Laura’s reply not only lingered with Erskine, but it wormed its way into his head and left him with building resentment. He was no longer angry at what she had done and had come to terms with that rather quickly the day before. She had seen a way to make her escape from a life she feared and crossed the country in order to do it. It showed resilience and strength—he admired her greatly for that.
She had saved his life too. He was indebted to her; how could he not forgive her deception?
Yet, he had had enough of the temptation of her, and that was what infuriated him now more than anything else. He had spent weeks imagining Billie’s pretty features on a woman, discovering she was, in fact, a woman had sent him over the edge. The way he looked at Laura these last two days…it was not just about liking the way she looked. No, it was more than that. It had a heat to it, passion, and a yearning so strong that the intensity of it frequently blindsided him.
As he watched Laura scamper off between the trees, he watched her disappear with interest.
She is goin’ to bathe.
That thought struck him and filled his mind with such images that he could not stay sitting. He stood slowly to his feet, glancing at the others around the controlled fire, but they were all fast asleep.
He had to confront her. Now. Had to talk to her. There was so much pent-up agitation, so much anger, now was the last chance he would have before they arrived home tomorrow.
He crept away from the fire, trying not to break any twigs and wake the others, but they all slept soundly. He looked away soon, trying to retrace the path he saw Laura take a few minutes before through the trees. He kept glancing in the direction of the water, hoping a glimpse of her would emerge. When he eventually did catch sight of her, he nearly tripped over in surprise.
She was half undressed. She was facing the water, standing on the very edge of the loch riverbank with her back turned to him. He kept himself hidden behind the trees, wary now of disturbing her and yet somehow unable to tear his eyes away.
The jacket, waistcoat, and shirt had gone, and her hands were now working to undo a tight linen binding that was wrapped around her chest. Erskine watched, entranced as she removed the binding, realizing it was what she had been using to flatten her chest. Next, she kicked off her boots and the breeches, sliding them quickly down the curve of her hips.
Erskine suddenly felt hot at the sight of her and leaned on one of the trees beside him. He could only see the back of her, but he had the perfect view of her slender curves and delicate stature.
She stepped carefully forward, her alabaster skin practically glowing in the moonlight as she stepped into the water. She reached up to her head and untied some string that was holding her hair together. As she loosened the knot, the tendrils fell about her neck. Short, yes, but still long enough to reach the nape of her neck.
Erskine had to keep his mouth closed, so tempted he was to call out to her and join her in the water.
She stepped forward again and then dove into the water. The sudden disappearance of her sleek body under the loch surface startled him, but she reemerged a moment later, her head above the water as she brushed her hair back from her face and smiled. At this distance, he could only just see the swell of her breasts above the water.
The sight of her so unbidden seemed to make the last barrier he had put between the two of them in his mind vanish. Now, his mind was full of images of the two of them together. He was thinking of how he could reach for her in that water and start exploring that elegant body. He could urge her back toward the riverbank, bend her down over it and part her legs, exploring the full extent of those curves with his hands, brushing her breasts, caressing those hips, until she was arching up against him, begging for more.
Laura…
He could imagine it so well, it almost felt real.
As she begged him, he would enter her, make love to her under the moon and the stars until she was clawing at his back, saying his name over and over again.
A splash in the water drew Erskine’s mind away from his dreams and back to reality. Laura was clearly enjoying her bathe as she twisted in the water, trying to loosen the knots in her short brown hair.
What has happened to me!?
He could not let her return to the fire without speaking to her, not now. He had to talk to her, but he did not know what words to use. He tapped his forehead against the tree beside him, hoping for some desperate reason that it would bring some sense to his thoughts, but it did nothing.
It was an infatuation, a strong one at that. He felt more desire for the petite woman in front of him than he had ever felt for any other woman.
He watched her for a good length of time, but as she swam back toward the riverbank, clearly about to climb out, Erskine stepped firmly behind the tree again, fearful she would see him. It meant that he did not get to see her from the front, but he hardly cared—what he had seen had been enough to spark his desire for a lifetime.
He waited, listening for the sounds of her drying before he bent his head around the tree again. She had dried quite a bit and had begun to change again. Her breeches were back on, the linen binding and the shirt too, which now hung loosely around her body, doing little to disguise her womanly curves. She was using a cloth to dry her hair, and it made the tendrils look wild. As she shook out her hair, causing them to dance around her face, Erskine lost control.
Now.
He stepped out from the tree and started walking toward her. The sound of his footsteps on the twigs beneath his feet made her head snap up in his direction. Even in the shadow, the moonlight was strong enough to show her eyes widening in shock.
“Erskine, what are you…” she trailed off and looked between the loch and him as he stopped, but a yard away from her. “How long have you been here?”
“Quite a while,” he admitted. Her eyes widened even more.
“Erskine! You were spying on me!” She marched toward him, anger suddenly flailing, causing the brown hair to dance wildly again. She was clearly trying to talk quietly, fearful that some distance away, one of the others would hear her, but he could still not miss the seething rage from her voice. “How dare you!”
“How dare I? Really!?” he scoffed, working hard to restrain his own voice as he too stepped toward her. “Quite frankly, I am still so stunned about yer own audacity over the last few weeks that I think any of me own transgressions pale in comparison.”
