The Red Drifter of the Sea (Pirates of the Isles #3) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,40

earlier, but Kyle’s single command to stop made her halt. She turned back to him, her eyes darting between the brothers. She had a momentary fear that they’d come below so they could each have a turn with her. Keith’s assessing, then appreciative gaze, told her he wouldn’t turn down the offer if it was made.

Thirteen

Kyle watched his brother as Keith openly admired Moira. The twins had shared everything since they were in the womb, and that often included the women they bedded. He’d never been possessive about anything when it came to Keith, and his brother had always been the same. He didn’t worry that Keith would begrudge him Moira’s company, but he also would make it clear that they’d finally found something that they wouldn’t both indulge in.

“Keith, this is Moira MacDonnell. Dónal’s sister,” Kyle announced with no preface. Moira startled, unprepared for Kyle to be so blunt, though she supposed it shouldn’t have surprised her.

“You mean Lizzie’s sister,” Keith grinned. Moira’s stomach roiled as she looked away. More than one man made the same assumption, but it was usually Lizzie’s tart words that disabused the men of the idea. When Kyle said nothing, Moira stepped forward. She didn’t understand what her role was, but Kyle had said she should stand tall, just as she had in front of his men. She decided that applied in the cabin as well. At least, for now.

“You know my sister?” Moira spoke up.

“By reputation,” Keith chortled.

“And I suppose you haven’t heard of mine,” Moira said archly. “Because they are not the same.” Her raised chin dared Keith to insinuate more.

“But your sister isn’t the one aboard a pirate ship, wearing a man’s clothes, or sleeping in my brother’s bed,” Keith pointed out.

“Who said I was sleeping there?” Moira flung back at Keith, accepting the challenge.

“Kitten’s got claws, Kyle. Has she been scratching your back?” Keith turned his taunts toward his brother, but he kept his eyes locked with Moira’s. They were an exact match for Kyle’s emerald orbs. Keith and Kyle were absolute mirror images of one another, Moira realized. Rowan and Ruairí looked tremendously alike, but Ruairí’s hair had always been a little longer and a little more sun-bleached than Rowan’s. There was virtually no way to tell Keith and Kyle apart, at least not one that Moira noticed. She thought they even stood alike. If she hadn’t noticed where Kyle had come to a stop, from sight alone she wouldn’t be sure which man was the one she wanted to bed. But nothing about Keith’s demeanor drew her as Kyle did. Just the opposite. She found him immensely unappealing.

“Enough, Keith. Sit and let’s talk,” Kyle barked. He waved Moira over and nodded toward the bed. He took the seat closer to the bed while Keith sat across from him. Moira stepped wide of Keith as she went to sit on the bunk. “Moira was aboard the MacDonnell ship.”

“Quite the plunder,” Keith snickered.

“Enough, or you can go back to the Grace,” Kyle warned, and Keith sobered. Moira wanted to slide as far back on the bunk as she could, but instead, she sat with her legs hanging over the edge.

“Testy. She’s left you with blue bollocks, has she?” Keith glared at Moira.

“Keith, I’m not jesting. Leave the lass alone,” Kyle infused more steel into his voice. Keith cast an assessing look at Kyle before he nodded. Something passed between the brothers that seemed to call a truce, but Moira didn’t understand what. She barely had a civil relationship with either of her siblings, let alone one where they silently communicated anything but animosity.

“What else did you find onboard?” Keith asked.

“Barrels of whiskey, all Irish,” Kyle snorted, and Keith grimaced. Moira wanted to take umbrage, but she remained silent. She thought Irish whiskey was far better than the Scottish drink she’d tasted, but the two pirates clearly disagreed. “Wool, salt pork, and cheese.”

“That’s it?” Keith asked in disbelief. Moira struggled to keep her face impassive, knowing the cargo had barely been worth the raid. It wasn’t meant to be. Her clan’s council had loaded just enough to justify the voyage if anyone had stopped them before they sailed out of port. Keith narrowed his eyes at Moira. “Why?”

“The lass left home. The men were taking her south,” Kyle explained with a shrug, downplaying the little truth he knew. “I was still glad for the extra cargo.”

“Where were you going, lass?” Keith pressed.

“South. I don’t know what was supposed to happen,” Moira