isn't aware that Mangan, whom she hasn't seen
for years, has forsworn fighting and is in a monastery.
Mangan wants to help her, though, and sends a warrior,
Ruark Haagan in his place. Ruark unwillingly agrees to help
Istabelle and finds himself in the middle of chaos before
he's even aware that Istabelle believes him to be her
cousin. He's not too sure how to go about setting the record
straight -- and he's not sure that he wants to. As a cousin,
he's allowed a certain familiarity with Istabelle and he's
beyond intrigued by the beautiful sea captain. As the two
set sail in search of the outlaw, Ruark is frustrated
because Istabelle won't tell him what was taken from her
that is so important. Istabelle and Ruark are two strong warriors whose clashes
are as entertaining as their growing attraction. Both are
used to command and to fighting and you'll turn the pages
if, for no other reason, to find out who triumphs. Their
battles conceal two people who are aching inside for
someone to trust and love, and you'll be anxious to read
the last word to make sure they finally shed their
responsibilities and think of themselves for a little
while. A very good book!
SUMMARY
Beautiful, brave, and wildly impetuous, Istabelle O'Bannon
is a daring sea captain who protects coastal villages from
those who raid them. She calls no port home and does as
she
pleases. But now she is desperate to reclaim one of her
most precious treasures from a vicious outlaw-and she
trusts only one man to help her.
Excerpt"I am no lady." "So I have determined." Ruark sent his stallion leaping
forward, swiped up the branch and swung it at the woman's
hands. She shrieked and her mare danced backwards, almost
unseating her. "I warn you! I will not hesitate to use my
sword against you!" Ruark pulled his stallion to a walk, sensing a thread of
uncertainty in her voice. Clearly she knew how to hold the
weapon, for her grip was firm and well-positioned, but he
doubted that she would strike him. He stalked forward,
forcing her to back up toward the cliff. The woman glanced back, realizing that the drop-off was
close behind her. She frowned as the warrior crept forward. She pulled her
horse back again and again until the mare's feet slid on
the loose stone. "Stay back!" she commanded, her voice
beginning to shake. "I have no wish to kill over a game.
My adversaries are far more important than you. I
acknowledge my defeat. You caught me as I did not think
you could." "I think you have rarely admitted defeat," he purred,
pleased to throw her own words back at her. "Give me my
belongings." The woman fumbled with the saddle ties and finally
released the broadsword and the bag of coins. "Back away
and I will leave them on yonder granite. After I depart,
you can retrieve them." He nodded and pulled his stallion back several steps, but
as she placed the sword and bag on the rock, he moved
closer again. "You promised to let me go on my way!" she cried in dismay
as he picked up the blade and turned it in his hand. It
felt warm from her grasp, and again he felt his nether
regions stir. "I promised nothing. We still have the matter of your
thievery to resolve." He gathered the coin bag and tied it
onto his horse's saddle. The woman's mare tossed her head up and down and she
whinnied nervously. "Since you now have the objects in question, there was no
theft." "I see it differently." He shifted closer. "It seems fair
that you should pay me for my troubles. Give me something
I would value and I will let you go." He grinned at her
affronted look. "I think not! I will not give you any of my goods. You are
a warrior. Is it not against your code of honor to take
from those who are weaker than you?" He laughed. "You speak of knights. I am a paid warrior
with little honor. I fight the weaker clans with pleasure,
and get paid for each man I murder. Pleading to my sense
of chivalry is useless." "A man without honor is no man at all!" she shouted. Abruptly angered, he pressed his steed closer and raised
his sword. "I am done with this discussion. You have
nowhere to go, mistress. Surrender." She pulled her mare around and peered over the cliff. "Don't be ridiculous," he snapped. "If you jump, you could
die." She made the mare back away from the edge, then glared at
him over her shoulder. "Should I die, twill be your
fault!" Then, before he could move forward and catch her,
she kicked her mare and forced her to leap off the cliff. Woman and horse flew through the air, the sun striking
against her sparkling skin and shimmering hair as if she
was a golden nymph floating in the windy currents above
the sea, but unlike the faeries, her body plummeted down
toward the water below. Ruark gasped in horror, unprepared for such a reckless and
unprecedented action. He sprang off his stallion and
scrambled to the cliff edge in time to see her and the
horse hit the water. A great splash exploded around them,
and then they sank from view. "God have mercy," he whispered. "What a fool! Isn't your
life more precious than your pride?" He stared at the
lake, willing them to come to the top. He waited for the
wild woman to break the water line and laugh up at him, to
mock him for his refusal to follow her rash act. But she
didn't. Suddenly the mare surfaced, whinnying in fear. She
struggled under the weight of the saddle, then managed to
keep her head above water as she headed for shore. The
woman still did not appear. "Damn!" Ruark growled. For a few more seconds, he debated.
From what he already knew of her, she could be swimming
far beneath the water and would surface under some hidden
outcropping. Or she could be drowning. "Damn, damn!" he
repeated. Making a decision, he flung his sword into the grass. He
took a deep breath and, without considering the reasons,
he dove off the cliff. The long free-fall lasted for eons-
his heart stopped and his breath held- until it came to an
abrupt, chilling end as his hands and head broke the
lake's surface and he plunged into the water. He kicked, swimming hard as he searched the depths. Blue
light filtered around him, shimmering with a magical glow.
Deeper and deeper he swam until the light darkened and he
could barely see his own hands. He had to find her! He had
to touch her! Then, almost at the lake floor, he felt the
soft brush of her hair. He grabbed it and yanked. Istabelle let herself drift. She did not fight the heavy
skirts that pulled her far below the surface, for she knew
she could not fight the water. Instead, she accepted the wet embrace and worked quickly
at her skirt ties. But rather than release under her deft fingers, the
strings knotted and refused to give. Panic started to overwhelm her, but she forced it back.
She was a sea captain! She could not afford to lose
control. She held her breath and worked at the knot,
desperately attempting to free herself. The urge to
breathe snuck upon her and she bit her lip, demanding that
her body obey her mind. Black spots flickered on the
fringes of her vision and she became dizzy. Her fingers
slowed. A burst of pain erupted from her scalp as the warrior
gripped her hair and wrestled her heavy weight to the
surface. At first she struggled, but her efforts were
feeble and she gave up within seconds. The strong upward
pull was welcome and she gazed up at the man who was
rescuing her. At last, they reached the top and he lifted her up,
treading water so she could take a life-giving breath of
fresh air. She gasped with relief, holding his shoulders
with white-knuckled tightness, but the weight of the
skirts started to drag them both down once again. As the
warrior slipped under the water, she remembered the dagger
strapped to her calf. "My knife," she gasped. "On my
leg..." He slid his hand down her waist and hip, then fought to
find her skin beneath the yards of cloth. They both dipped
under the water for a moment. He released her in order to swim upwards, but her body
dropped quickly and he was forced to dive after her again. Under the crystal blue water they stared at each other.
Bits of mica that had covered her body formed a sparkling
cloud around her, dancing in her swirling hair. Her silver
eyes looked like the shimmering surface of a fish- or the
magical scales of a mermaid. Her blouse floated away from
her chest, revealing a rounded cleavage, then washed flush
against her, enticing him. She pulled her skirt up and wrapped her legs around his
waist. They sank together, deeper, until the water became
cooler. She leaned onto him, pressing her body against his
and he could think of nothing but the feel of heaven in
his arms. Then the cold press of her strapped dagger urged him back
into action and he shoved her skirts fully up and ran his
hands down her thighs, down her calves, until he located
the small weapon. He yanked the blade out of its leather
casing. Using his free hand, he held her blouse away from
her skin and sliced downwards, severing the cloth in two.
Then, as the material drifted away, he slid his hand into
her waistband and did the same to it. With quick, efficient strokes, he cut the ties and the
first several inches of her skirts, until they, too, sank. Released of the heavy weight, she unwrapped her legs and
allowed the final bits of material to slip away, then she
swam for the surface. He followed, and they broke the water line together.
Heaving with relief, he searched her face quickly,
assuring himself that she was well. Only a thin barrier of
linen covered her body, and the water had turned it
translucent. Intense desire surged through him and he
reached to enfold her, to kiss her, to taste her.
What do you think about this review?
Comments
No comments posted.
Registered users may leave comments.
Log in or register now!
|