Page 28 of A Highland Rogue to Ruin

She shook her head as they crunched through the brambles. “They think I’m abed.”

“Nay dancing? The night is still young.”

She bit that lip in the way that made him want to pluck it free and for a moment, her smile faltered. “I didna’ think I had a reason to tonight.”

Mayhap he’d have to remedy that, too, for watching her dance was a sport in itself he could fall in love with. But it was growing clear she’d wanted to pass her time with him, and she’d thought he’d left her. Christ, if he had any sense in his head, he would stay gone. After tonight, he would.

“What’s in the sack?”

He arched a brow over his shoulder as darkness enshrouded them. “For ye to find out.”

She scoffed. “That’s nay an answer.”

“It’s the only one ye’re getting, my smart one.”

The boughs overhead creaked as the harvest moon hung low over the treetops between the mountain peaks, rising up to push down the sun that still clung to the western sky, when they came upon Nykr, waiting patiently beside a burn.

At this, she balked, though he gripped Nykr’s feathery mane and swung up bareback, adjusting his grip and shifting to get comfortable.

He reached down to her. “Do ye trust me?”

Chapter Eight

She flashed him an amused smirk. “That depends. Are ye the warlord right now? Because if so, then nay even a wee bit.”

“Or mayhap I’m yer demon?”

She hesitated, smiled carefully, even as a thrill raced over her skin. Her demon? Cautiously, she reached up and took Tormund’s extended arm. “Mayhap.”

He grinned. She loved his smile. It meant something when he deigned to share it. “Good lass. Up ye go.”

Delight shot through her when he leaned down and his broad hand slid down the length of her arm to grip her.

“Hold my shoulders.”

She did as he bade and he hoisted her up behind him, her fingers clenching him as she swung her leg wide. Landing astride behind him, she clung to him, steadying herself. Noticed how his posture went rigid at her grasp and his hand came around his back to hold her waist.

Aye, he seemed skittish when touched. Mayhap he’d never been touched with anything other than a weapon before.

She adjusted her skirts so they didn’t pull beneath her, and straightened her mantle that yanked upon her neck as he shifted his pack to his belly, her thighs flush with the backs of his, his warmth against her breasts and stomach. His rear tucked against her crux. His scent of sagebrush fresh and herbal. Her belly tingled with reminders.

“Ye seated surely?” His words seemed huskier, deeper.

She pressed her cheek to his back, wanting to absorb his rigidity so he would feel relaxed with her, and inhaling his masculine scent. She marveled at how intimate it felt to hear him speak so closely in the silence of the woods. How strange it felt to see their contrasting plaids tucked together when normally they were at odds.

Something as simple as a ride shouldn’t feel so personal. Last night, they’d been masked. Anonymous. The single most daring thing she’d ever done. But tonight, there was no hiding. She was willingly going with her clan’s most hated enemy, and a thrill rippled over her skin that she’d do something so bold.

“Aye.” Her hands slipped around his waist, beneath his slouched doublet, over the planes of his belly ridged with hills and glens of brawn, settling on the buckles of his belts to grip.

His stomach muscles jumped beneath her fingertips. She heard him exhale harder than he should normally. And then his left hand settled over hers, palming them like a shroud. He tapped Nykr with his heels, and they lumbered into a walk, but he never once removed his hand from hers as he reined Nykr by his mane in his other.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“For ye to find out, lass.”

“Ach, for all I ken ye’re about to reave me.”

She felt a silent chuckle shake his stomach as he finally, blessedly relaxed against her belly. “Nay tempt me.”