Incensed, she shoved her satchel between them and took another step back.Her heel caught on uneven ground, and she began to fall backward.When she tried to catch herself on her other foot, her boot slipped on wet, mossy rock.
Adam loomed in front of her.His eyes were wide.His brow was determined.
With haphazard grace, he snagged a fistful of her gown and catapulted her aside with brute strength.
She was tossed onto the grass on her hands and knees.
He was not so lucky.
She heard a great splash behind her.Apparently, the force required to save her from falling into the water had propelled him into the burn in her stead.
She turned in horror to see him rising from the stream like a disgruntled Neptune.
“Why did ye not heed my warnin’?”he sputtered, finding his footing.
He took off his velvet cap and squeezed the water from it.
As he slogged forward in his drenched clothes, she began to see the humor of the situation.She fell back onto her bottom, stifling her laughter as she regarded him over her knees.
“Oh, ye think ’tis amusin’, do ye?”he asked.
Shedidfind it amusing.He’d gone to such efforts to preserve her balance that he’d utterly upset his own.Now he looked like a peevish cat retrieved from a well.
Still, she was grateful.If she’d stumbled into the burn, she would have ruined her best gown.It was a noble sacrifice on his part.She was about to tell him that when he tossed his cap onto the bank and hauled his wet surcoat off over his head.He wrung it out as he waded toward the shore, finally draping it over the limb of a streamside rowan.
He might as well have removed his leine, for all the modesty it afforded him.Soaking wet, the knee-length transparent linen clung to every sculpted muscle, leaving little to her imagination.
He pulled off his boots, holding them upside down to drain out the water before setting them down on a mossy rock.Then, with no regard for propriety, he reached under his leine and began to unfasten his trews.
She meant to tear her gaze away.Sister Eve knew it was improper to look upon a man in a state of undress.
But Lady Aillenn was fascinated by his boldness—and the muscular thighs he revealed as he peeled off the trews.So entranced was she, she couldn’t remember what she’d intended to say to him.
He plucked the leine away from his body, rippling it to try to dry the linen.
“This may add an hour to our journey,” he warned.“I can’t very well show up lookin’ like a wet selkie.”
She nodded, though she thought if hewerea selkie, she would have gladly followed the fae creature into the water to drown.He was compelling and irresistible, even when the power of his gaze was diminished by strings of dark, dripping hair covering his face.
He strode near.For a moment, huddled on the ground, she froze.Another step, and she’d be able to see whether he was wearing braies beneath his leine.
But then he reached out his hand.She took it, and he pulled her upright.
“We should find a sunny spot to dry these,” he said, collecting his boots and cap and surcoat.
She looked away then to pick up her satchel.
Finally finding her wits, she said, “Thank ye.”
“For what?”
A wicked answer flew into her head.For letting me feast my eyes upon your body.
But that wouldn’t do.
Instead she replied, “For savin’ me.”
He gave her a dramatic sweep of a bow.“O’ course.”Then he winked.“Anythin’ for my sister.”
