But the little girl was already running, her bare feet slapping against the wooden planks as she raced back toward the castle.
“I’ll tell everyone nae to bother ye!” she called over her shoulder.
And then she was gone, disappearing up the path and leaving them alone in the quiet morning.
Murdock released Leona’s hand and reached for the hem of his tunic. The linen slid over his head with practiced ease, and he was pleased to see Leona’s eyes widen as she took in his bare chest.
“Ye truly are serious,” she commented, but there was less conviction in her voice now.
“Deadly serious.” He folded his tunic and set it on the dock. His fingers went to the laces of his boots. “Ye heard me daughter. We need to practice.”
“Practice swimmin'.” Leona’s voice had gone flat.
“Practice lookin' like we want to be together.” Murdock pulled off one boot, then the other. “Practice actin' like a betrothed couple rather than two people playin' at it.”
He straightened and found her staring at him. Not at his face, but lower. At the breadth of his shoulders, the muscles in his chest and arms, the trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath his belt.
Heat curled in his gut.
“Turn around, lass,” he said quietly.
Her eyes snapped to his face. “What?”
“Yer bodice.” He moved behind her, close enough to smell the scent of her hair, soap, and something floral. “It has laces, aye? Ye’ll need help with them if ye’re going in the water.”
He stood there, waiting. Giving her time to refuse, to put an end to this before it went somewhere neither of them could come back from.
She didn’t.
Instead, after a long moment, she turned her back to him. “Just… just the top laces. I can manage the rest.”
Murdock’s hands were steady as he reached for the laces of her bodice, but it took every scrap of discipline he possessed to keep them that way. The fabric was damp from Skye’s splash, clinging to Leona’s curves in ways that made his mouth go dry.
He worked the knot free, then loosened the laces one by one. Slowly. Carefully. Trying not to think about the fact that he was undressing her. That she was letting him.
“There.” His voice came out rougher than intended. “That should do.”
“Thank ye.” She stepped away quickly, putting distance between them. “I’ll… I’ll just…”
She gestured vaguely toward the trees that lined the shore, then fled in that direction.
Murdock waited until she was out of sight before stripping off his trews and smallclothes.
The morning air was cool against his skin, but he barely felt it. His body was already reacting to the promise of what was to come. Of Leona in the water beside him, both of them wearing nothing but their shifts, skin slick and bare.
He waded into the loch before she returned, needing the cold shock of water to clear his head. It helped, somewhat. The temperature was bracing, pulling his focus back from dangerous territory.
By the time Leona emerged from the trees, Murdock had swum out far enough that the water came to his shoulders. He turned to watch her approach and nearly forgot to breathe.
She’d removed her gown and bodice, remaining in just her shift. The thin linen clung to her curves, outlining the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips. Her hair was fully loose now, falling in dark waves down her back.
She was beautiful. Absolutely, devastatingly beautiful.
She hesitated at the water’s edge, wrapping her arms around herself in a gesture that might have been modesty or simply cold.
“This is madness,” she called out.
“Probably,” Murdock agreed. “But we’re already mad for agreein' to this scheme, aye? Might as well commit to it fully.”
