Page 24 of It’s in his Highland Kiss

That day, though, had been her worst one yet.

She wasn’t concentrating. Her mind kept roaming to other things, other places, and she couldn’t clear it enough to anticipate Eiric’s next move every time that she parried his attacks.

“I’m here,” she said, taking in a decisive breath as she reached for her sword once more.

“I dinna think that ye are,” Eiric pointed out. “I dinna think that ye’re here at all. How about we finish for the day if ye willna concentrate?”

“I’m here,” Marion insisted. She would just have to push everything else aside and focus on nothing but their swords. She didn’t want to stop training, knowing that if she did, she would have too much time on her hands, and she would spend it worrying even more about things that were out of her control.

“If ye say so,” Eiric said, and before he had even finished his sentence, he attacked once more, quick as always with his sword.

Marion parried his attack, twisting to the side as she did and putting some distance between them.

“May I remind you that I’ve only been doing this for six months, when you’ve had your whole life to learn?” Marion said, swinging her sword, but missing when Eiric jumped back to avoid it.

“That has nae a thing to do with it,” Eiric said. “Ye’re worse than ye were last time. Yer mind isna here, it’s somewhere else. Ye’re thinkin’ about somethin’, but ye dinna wish to tell me what.”

Eiric was right, but Marion wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of saying that out loud. Besides, she didn’t want to be thinking about such things; they did nothing but sadden her, and she would much rather avoid her sadness.

With a step to the side, Marion avoided Eiric’s blow, and then answered with one of her own. Eiric parried it, as she had expected, but then she spun around and attacked him again, swinging her sword towards his ribs.

The dull blade connected with Eiric’s body with a thud, and he groaned, whether in surprise or pain, Marion didn’t know. She too was surprised that she had managed to hit him, and for a moment, she froze. Eiric took the chance then, and tackled her to the ground, much to Marion’s dismay.

“I killed you!” she pointed out. “Dead men can’t do that!”

“This one can,” Eiric said, before he rolled off Marion, the two of them lying side by side on the dirt. She looked at Eiric, laughter bubbling up her throat and making her body shake, and he joined her, both of them laughing as they stared at the sky above them.

They were so close that Marion could feel the heat coming off Eiric’s body. She could feel every tiny movement of his muscles as he laughed, every brush of his arm against her own.

It was driving her crazy. Even after spending months in Scotland, she had never seen another man like Eiric, nor had she felt the same way for anyone else. Every time she looked at him, a spark would run up her spine, leaving her breathless and frozen on the spot. She would scramble to find words, her thoughts dying in her throat before she could get them past her lips.

Every glance, every smile that he gave her set her body on fire. She looked at Eiric’s lips, with their perfect Cupid’s bow, and wanted nothing more than to kiss them. She wanted to kiss them, to have them kiss her own lips, her neck, her chest. She wanted to feel those lips all over her body, and she could almost imagine it, the soft brush of them on her heated flesh.

Would he feel familiar after all the time they had spent together? Or would he feel terrifyingly new, a strange thrill that would leave her trembling and shaking, laid bare under his mercy? She didn’t know; all she knew was that she craved something she had never even experienced before, the feel of Eiric inside her, making her his and giving her the pleasure that she yearned for.

Her body, having a mind of its own, moved a little closer to Eiric, seeking him out. She thought about offering herself to him—though she could not possibly tell how she could do such a thing—and seeing where it would take them, if he would accept her proposal, if he would take her hand and drag her to his chambers, eager to kiss her, to caress her, to be inside her.

But no, it was impossible. She could never hope to ask him for such a thing.

Eiric had an effect on her like no one else did, and Marion didn’t know what to do about it. All she knew was that she could never be with Eiric. Surely, a man like him, the son of a laird, would have to be with a woman of noble blood, and though technically Marion was a noble girl, she didn’t consider herself one.

“I suppose ye’re here noo,” Eiric said. “Good job, Marion.”

He stood and offered a hand to her once more, which Marion took, and allowed him to help her up. She wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand, a smile spreading over her lips.

“I told you,” she said. “Maybe I’ll become even better than you in the end.”

Eiric frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ach, lass, dinna get ahead of yerself,” he said. “There is nay warrior better than me.”

Just as he spoke, a bannock hit the back of Eiric’s head, and Marion turned to see Edan there, an unimpressed look on his face.

“Keep tellin’ yerself that,” Edan said, as he approached the two of them. “If it helps ye sleep better at night.”

“Ach, Edan, why do I even still talk to ye?” Eiric asked with a huff, though Marion could see that slight smile on his lips, the one that told her he was glad to see Edan. He had been gone for a few weeks, and even Marion had to admit that she had missed him and his crude stories.

She was beginning to warm up to him.

“How was England?” Marion asked. She usually refrained from asking about the place that used to be her home, but now that Edan was right there, only moments after returning from England, she couldn’t help but ask, her curiosity getting the better of her.