Page 50 of The Highlander’s Iron Hold

Her eyes traced the line of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his trews, and she felt heat pool low in her belly. Emotions born from their earlier kiss flooded her senses. This was her husband—this magnificent, powerful man who could be so gentle with children, so vulnerable in the darkness of their chamber.

After several minutes, Colin's gaze found her across the yard. Something flickered in his eyes—awareness, memory of the night before—and he straightened. Even from this distance, she could see the way his chest rose and fell with his breathing, could see the slight flush that had nothing to do with exertion spread across his skin.

"That's enough fer now, lads," he called out, never taking his eyes off Morag. "Go get some water and food. We'll continue this afternoon."

The boys groaned in disappointment but obediently gathered their practice weapons and headed toward the castle. As they passed Morag, she heard them chattering excitedly about sword techniques and battle tactics, but her attention remained fixed on Colin as he slowly approached.

He reached for his shirt but didn't put it on, the linen hanging loose in his hand. Morag's eyes followed the movement, drawn to the way his arm muscles flexed, the way drops of sweat traced paths down his chest.

"Did ye come tae watch me make a fool of meself with children's swordplay?" he asked, his voice slightly rougher than usual.

Morag felt heat creep up her neck as she tried to keep her eyes on his face rather than the expanse of his chest, but it was a losing battle. "Ye're good with them. They respect ye."

"They're eager tae learn. Makes it easy." Colin took another step closer, and Morag could smell the clean scent of his sweat mixed with leather and steel, could see the way his pulse beat at the base of his throat. "About last night⁠—"

"Oh, that," Morag said quickly, her cheeks flaming red as images from their kiss flooded again—the feel of his bare chest against her palms, the taste of him, the way his hands had tangled in her hair. "There is naething tae talk about... I mean, it was just... the emotion of the moment and..."

Colin's lips twitched with what might have been amusement. "Just the emotion of the moment?"

"Aye, exactly!" Morag said a bit too loudly, then immediately looked mortified at her own enthusiasm. "People dae all sorts of things when they're... emotional."

"Dae they now?" Colin stepped closer still, close enough that she could see the individual droplets of sweat on his skin, could feel the heat radiating from his body. "And what sorts of things might those be?"

Morag's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, her gaze helplessly drawn to the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. "I... well... ye ken... things."

"Things," Colin repeated solemnly, though there was definitely laughter lurking in his voice now.

"Aye, things!" Morag crossed her arms defensively, which only made her more aware of his state of undress, of how close he was standing. "And so there's naething more tae say...."

"Naething at all?"

"Naething," she said firmly, then immediately contradicted herself. "Except that we shouldnae... nae that I'm thinking about..."

Colin leaned against the fence post, clearly enjoying her flustered state. The movement displayed his body to even better advantage, and Morag found herself staring at the way his muscles shifted beneath his skin.

"What is it ye're nae thinking about, exactly?"

"I have tae go," Morag announced abruptly, spinning around so fast she nearly lost her balance.

"Where?" Colin called after her, straightening with concern.

"I have tae help around!" she called back without turning, her pace quickening as she headed for the castle.

Colin watched her retreat with a mixture of amusement and something much more heated. "Help around where?" he shouted.

But Morag had already disappeared through the castle doors, leaving him standing shirtless in the training yard, grinning despite himself for the first time in days.