Page 26 of Kilty as Sin
No’ a blueberry, ye ninny. Something red. A strawberry? This analogy needs work.
It wasn’t an analogy, ‘twas an insult.
Luckily, the argument with herself kept her from focusing on the fact she was walking—completely naked—toward a man who was staring at her.
That, and the fact the water seemed to have become colder the longer she stayed in it.
“Och, lass, are ye mad?”
Barclay—who’d been hanging her gown over the blueberry bushes near the horse, now pulled the extra plaid from the saddlebags and came jogging toward her. He didn’t stop when he reached the edge of the loch but splashed right out to meet her.
He yanked the chemise from her hands and bundled her up in the plaid as he lifted her. Vaguely, she tried to see where her undergown had gone to, but she had to admit, the plaid wasquitewarm.
Her teeth started to chatter when he placed her near a fallen tree beside the bushes. Muttering under his breath, Barclay stalked back out to the water, scooped up her chemise, and wrung it out again before hanging it beside her gown. He looked adorably disheveled, with that dark hair drying shaggily around his brow, and his lips pulled into a frown.
“I c-can take care of m-myself,” she managed around chattering teeth.
To her surprise, Barclay didn’t deny it. “Aye, I ken it, Grace. It’s just…”
Shaking his head, he broke off with a curse and squatted to pull together some driftwood for a fire.
Curious, she prompted, “J-just what?”
With a sigh, he sat back on his heels and looked up at her. The silence lasted longer than necessary, with her shifting her weight from foot to foot to try to stay warm, and him just watching.
Finally, he shook his head again. “I just wanted to take care of ye. If only for a little while.”
Oh.
She wasn’t certain how to reply to that, so she didn’t. Instead, she watched him light the fire, and fetch the water pouch she knew contained whisky.
“Here, lass,” he muttered, holding it out without meeting her eyes. “To warm ye up.”
“Th-thank ye.” She was still shivering, and even a sip of the warm brew didn’t seem to help. “I dinnae ken w-why I’m n-no’ warming—”
She bit her words off with a gasp when he tugged her toward him.
One moment she was standing, wrapped in his plaid…and the next, she was in his lap beside the fire, wrapped inhim.
And her mind went blank. “Oh. Hello.”
He really had the most adorable smile, didn’t he? “Hello.” His voice was low and sensual. It made her tingle, made her core throb.
“Are y-ye…”
“Shhh, Grace,” he prompted, and tucked her head under his chin as he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m warming ye.”
Oh.
Well, it was working, for certes.
With her knees tucked up against him and her cheek pressed to his chest, she could hear his steady heartbeat. Before her, the fire crackled merrily, and behind that she could see the late afternoon mists flirting with the still waters of the loch.
His arms kept her safe and warm, and made her think all sorts of delicious would-be-inappropriate-if-she-hadn’t-already-made-up-her-mind-about-this thoughts.
Against his chest, she smiled.
He had a sprinkling of hair across his muscles which tickled her skin. She lifted a hand beneath the blanket to brush at it, then decided that wasn’t enough. Her fingertips lightly skimmed across his chest, exploring.
