Page 125 of Laird of Smoke
She imagined the happy years ahead of them.
Side by side, they would pursue their Greater Purpose.Doing good deeds.Helping those in need.Saving troubled souls.Teaching honor and respect, chivalry and charity to others.
She was imagining the exciting adventures they would embark upon when the road passed by a narrow deer trail.
“There’s a burn not far from here along this trail,” Adam said.“We can eat and drink.And I’d like to wash off the ashes.”
The burbling burn cut deep into the sod, rolling playfully along in the sunlight.Bright birches stood tall along the shore, and willows hung over the water.
Eve found her plaid and spread it on the soft bank.She prepared food from their satchels—hard cheese, oatcakes, butter, dried apples, and a jack of ale.
She was about to tell Adam it was ready when she heard a plash of water.
He’d stripped off his cassock and was wading into the middle of the burn.
Her breath caught.
The shimmering reflection of the sunlit waves danced upon his naked skin, illuminating every curve and muscle.His back looked like the strong trunk of an oak, and below, his buttocks tensed as he made his slow descent into the water—to his calves, his knees, his thighs.
The sight of him was doing curious things to her body.Her heart thrummed against her ribs.Her face suffused with heat.Her breath grew rapid and shallow.Her nether regions began to rouse like a flower after a spring rain.
As he sank lower in the water, his broad shoulders rose, and he shuddered once at the cold.
Then he plunged under all at once.
She gasped at his boldness.That water had to be icy.Now she was sure the Rivenlochs were descended from Vikings.
He shot back up again almost at once and made quick work of scrubbing the ash from his wet hair, his face, his beard.Then he sluiced the water up over his shoulders and chest.
Eve couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.He’d been well named, for he looked as perfect as God’s Adam to her.
Then she remembered she’d held that perfect body against hers.Kissed his delicious mouth.Caressed his supple muscles.
And now he’d vowed to tryst only with her for the rest of his life.
She was the luckiest lass in the world.
The thought of the heaven she’d found in his arms propelled her desire even higher.
Her tongue slipped out to lick her lip in speculation.
She wondered…
She spared a cursory glance around the trees to make sure they were alone.Then, while he rubbed his hands briskly over his ash-coated skin, she quickly removed her coif and veil and slipped out of her habit.
For Sister Eve, it was a brazen thing to do.But for Eve the adventurer, it was just another impulsive undertaking that thrilled her senses and excited her spirit.
She considered joining him in the burn.But she didn’t have his Viking blood.
Instead, she settled herself like a sunning selkie in the middle of the plaid and waited for him to notice.
He emerged, dripping and clean, shaking the water off and slicking back his hair with both hands.Then his gaze lit upon her, and he froze mid-step.
She watched as his chest rose and fell and smoky lust filled his eyes.Never had she felt so exposed and yet so desired.
His eyes grazed her slowly, lingering on each part of her, setting her afire inch by inch.
He approached cautiously, as if he feared he might frighten her off.
