Her skin wassoft and delicate against his callused palms. When she inhaled sharply, his body responded in ways inappropriate for a riding lesson.
“There,”he said, his voice low. “Feel the difference?”
She nodded,not meeting his eyes. The pulse at her throat fluttered visibly, drawing his attention to the delicate curve of her neck. He imagined pressing his lips to that pulse point, feeling it quicken beneath his mouth.
“Shoulders aligned with yer hips,”he continued, stepping back.
Gabriella attemptedto follow his instructions, but her posture remained tense, her back too rigid. Hector moved beside the horse, placing his hands on her waist.
“Relax here,”he urged, steadying her as Moira shifted. His fingers splayed wider than intended, nearly spanning her middle. His thumbs rested at the base of her spine, where he could feel her heat through the fabric. “Move with the horse, nae against her.”
His body was respondingto her nearness with a hunger that threatened to shatter his composure. He could smell thelavender in her hair, could feel the warmth radiating from her body.
His hands seemedto act of their own accord as his thumbs traced small circles on her waist. For a moment, his thumb brushed the curve where her waist met her ribs, deliberately this time, and he heard her breath catch.
“Like this?”she gasped, her voice husky in a way that sent blood rushing south.
Hector swallowed hard,fighting the urge to pull her down from the mare and press her against him, to let her feel exactly what she was doing to him.
“Aye,”he managed, stepping away before he could do something they’d both regret. “Much better.”
After several more adjustments—eachrequiring physical contact that tested his resolve—Hector deemed her ready to try walking the horse. He took Moira’s reins and began leading them around the yard in slow circles.
“Ye’re a natural,”he offered as Gabriella’s posture gradually relaxed. The praise brought color to her cheeks.
“It feels… freein’,”she admitted. “Almost like flyin’.”
“Wait until ye’re gallopin’across open fields,” Hector said, allowing himself a rare smile. “Nothin’ like it in the world.”
Once she seemedcomfortable with the horse’s motion, Hector guided them through the castle gates and onto the path that led toward the loch.
“Do all lairds give ridin’lessons, or is it just ye?” Gabriella smiled, giving him a quick glance. She adjusted her grip on the reins as Moira responded to a gentle tug.
“Most wouldnae bother,”Hector replied, watching her hands with approval. “They’d leave it to the stable masters or the servants.”
“Then why did ye?”
Hector considered her question.“Some things are worth doing by yerself.”
The morning sunhad burned away the mist, revealing rolling hills carpeted in heather and gorse. In the distance, the mountains rose blue-gray against the horizon.
Gabriella stared in wonder,momentarily forgetting her wariness. “Beautiful,” she murmured.
“Aye,”Hector replied, his deep voice breaking into her thoughts.
They were silent for a moment,then he turned and caught her watching him rather than the view. Gabriella turned away, heat rushing to her cheeks.
“I meant the land,”she clarified hastily, though she wasn’t entirely sure she had.
The cornersof his mouth twitched, but he only nodded, returning his gaze to the horizon. “McCulloch territory stretches from the loch to the eastern ridge.”
He continued leading the horse,gradually extending the reins to give Gabriella more control. She adapted quickly, her initial fear giving way to cautious enjoyment.
“I thinkye’re ready to try on yer own,” he said, stopping at a flat stretch of ground. “Just a gentle walk at first.”
Gabriella’s eyes widened.“Are ye certain?”
“I’ll be right beside ye,”he assured her. “Just kick her flanks gently with yer heels to start, and pull the reins slightly to stop.”
