Page 51 of Highlander’s Dangerous Gambler

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It was after midnight when Aileen had left the table. The hours that had passed were a blur in her mind. All she could remember was the talking. But curiously, not a lot of what had been said. After the first few hours, it had blended into one.

Brodie, it seemed, had single-handedly commandeered every battle within a fifty-mile radius and led his clan to victory on at least eight separate occasions.

It was all very impressive, but now, in the light of morning, Aileen was weary. Even Fiona, usually a stalwart of courtesy, had stifled a yawn.

Jumping down from her horse, she trotted White Star along to the livery stables. She had just returned from riding in the orchards on the estate, a favorite of hers and White Star.

Clutching her haversack of apples, it took a moment or two to nuzzle the white gelding's nose away when her eyes alighted on a face.

Giving a little start, Aileen gasped out loud. "Och, so it turns oot never is nae an awful long time after all!"

In front of her was Scott.

Cagily, Scott glanced down a little awkwardly but keen nevertheless. She could tell as much from his eyes.

Scott's light-blue eyes danced all around the Duncan castle stables. It was noontide, and the sun shot in hazily, exposing the dust in its rays. For a moment, the three of them stood there—man, woman, and horse—just gazing at its erratic dance.

"Back so soon?" Aileen said, gazing at him. She had thought he meant it when he had said he would leave her alone. Now her heart fizzled anxiously before him.

"Och," said Scott, standing uneasily from one leg to another. "Well, I mean, I had to come...the laird is still here an'...I didnae mean I wouldnae e'er come to the Duncan estate!"

His words meandered off, but his gaze did not. And Aileen found herself unable to stop staring at them. In her mind, she compared his eyes to Brodie's.

His, too, were light-blue in color, but that was where the similarity ended. Somehow, they could not be more different, with Scott's taking on a shimmering, almost like blue topaz. And when they trained themselves on her, she could be sure he was looking.

Watching his unease, Aileen suppressed a smile. All this time, she had been expecting him to just disappear, and yet here he was again, just days later!

There was a pause for a few moments in which Scott looked away. He pretended to be very concerned about grooming his large stallion, which was harrumphing in a bag of hay. For a few minutes, there was a tussle, with Scott becoming preoccupied with wrestling something away from the tenacious horse.

Whatever it was that was happening, it gave Aileen the perfect chance to gaze surreptitiously at Scott's toned chest. Despite the encroaching cold outside, Scott appeared fevered. Intrigued, Aileen looked more closely. He was hot. Not as in unwell, but sweating, as if he had just run a long way.

Perhaps he had, but the sight of a perspiring Scott poised just inches away had a sudden strange effect. All his heat diffused into the sunlight, and Aileen felt it cloying at her as he stood near.

He must have felt the heat because he had already taken his thick brat off and looked half-minded to remove his leine. She could see that he had rolled the sleeves right up, and it was probably only modesty preventing him from taking the whole thing off.

Scott naked.

The image flashed through her mind, sending her a chill, and when she had seen it, she could not unsee it. The outline of his abs floated all through her, and the bits she could see—the firm, rugged outline of his torso snaking down to his smooth hips filled her with a heat she could not control.

Aileen blushed, her own thoughts causing her cheeks to sizzle and burn. And that was not all. Inside she was heating up. Whatever Scott was doing, it was causing him to lean over and grapple with the horse. This meant the curve of his behind was within very close proximity to her face.

"Och, Dunelm!" chided Scott, locked in a seemingly never-ending battle with the horse. For the first time, Aileen's eyes moved beyond Scott's physique.

Although there was no denying the perfection of the curve that arched around his buttocks, Aileen forced herself to rip her eyes away. There, finally, she saw the source of the tussle.

The black gelding had its face almost irretrievably stuck in a large haversack. Her haversack. In fact, the same bag of apples she had collected and just wrestled off White Star.

Groaning, she rushed to his side. "Och!" she exclaimed in annoyance. The ravenous black stallion was finishing up in the rough haversack. Finally, it pulled its nose out of the hemp bag, but only after making its displeasure wildly known.

"Alright, Dunelm," said Scott, engaged in a fight with the unruly beast. "Ye've made yer point, lad."

With a sheepish gaze, he handed back Aileen the remains of the apples. "Sorry," he said ruefully.

Aileen took the bag, wondering what to do with it. In it were a few measly pips and the remains of some apple cores. Shrugging, she handed it back to Scott. Then she smiled sweetly.

"Seems ye've got some learning to do o' yer own when it comes to controlling a horse!" she scoffed. This was meant to be friendly, and a glint caught her eye.