what I really want to know. Are ye going
to waste yer free time or find the boldness to enjoy it?”
“I do nae need to accept yer invitation to do as I please, now that Abigail is finished
with me for the night.” She walked past him to prove it. The night air was cool and
fresh, making her smile. With her belly full, her energy returned. She made her way
to the stables, and her mare let out a sound of greeting.
But Saer was the one who fit the bridle over the mare’s muzzle. He rubbed her head
gently too, showing he had a care for her feelings.
“I am nae riding with ye,” Nareen insisted.
“I’m sorry ye lack the courage to be in me company.”
She stiffened and faced him. “It is nae about courage.”
Saer turned, his kilt flaring out as he slid a hand around her waist and pulled her
against his body. She pressed her hands against his chest, but lost the urge to push
him away when she felt how hard his body was beneath his shirt.
“Ye should wear a doublet.”
He cupped her nape and leaned his head to the side so she felt his breath against
the skin of her neck.
“And miss the feeling of yer hands against me skin? Nae, lass. I came here for ye.
It is yer touch I was determined to feel.”
She trembled. “Have ye no shame?”
It was a foolish question, considering their position. He lifted his head and locked
gazes with her.
“What I have, is no use for pretense. Clothing is for keeping warm. I am nae cold,
but ye can feel that, cannae ye, lass?”
She could, and it pleased her in a way she had never thought of before. The urge to
slide her hand along the ridges of hard muscles covering his chest was gaining strength,
undermining her determination to remain unmoved. In another few moments, she’d be
nothing but a servant of her cravings.
“Fine. I’ll ride with ye.”
His eyes narrowed, and the grip on her nape tightened just a bit.
“So release me, and I’ll accept yer invitation.”
He grunted, frustration clear in his expression. But he complied, opening his embrace
to allow her free.
“I think ye are toying with me, Nareen.”
She grasped her mare’s bridle and began to lead her from the stable. “No more than
ye are with me, Laird MacLeod.”
She was sure truer words had never been spoken.
He chuckled, sending a blush onto her cheeks. “Which only proves what a fine match
we’d be.”
It only proved how well he could find her weaknesses. She should turn around. It would
be the sensible thing to do, but she didn’t. The night was warm enough and the air
so fresh. A smile curved her lips, and she simply didn’t have the strength to turn
her back on the freedom she’d find in a night ride.
At least riding was a weakness she might indulge in.
But she would have to make certain it was the only weakness she allowed to be fed
tonight.
***
Nareen didn’t wait for him.
She made her way through the yard as Saer readied his stallion to ride. He might have
caught up to her easily, but he trailed behind her. Perhaps stalk was a better word,
for it fit his feelings better.
She was going to use his name before the dawn.
It was a possessive thought, one he really had no business thinking. Nareen didn’t
belong to him, and she was a virtuous woman. Although riding out in the dark of night
didn’t fit the ideals of virtue. At least not for the more civilized—which he was
not.
Yet neither was Nareen.
Saer made his way through the open gate and swung up onto his stallion’s back. Beyond
the walls of the castle was the village, but Nareen didn’t ride toward the flickering
lights. She headed into the dark, where the starlight reflected off the stones.
He enjoyed the surge of anticipation warming his blood and grinned.
Savage. Aye, he was that. But Nareen Grant was wild, which made her his match. He
was looking forward to running her to ground, and the lass was going to enjoy it.
That was his solemn vow.
Two
For a
to waste yer free time or find the boldness to enjoy it?”
“I do nae need to accept yer invitation to do as I please, now that Abigail is finished
with me for the night.” She walked past him to prove it. The night air was cool and
fresh, making her smile. With her belly full, her energy returned. She made her way
to the stables, and her mare let out a sound of greeting.
But Saer was the one who fit the bridle over the mare’s muzzle. He rubbed her head
gently too, showing he had a care for her feelings.
“I am nae riding with ye,” Nareen insisted.
“I’m sorry ye lack the courage to be in me company.”
She stiffened and faced him. “It is nae about courage.”
Saer turned, his kilt flaring out as he slid a hand around her waist and pulled her
against his body. She pressed her hands against his chest, but lost the urge to push
him away when she felt how hard his body was beneath his shirt.
“Ye should wear a doublet.”
He cupped her nape and leaned his head to the side so she felt his breath against
the skin of her neck.
“And miss the feeling of yer hands against me skin? Nae, lass. I came here for ye.
It is yer touch I was determined to feel.”
She trembled. “Have ye no shame?”
It was a foolish question, considering their position. He lifted his head and locked
gazes with her.
“What I have, is no use for pretense. Clothing is for keeping warm. I am nae cold,
but ye can feel that, cannae ye, lass?”
She could, and it pleased her in a way she had never thought of before. The urge to
slide her hand along the ridges of hard muscles covering his chest was gaining strength,
undermining her determination to remain unmoved. In another few moments, she’d be
nothing but a servant of her cravings.
“Fine. I’ll ride with ye.”
His eyes narrowed, and the grip on her nape tightened just a bit.
“So release me, and I’ll accept yer invitation.”
He grunted, frustration clear in his expression. But he complied, opening his embrace
to allow her free.
“I think ye are toying with me, Nareen.”
She grasped her mare’s bridle and began to lead her from the stable. “No more than
ye are with me, Laird MacLeod.”
She was sure truer words had never been spoken.
He chuckled, sending a blush onto her cheeks. “Which only proves what a fine match
we’d be.”
It only proved how well he could find her weaknesses. She should turn around. It would
be the sensible thing to do, but she didn’t. The night was warm enough and the air
so fresh. A smile curved her lips, and she simply didn’t have the strength to turn
her back on the freedom she’d find in a night ride.
At least riding was a weakness she might indulge in.
But she would have to make certain it was the only weakness she allowed to be fed
tonight.
***
Nareen didn’t wait for him.
She made her way through the yard as Saer readied his stallion to ride. He might have
caught up to her easily, but he trailed behind her. Perhaps stalk was a better word,
for it fit his feelings better.
She was going to use his name before the dawn.
It was a possessive thought, one he really had no business thinking. Nareen didn’t
belong to him, and she was a virtuous woman. Although riding out in the dark of night
didn’t fit the ideals of virtue. At least not for the more civilized—which he was
not.
Yet neither was Nareen.
Saer made his way through the open gate and swung up onto his stallion’s back. Beyond
the walls of the castle was the village, but Nareen didn’t ride toward the flickering
lights. She headed into the dark, where the starlight reflected off the stones.
He enjoyed the surge of anticipation warming his blood and grinned.
Savage. Aye, he was that. But Nareen Grant was wild, which made her his match. He
was looking forward to running her to ground, and the lass was going to enjoy it.
That was his solemn vow.
Two
For a
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