“And clearly your brutish urges have not diminished,” she replied, throwing a veil of playful hauteur over her unease. “At least I was quick to don my gown just now; otherwise you might be in danger of another thump on the head.”
He regarded her with amusement, his eyes like gemstones, and she felt the familiar embers of excitement burning into her skin, penetrating her nerves. It was asthrillingas fireworks.
“Do you mind if I go dip myself in your bathwater?” he asked. Without waiting for a reply, he began to unfasten his brooch and unravel his tartan. “Surely you’llappreciate it later when we mount Turner together. You’llprefer it if my whiskers are scraped off, so I don’t scratch your tender skin when I’m straddled close behind you.”
Why did he feelcompelledto say such things? It made her heart beat fast with alarm.
She worked hard to speak in a detached tone while inching sideways to move past him, for they were wedged tightly between a cupboard and a chair. She was painful y aware of the thick muscles of his chest as her breasts brushed up against him, and as a result her heart catapulted into her ribs. She had to work hard to keep the hot stinging blush from her cheeks, for she would rather die than let him see what he did to her.
“That would be greatly appreciated,” she said, “because yousmelllike sweat.”
He chuckled softly, his tone low and sensual. “I was out in the yard with the lads, kicking aballaround.”
“Sounds like a lovely way to pass the time.”
“There are better ways.”
He backed into the curtain. Itfellgraceful y closed behind him, wafted in the air for a second or two, then wentstill.
Amelia was left standing there in the front room, aimless and deeply unsettled by the heavy pulsing of arousal inallher muscles and limbs. She felt like she was made of putty andallhe had to do was touch her and she would soften and bend for him.
A few seconds later, she heard the sound of water sloshing about in the tub and knew he wasfully immersed in her bathwater, naked, as she had been. Thinking about that—imagining the awesome spectacle of his nudity, and her very own water pouring over and caressing his thick, sleek muscles—was more than a little disconcerting.
She moved away from the curtain and looked around for something to do to keep her mind occupied, but this was not her cottage and even if it was, she wouldn’t have the slightest idea what needed to be done. She was the daughter of an aristocrat, and she’d always relied on servants to take care of household chores.
Feeling uncomfortable and fidgety, Amelia wandered to the door andpulledit open. The sunshine was bright and warm on her face. She raised a hand to shade her eyes and watch the children, who werestillkicking aballaround in the stable yard, when suddenly Gawyn’s ruddy face appeared in front of her eyes.
“What are you up to, lassie?”
She nearly jumped out of her skin. “Gawyn! Must you startle me like that?”
“Duncan told me to guard the door,” he said, “so I’m justfollowingorders.”
“I see,” she replied, taking a deep breath.«Well, I am not attempting to escape. I had nothing to do, so I thought I would see what everyoneelsewas doing.”
“They’re playingball, lassie. And I didn’t think you’d try to run off. I’m here to guard against the English. You never know when a red-coated thug might try to steal you back. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you about the soldiers at the loch.”
Amelia cleared her throat.«Well, thank you. I do appreciate your efforts.”
He nodded courteously.
“Do you know what Duncan has planned for today?” she asked, in an attempt to make casual conversation.«Willwe stay here another night?”
“Nay, lassie, we’llbe heading out very soon, moving south toward Moncrieffe. It’s a two-day ride.”
“Moncrieffe?” Her heart wentstillin her chest at the possibility of traveling south toward asmallorb of civilization in the middle of this wild foreign land. This was good news.
Perhaps Duncan would release her to the earl—if in fact he intended to let her live, which she now believed he did. At least that was what he had promised last night. And this morning he seemed genuinely beholden to her for saving his life. Her welfare and happiness might even be a matter of honor to him now.
But then she remembered his primary objective, which had nothing to do with delivering her to safety, and felt a disturbing pang of uncertainty. He might be beholden to her
—and he had certainly enjoyed flirting with her just now—but he wasstillstalking Richard, and when they arrived at Moncrieffe, Richard might have to fight for his life and his reputation in a savage, bloody battle for revenge.
“Thank you, Gawyn,” she said before she retreated into the cottage and closed the door.
It was quiet inside. Almost too quiet. There were no sounds of water splashing, or the scraping of whiskers under a razor, which made her wonder if Duncan was asleep in the tub.
“Aye, lassie, it’s true,” he said from the back room, crushing that theory when his deep tantalizing voice reached out to her through the curtain. “We’re riding south toward Moncrieffe today. I’ve no doubt you’re glad to hear it.”
