Page 57 of A Highland Rogue to Ruin

“If a tree looks at ye untoward, I’ll gouge its eyes out to defend yer honor.”

“Ach!” she scolded and playfully pushed him, but he only chuckled and dodged her.

Her skirt fell.

She stepped out of the garment as he dragged her loose bodice over her head, adding it to the accumulation of clothes, stepped back, unpinned his tartan mantle from the brooch he wore at his shoulder, letting it drop atop her skirts. So forbidden. She clung to her chemise to keep it from fluttering as he unhooked his shoulder sheaths from his back, letting the accoutrement drop, removing blades from his belts, then his boots, then from around his thigh. He sank down on his haunches where he began untying her boot lacings, slipping them off one by one.

He then kicked off his own boots and removed his belt, shucked his trews and tunic, so he stood in nothing but braies that slung low on his hips and ended at the knees. Lacing traveled over that bulge she now knew had the power to make her burn. She twisted the end of a lock of hair, biting her lip, when he scooped her into his arms and splashed into the water.

“Tormund MacLeod!” she shrieked, laughing, gripping him about the neck. “I cannae swim! Remember? Sakes, I—”

His lips touched hers, though he was shaking with silent chuckles. “Ye will by the time I’m done with ye.”

Then he dropped down into the pool.

She shrieked again as water inundated her, a crisp chill surprising her, bubbles gurgling as she scrambled to grip him.

They broke back through the surface, her still in the vise of his arms as she gasped for air, clamoring upon him with arms and legs as her nails no doubt broke his skin.

“Ye’re still laughing!” she admonished, cinching her grip around his neck. “I’ll drown!”

“Nay, lass. I’ll no’ leave ye. Breathe.”

“Tormu—”

“Breathe,” he commanded softly beside her ear. Rubbed her back. She clung to him, appendages still knotted about him and hooked upon his rear. “Next time yer currach capsizes when ye try to sail to France, ye’ll swim like a fish to shore.”

“Ye tease me.”

“Ye said ye’d swim in crystal seas, lass, but first ye need to ken how.” His eyes glittered back at her. The edges were softened in that way she liked, in a way that he seemed to bestow only upon her. Tenderness. “I nay tease. My—” He cleared his throat, the fondness remaining, the eyes darkening. “My mither drowned, when we arrived to Scotland, and I couldna save her. I nay want it happening to ye.”

The air left her lungs. “Torm, I’m so sorry.”

He chewed his cheek but said nothing more. There was much more to this story, but she didn’t want to push him on something painful if it stole his happiness now. It was clear he’d loved his mother. Perhaps had been a maw’s laddie once. A bairn like James had once been…with wee grubby hands.

Water dripped off the talon in his ear. She fondled it, pensive. A rogue, but not really. Now that she’d gleaned beneath his armor, he seemed more like a lad who’d been abandoned to a cruel world without an astrolabe, who’d had to sink or swim.

It was survive or be killed… Everything that makes my life worth it has left its mark upon me… When I was four and ten. Necessity warranted that we either sink or swim.

Was that moment of losing his mother the same moment he’d spoken of before? When he’d been fourteen? And how? Had she fallen overboard? Or worse?

“Ye’re teaching me to swim?”

She pulled back and cupped his cheeks.

“When ye said yer currach capsized, it…” He shook his head and squinted up at the sun. “It bothered me. Hold onto me and grow used to the feeling.”

With him holding her, floating with her, it wasn’t so bad. His skin smelled good and felt even better beneath her fingers. In only her chemise, she might as well be nude, for the heat of his body pressed to hers was comforting and familiar. The crispness of the water felt soothing on her skin. His hands, one bracing her back, the other her rear and thigh, slowly began to settle her.

Then he stood. Rose out of the water so she sagged upon his frame.

“It’s shallow!”

He laughed a full, hearty laugh this time, a rich, wondrous sound she’d never heard from his lips.

“I could have been standing this whole time.” She unfolded her legs from him, letting them drop so that the water rose up to her hips and her chemise floated on the surface, placing her feet upon the porous rock beneath her.

Then she looked at him.