When they stopped to water their horses on the third day, they rested by a river that bordered a meadow of wildflowers. Cairstine convinced Eoin to allow her to pick flowers, but he insisted on escorting her. They walked through the high grass in silence until Cairstine found a patch of buttercups. She plucked one and turned to Eoin.
“Let’s see if it’s true,” she teased.
“See if what is true?”
“That you like butter if the flower reflects under your chin.” She didn’t hesitate to lift her hand to Eoin’s face and held the flower beneath his chin.
“What do you see?” he asked.
“Tell me first whether you like butter.”
“Shouldn’t you tell me if it reflects then I’ll tell you whether it’s right?” Eoin countered, but Cairstine shook her head. With a playful huff, he gave in. “Yes, I like butter.”
“I knew it! The flower doesn’t lie. Your chin is yellow,” Cairstine giggled.
Eoin bent down and plucked a flower and lifted it to her chin, but he frowned. “It seems you don’t like butter.”
Cairstine’s expression matched Eoin’s. “But I do. Are you sure?”
“Perhaps your face is already too radiant for me to see,” Eoin offered. He shocked himself with the sincerity in his voice. Cairstine beamed at the compliment.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She swayed toward him, and his arms wrapped around her. They stepped together as their mouths found one another. The kiss was tender and soft for several heartbeats, but then the irrepressible fire sparked between them. Eoin inched his hand toward Cairstine’s breast, once more giving her a chance to stop him. But instead she moaned and arched into his hand. Cairstine felt braver than ever before, first pushing Eoin’s sporran to the side, then hooking her fingers into his belt and pulling him closer. The clothes separating them gave her more courage.
Eoin eased the hem of Cairstine’s kirtle up until he could slide his hand along her thigh before grasping her buttocks. His hand traveled over the silky skin, running from her knee to her backside. During one pass, he lifted her leg and hooked it over his hip.
“Do you want me to touch you again?” Eoin murmured.
“Aye,” Cairstine breathed.
Eoin eased her down to the grass, careful to keep her covered lest someone discover them. His fingers slipped into her sheath as he groaned at how wet she’d grown so quickly.
“I confess I seem to be like that any time I’m near you,” Cairstine whispered. “I can’t seem to help it.”
“My body has the same reaction, Cairrie.” Eoin pressed his thumb against her pearl, circling it over and over, adding pressure until Cairstine’s hips rocked against his hand. He kept his fingers shallow, still unsure of what he’d discovered the last time they laid together like this. When he felt her tense, he brought his mouth to hers, swallowing her cries of ecstasy. He continued to wreak havoc on her senses until she climaxed twice more. Breathless, Cairstine watched as Eoin eased her skirts back down. She tugged on his leine, and she offered the sweetest kiss he’d ever had. Afterward, Cairstine picked more flowers and tied them into a chain she wore around her neck, just as she had as a child. Bram teased, but Eoin intuited Cairstine’s lighter mood was a relief to the guardsman.
On their fourth day, they arrived at their first mountain pass. Cairstine kept her eyes ahead of her as Bram led the group up the mountainside. Eoin maneuvered himself behind Cairstine, so he could watch for any sign of danger. The horses inched along the narrow ledge, at times hundreds of feet above the ground with rocks chipping away under their weight. Eoin knew men terrified of heights who refused to travel if they had to do so through the mountains, but Cairstine didn’t flinch despite sharing her aversion to heights. He suspected she’d made the journey through the Cairngorms nearly as many times as he had.
They came to a section of the pass where they had to dismount and lead their steeds, and Eoin’s horseGun Eagal, or Fearless, embarrassed him when the mount was the first to balk about the precarious path, while Twinkle pranced behind Cairstine as though she enjoyed the danger. When they made it to safe ground, Cairstine turned to look at Eoin, offering him a wolfish grin before bursting into laughter. Eoin pursed his lip and shook his head as he stroked the bridge of Gun Eagal’s nose.
They made camp early that evening, their exhausted horses glad to munch grass and drink from the stream. Eoin built a fire after his men gathered wood and tinder, and he noticed Cairstine speaking with Bram. She nodded and fetched her dirk from her saddle. She moved toward the treeline while Bram went in the opposite direction. Eoin realized Cairstine wasn’t going into the woods for privacy since Bram usually stood on the other side of a tree or bush from her. Eoin rushed to Cairstine’s side.
“Where’re you going?” Eoin demanded.
Cairstine looked askance at him. “To hunt.” She waved her dirk between them.
“Alone,” he accused.
“No. Bram is going too.”
“Then why isn’t he with you? You were going into the trees alone.”
“Only a few feet from him.” Cairstine pointed over Eoin’s shoulder, and he glanced back to see Bram waiting. “We’re setting traps for rabbits and squirrels. We need to set them a ways apart from each other, and we’ll catch something sooner if we divide the task.”
“You’re not traipsing through the woods alone, Carrie.” Eoin crossed his arms, lifted his chin, and stood to his full height.
“Oh, stop it. You don’t scare me.” Cairstine dismissed Eoin’s command and made to step around him.
“I’m serious, Cairrie. I’m coming with you. We’ve crossed into Forbes territory, and we aren’t on good terms with them right now. They’re bound to have seen us and recognized our Gordon plaids. Your men may wear the Grant plaids, but our clans are allies, and you’re traveling with us. That puts you in danger.”
