than half a mile," he replied. "I built it upon a rise to have a better view of the sea."
She smiled. "That should be lovely."
"It is," he bragged.
"We'll take a coach," she said. "Or a wagon. No horses for you for awhile."
His heart ached at her care for him. "Whatever you think best."
Celeste met his gaze. "Sierran, I am not accustomed to having my words accepted," she said. "Nor am I
accustomed to being asked my opinion or being expected to do anything save nod and agree. If I am
behaving in a bossy manner…"
He reached out to put his palms against her cheeks, tipping her face up gently. "No one has ever cared
enough about me to make sure I'm looked after, Celeste. Boss me all you will."
She blushed. "You may regret saying that," she warned him.
"I think not," he said in a husky voice and bent forward to claim her lips—something he'd wanted to do
since she awoke.
Celeste opened her lips to his gentle assault and met his thrusting tongue with her own, sweeping past his
to flick across the arch of his mouth.
Sierran pulled back, hiked one dark brow, and grinned. "Madame, you and I are going to…"
The knock that came on the cabin door before it was rudely thrown open stiffened Sierran's body and
the angry look that passed over his face made Celeste's eyes open wide with fright. She stared up at him
as his attention shifted furiously from her to whoever had dared enter the cabin uninvited.
"Sierran, I should have known you had a doxy in here! No wonder you've kept me waiting!"
Celeste whipped around.
"Why you…!" she began but Sierran pushed her gently but firmly aside.
"You've the manners of an ass, Vaughn," Sierran stated. "And if you ever call this lady a doxy again, I'll
break your gods-be-damned jaw!"
Vaughn Morgan's eyebrows shot up. "The devil you will, you little whelp! I'll beat you black and blue
for?" He started forward only to have the woman beside his brother block his path.
"You lay a hand to him and I'll scratch your eyes out, you unspeakable boor!" she said, hands planted on
shapely hips, her bosom heaving.
Sierran put his hands on her shoulders to move her out of the way but she shook him off.
"Get the hell out of our cabin," Celeste shouted.
"Who is this termagant, Sierran?" Vaughn demanded, taking a step back for the woman in question had
actually tried to kick him.
"I am…" Celeste began but her husband slipped a hand over her mouth and pulled her back against him,
wincing at the contact of her back against his injured chest.
"Just go up top, Vaughn, and we'll be along as soon as my lady is dressed," Sierran said, gritting his teeth
against the pain he was experiencing.
"Don't you dare dismiss me, Sierran," Vaughn snapped in a gruff voice. "I?"
"Go!" Sierran yelled. "Now!"
So amazed his younger brother would dare raise his voice to him, Vaughn took another step back but
retaliation darted through his dark brown eyes and he lifted his chin. "You will regret speaking to me in
that manner, Sierran DeLyle Morgan!" he hissed and spun around to stomp out of the cabin.
Celeste dug her elbow into her husband's stomach to make him release her. He gasped as his hands fell
away from her shoulders and when she turned around, the front of his shirt had red streaks staining the
"Oh, Sierran, no!" she said. She put her hands out to him but he stumbled back.
"Don't," he said, holding up a hand to stop her. Her elbow had connected with the stitch she had taken
in his flesh and the wound had broken open again.
"I'm so sorry," she said, tears flooding her eyes. “Oh, Sierran, forgive me.”
Despite the pain throbbing in his chest, he grinned. "My brother has it right, sweeting. You are a
termagant when you're riled."
"That man can’t be kin to you," she gasped.
"My eldest brother," he said. He plucked the shirt away from his chest and flinched. "I have three others
but he’s the worst of the lot."
Vargas suddenly appeared in the doorway of the cabin. "I