Page 25 of Never Kiss a Scot
He ate a little of his breakfast, trying to give Joanna as much time to rest as he could. Then when he felt he could wait no longer, he gently shook her arm, and she sighed, rolling onto her back, her lashes fluttering as she came awake. Damnation, he wanted to kiss her, wanted to feel her soften in his arms as he woke her the way a husband ought to wake his wife—with passion and ardor.
“Good morning,” he greeted her softly, and held out the flask, cheese, and bread. If she was eating, it might get his mind off how much he wanted to roll her onto her back and kiss her. There wasn’t time for that, not yet. They had to keep moving.
Joanna blinked owlishly against the morning sun as it crested the trees above them in bright-red shades. “Morning,” she replied before she took the food and drink.
“Well, lass, you survived your first night beneath the stars,” Brock said as he leaned back against the tree beside her.
“I did, didn’t I?” She looked proud of herself, and her pride amused him.
He knew she was a gentle-born lady, not used to roughing it out on the ground like he and his brothers were. The fact that she’d made no complaints while trying to sleep beneath a tree in a light rain with no soft pillows or warm fire impressed him.
He stood, resting back against the tree as he let her finish her breakfast, but after a few moments she moved closer, leaning her shoulder against his leg where he stood, and he couldn’t resist reaching down to stroke her hair. It seemed like such a luxury to touch her, to know that she soon would fully be his to cherish and protect. The thought filled him with a boyish giddiness he hadn’t felt in years.
Brock stayed alert, his eyes on the road, making sure he did not see anyone. He could not guess how quickly Lennox would realize Joanna was gone. And once he did, it would then be a question of which route Lennox would assume they would take.
When he had taken Rosalind back to Scotland a month ago, he had not used the Great North Road, nor had he used this lesser-traveled road. He’d taken his sister overland, knowing she could handle sleeping on bedrolls on the ground for several days. But with Joanna he needed to stay on the actual road, because it would be safer for her as an inexperienced rider. As long as he could keep Lennox guessing as to their path, and if they managed to stay ahead of him, they might reach Gretna Green without any difficulty.
Joanna stood, offering him back his greatcoat. She straightened her own cloak before glancing about.
“Um… I need to…” She blushed, and he knew instantly what she needed.
“There’s a thicket not too far off. You may go over and see to your needs. We’ll be reaching a stream in a few hours where we can wash a bit and let the horses quench their thirst.”
Joanna nodded and then rushed off in the direction he had pointed out to her. She returned a short while later, and he helped her mount her mare.
They rode for three hours, passing several farmers out in their fields while their cattle grazed. A flock of sheep crossed the road, and a farmer and his exuberant collie herded them onward to a pasture on the other side of the road. Joanna seemed to marvel at the sights, laughing as the collie nipped at the heels of the more stubborn sheep. Brock loved the way her smile seemed make her face glow. The shadows and the pain he’d glimpsed in her last night were not here today. She was bravely facing her new life with him, and he was damned proud that he would soon call this woman his wife.
They reached a small wooden bridge with a stream flowing beneath it. Brock led the way, guiding his horse over the bridge. They rode their horses through the shallows a quarter of a mile downstream where they could rest unseen from the road.
“I’ll tend to the horses if you wish to bathe.” Brock grabbed the reins of her horse and urged it along with his own to the stream bank. The two horses were grateful for the water, and he allowed them to have their fill. When he returned them to the shelter of the trees alongside the stream, he found Joanna had removed her boots and stockings and was wading knee-deep into the water. She kept careful hold of her skirts, and he caught a tantalizing view of not only her bare ankles but the curves of her calves. She had lovely legs. Brock drew in a measured breath as he imagined those legs wrapped around his waist.
“Brock, are you all right?” Joanna called out to him.
“Aye, I’m fine. Why?”
“Oh, it’s just your jaw was clenched and” She didn’t finish.
He dared not tell her the direction of his thoughts. It would likely frighten her to learn the depths of his desire.
“I’m fine,” he assured her again, forcing himself to relax.
She splashed about the shallows, kicking up water and dancing on the flat smooth rocks large enough to be stepping-stones. He had become so used to her as a fine, composed English lady that it was a surprising delight to see her act so playful now.
“There are tiny fish in here.” She turned his way, a radiant expression of delight on her face as she pointed to the stream.
Unable to resist, Brock joined her in the shallows, his boots sturdy enough to resist a bit of water.
“Have you not seen fish before?” he teased, and caught her by the waist when she wobbled on an unsteady stone.
“I have, of course, but…” Her brow furrowed as she met his gaze. “It’s just that…my mother never really let me go outside, not like this. I was only allowed to walk, sit, or ride. I was not permitted to swim, to run about, to fish—not like my brothers.”
Brock’s heart ached for her. Every child should be free to explore the world around them.
He cupped her face in his hands. “As my wife, and the lady of Castle Kincade, you may run about the woods and splash in our loch as much as you desire. I’ll even show you how to fish.” He could think of nothing more delightful than taking her out on the water in a small boat, the sun beaming brightly on the water as he showed her the pleasures of fishing.
“Would you really?” Her eyes widened, and her voice held a hint of shyness that made him want to tip her head up and kiss her senseless.
He stroked a fingertip down the line of her adorable nose. “Of course.” His body hummed with arousal, but also with something softer, sweeter. He couldn’t deny that he had a strong affection for his future wife.
