Page 114 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

"I'm swimming!" She laughed suddenly, the sound bright and free and utterly joyful. "David, I'm actually⁠—"

Her foot slipped on a submerged rock. She went under for just a moment before David pulled her up, both of them laughing and coughing and spitting out water.

"Ye alright?"

"Yes. That was—" She was still laughing, her wet hair plastered to her face. "That was terrifying and wonderful at the same time."

"Aye. That's usually how the best things are."

They were very close now, David's hands still on her waist to steady her. Her shift was plastered to her body, transparent in the water.

And suddenly the cold didn't matter anymore. Suddenly all David could think about was how beautiful she was, with water droplets on her eyelashes and her cheeks flushed from cold and laughter.

"Elinor," he said, his voice gone rough.

"Yes?"

"Dae ye have any more favors tae ask?"

She went still in his arms, her eyes searching his face. "Why?"

"Because if ye dinnae—" His hand moved up her side slowly, deliberately, feeling her shiver that had nothing to do with cold. "I'm goin' tae start touchin' ye. And I'm nae goin' tae stop unless ye tell me tae."

"I used all my favors." Her voice was breathless.

"I ken. So—" His thumb brushed the underside of her breast through the wet fabric, and he felt her breath hitch. "Dae ye have a favor tae ask if I touch ye here?"

"No." The word came out shaky.

"What about here?" His other hand moved lower, tracing the curve of her hip, her thigh.

"David…"

"Or here?" He pulled her closer, his hand splaying across the small of her back, bringing her body flush against his.

"We're in a loch." But her voice was breathless, wanting, her body melting into his.

"Aye. We are." He kissed her neck, feeling her pulse jump wildly beneath his lips. "Daes that bother ye?"

"It should."

"But daes it?"

"No." Her hands moved to his shoulders, gripping tight, her nails digging in slightly. "But we should go. Someone might see us."

"Nay one comes here. It's too far from the castle." He kissed along her jaw, savoring the way she melted against him despite the cold water. "It's just us, lass. Just us and the water and the sky and naethin' else matters."

He stopped, pulling back just enough to look at her. Making sure she was with him. Making sure this was what she wanted and not just something she was agreeing to because he was pushing.

"Say yes," he murmured. "Or tell me tae stop. But dinnae leave me in doubt about what ye want."

"Yes." Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with desire. "Yes to everything. Yes to you."

David kissed her then, deep and thorough and claiming. His hands explored her body through the wet shift, learning the curves and valleys all over again.

Finding the places that made her gasp. The touches that made her cling to him and moan into his mouth.

The water lapped around them, cold but somehow not cold enough to dampen the heat building between them.

"We should—" She pulled back, breathing hard. "We should get out of the water."

"Aye." His voice was rough as gravel. "We probably should."

They stumbled to shore, both shivering from cold and anticipation mixed together. David found their discarded clothes, using his shirt to dry Elinor off as best he could. But his hands kept straying, kept touching, kept exploring.

"We're going to freeze," she said, but she was laughing, her hands on his chest, tracing the lines of muscle.

"Nae if we move fast enough." He pulled her close, sharing body heat. "Come on. Back to the castle. Before we both catch our death out here."

They dressed quickly, their movements clumsy with cold and desire.

The ride to Keppoch was torture—every brush of their legs, every heated look exchanged making the tension between them wind tighter and tighter.