“Good. I waited until the temperature rose before I came to fetch ye.”
She looked up at him. He was watching her feet, standing so near. Then his eyes lifted hers, his lashes heavy.
Embarrassed to have been caught staring, she put distance between them and stared at the offing where the earth seemed to descend.
“It’s getting warmer now.” Her throat was dry.
“Let’s move further.” He drew her closer. They were knee deep when he said, “Be careful, there’s a drop here.”
But she didn’t hear him quickly enough. She lost her footing with a high-pitched scream. Her knees buckled, and she was about to land on her face when he pulled her against his side and righted her.
“I warned ye.”
She was in shock from the thrill of it. Then she realized that her feet were off the ground, and that she was… well, floating.
“I think I am floating,” she said with a huge grin.
“Ye should be, ye’re as light as a tin can.”
“Let me go, I think I can do this without you.” She tried to pull away, but his grip did not loosen.
“Nae in waters this shallow.”
She was not going to listen, and… well, he could only take so many tantrums. When he placed her on her feet, she should have understood then the physics behind buoyancy, but excitement got the better of her.
He took a step back and watched as she sank down, expecting the sea to cradle her. Only to find she was not floating, but sitting on the hard bottom, wet all the way to her chest, embarrassed all the way to her temples. She blamed not being able to look up at him on the sun peeking over his hair.
“I think we should go deep?—”
“I think so too.”
When the water reached her waist, her legs left the ground, and she quickly discovered many things: she could sink as easily as she could float, she was a calm pupil in a classroom and only there, and Ruaridh was ahorribleteacher.
“Me Laird!”
The shout dragged their gazes to the shore, where a man dressed in McLeod colors stood watching them. She wiped at her eyes and saw it was Logan. She lifted her hands to wave, but frowned when the Laird stepped in front of her, blocking him from view.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “Isn’t that Logan?”
“Stay here,” he commanded, getting out of the water.
8
Out of the corner of his eye, Ruaridh noticed Violet’s raised eyebrow, but he would be damned if he let Logan see her in a state of undress.
The man might be his closest friend and most trusted confidant, but the sight of her barely clad figure was something he would keep from his eyes.
The lass was unlike anything he had expected, and her bonny figure had had him mad with need when she surfaced from the water with her undergarments clinging to her.
He had prided himself on his strong sense of will, but one look at her had had him aching to touch her and pull her against him. The little touches they had shared and that one moment where she had brushed against him were still imprinted on his flesh like a hot brand that even the cool water had been unable to rid him of.
“Why are ye here, Logan?” he asked with more bite than he had intended.
In truth, he was thankful for the man’s timely appearance. If he hadn’t appeared when he had…? Ruaridh knew he had been one more argument away from kissing the infuriating lass.
“I bring news from our man in London,” Logan answered with a wide grin and a knowing look in his eyes.
Ruaridh sighed, knowing he would get an earful of naughty comments later, but Logan at least had the common sense to wait until they were alone.
