Goodness, the man reallyisfit, is he not? And one big ball of confused emotions on top of it all.
He was going to be fun to tease.
Lyon was breathing hard by the time he was done with his workout with Keith. It likely had to do with the fact the younger man never stopped smiling, which irritated Lyon beyond reason.
Or perhaps the fact Keith seemed to never miss a chance to innocently bring up Bonnie. What did Lyon think she was doing up in the study? Did Lyon think she slept alright last night? Did Lyon know he’d taken her one of Lyon’s old shirts to sleep in?
That sort of thing.
Perhaps it wasn’t so innocent.
So aye, by the end of their sparring, Lyon’s fists throbbed, his jaw ached where Keith had landed a particularly devastating blow, and the other man’s nose was bleeding. They were both breathing hard, and the fire in Lyon’s blood was nowhere close to being cooled.
Every time he thought of Bonnie lying half-nude, coveredonly byhisshirt…well, it raged again. And he didn’tlikethe feeling.
“I’m going to cool down,” he growled, snatching the offered towel from Keith’s hand.
The younger man grinned, of course. “I’ll get cleaned up as well. I’m planning on spending the afternoon practicing my butlering, unless ye’re frustrated enough ye feel the need to beat the shite out of me again?”
A reluctant smile tugged at Lyon’s lips, and he blew out a breath at Keith’s teasing. “It wasnae that bad.”
“Aye, it was. Perhaps I’ll see ifBonniehas any knowledge of medical procedure.”
And just like that, Lyon’s scowl was back.
He was still wearing his boots with his kilt, so he tossed the towel over his shoulder and strode for the steps leading down to the first level and the door leading to the courtyard. Thankfully, some ancestor had replaced the ancient double doors—suitable for welcoming a medieval army—with a more accessible portal, so he was able to slip out without letting in too much snow.
Aye, it was still coming down outside, although perhaps not as hard as it had the previous night. Lyon tilted his head back and took a deep breath, relishing the way the snowflakes melted as soon as they touched him.
Perhaps that fire in his blood was useful after all.
With the towel thrown over his shoulders, he began to trudge through the courtyard. The snow was past his knees, and the exercise reminded him he needed to work his leg muscles as hard as he did his upper body. After thefire, the doctors had informed him he’d lose most of the strength and mobility on his left side, including his left arm and shoulder.
He’d given them a mighty, “Fook ye,” and devoted himself to his exercises.
Keith might think he enjoyed beating the shite out of him, but in reality, Lyon was desperate to keep his body working. It had failed him once already.
His pensive hike took him past the ruined stables, but he didn’t allow himself to linger. He hadn’t allowed himself to linger ever since the fire, and couldn’t do so now. One of these days, he promised himself he’d tear the damn thing down, but not now. Once it was gone, there’d be nothing to remind him of his failure besides the scars.
And he deserved to be reminded as much as possible.
By the time he reached the rear of the castle, he was reconsidering his plan. Normally, after a workout with Keith, he’d go to the loch to wash up. But during winter, when the snow piled up around the keep, throwing himself into a convenient snowbank did the same job just as well.
Now, having dropped backwards into a large pile of snow, he wasn’t steaming anymore, and in fact, the cold was beginning to seep inside him.
He decided it would be best to cut through the kitchens.
But when he pushed open the back door, he was met with an unexpected sight. Instead of the plump and cheerful Mrs. Oliphant, the woman standing at the scarred oak table was none other than the lady who’d haunted his dreams last night.
“What in the hell are ye doing here?”
Bonnie straightened from where she was kneading a pile of bread dough and blew at a piece of hair which had fallen from her simple bun. She smiled, and the sight warmed him more than the heavy iron stove did.
“Why hello, Lyon.” She used the back of her hand to push the errant lock of hair out of her face again. “I was just thinking of you.”
“What—”
Dinnae ask what she was thinking of, ye idiot.
