Page 34 of Seduction in a Kilt

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

He found her in her shift, standing with her back to the mirror, craning her neck over her shoulder. He stopped in the doorway, his attention immediately arrested by the sight. While it was in some ways comical, it was also erotic.

The morning light from the windows was shining through the thin material of her shift, showing the outline of her lithe body and pert, rounded breasts. Liam swallowed down his desire and tried not to look.

“What on earth are ye up tae?” he asked her, walking in, taking off his boots and sword belt.

“There’s somethin’ on me back, and I cannae make out what it is,” she replied, still trying to see.

He laughed and padded over to her. “Ye’ll tie yersel’ in knots if ye keep that up. Come here and let me see.”

“All right, thank ye,” she said, turning around. “Can ye see it?”

He put his hands on her shoulders and stared at her lovely white back. “I cannae see anythin’. What did it look like?”

“’Tis black or dark brown, like spot or blemish. I hope ’tis nae a spider,” she

told him with a shiver. “I hate spiders.”

“Well, that’s a shame as I hear they speak highly of ye,” he told her jestingly, transfixed by the fine texture of her skin. In the course of his search he was forced to brush her back lightly with his fingertips. His belly tightened at the incredible softness.

“Where is it?” he asked, unable to see anything fitting her description.

“Down there, nae there, a bit lower down. “ She tried to point with her eyes in the mirror. He looked and put his finger on it. “D’ye mean this?” It was a tiny dark-brown mole, halfway down her back, just to the left of her spine.

“Aye, that’s it,” she said excitedly. “What is it?”

“’Tis a wee mole, that’s all,” he told her.

She drooped with relief. “Ach, thank the Wee Man for that! I thought it was a squashed spider!”

“Hmm, what’s this,” Liam asked curiously, noticing a long thin scar snaking down her side. It disappeared intriguingly around the front. He traced it with his fingertip as far as he could decently dare.

“Och, that tickles,” she said with a small shiver. “I got that while I was sparrin’ with one of me trainers. The tip off his sword went right through me jerkin and left me with that,” she explained.

“’Tis very pretty,” Liam said, noticing another silver scar lower down near her hips. He touched that one too. “’Tis a different shape tae the other one. Let me guess, a dirk.”

“Aye, but that was me own fault. The ground was muddy, and I slipped and fell against another man’s blade by accident. That bled an awful lot.”

“I bet it did,” he breathed, the front of his trews suddenly feeling uncomfortably tight. He fought to bring himself under control but found it impossible to move away, as he knew he ought to. “Battle scars eh?” he added, breathing in her scent. “Ye’re a real warrior, Ivy. Ye carry the badges on yer skin, just as I dae. I’m impressed.”

She turned and gave him a mischievous smile. “I’ve nae fought in any real battles,” she conceded. “Ye have a few more scars on yer back than I dae.” It seemed to Liam that she had completely forgotten she was standing before him in nothing but her shift. He was not going to remind her.

“It disnae matter if ye’ve nae fought in any battles yet. Ye’ve trained. Ye’ve put in the hours. Why, I’d be happy tae fight beside ye right now.”

She gazed up at him, her hands clasped, her face alight with pleasure. “D’ye mean that, Liam?”

“I wouldnae say it if I didnae mean it,” he told her. “Ye should be proud of yersel’.”

Her smooth brow suddenly crinkled in consternation. “Ye dinnae think the same as Carson, d’ye? That just because I want tae be a fighter and dress like a man when I’m trainin’, I’m nae really a proper woman?”

Angered that she should believe such a preposterous thing, he caught her by

her waist and pulled her in to him. “Oooh!” she cried, putting her hands on his shoulders in surprise and staring up at him with her big, dark-blue eyes.

He leaned down and looked into them, his hands relishing the warm curve

of her waist. “Ivy, I can assure ye, just because ye’re a better fighter than many men, it daesnae mean that under yer attire, ye’re nae a real woman.”