Page 16 of A Heart Worth Loving

The smile that played over his lips pulled her own into an answering curve. “I can show you.”

***

The way her breasts heaved under her dress made him want to rip the damn thing off and throw her onto a bed. His cock twitched in agreement. Something about the lass enchanted him, made him feel as he had before the war. Perhaps it was her spirit, her warmth, that soothed the pit of despair that kept him company of late.

She smiled, and he couldn’t stop his own lips from widening in response. God, he was grinning like a fool. A breeze blew a strand of her hair to her lips. How he ached to taste that sweet mouth again and trace his fingers over the soft lines of her flesh.

“This way.” She brushed back the hair from her mouth and moistening her lips with her tongue.

He nearly groaned aloud. That tongue. Heaven save his soul, but how was a man not to think of what that tongue could do?

She left the path and took off toward the stone fence ringing the abbey’s lower pasture. He followed, allowing his eyes to slide over her womanly curves. She was such a bonny lass, so vibrant, so filled with life. If only she could remain a ghost. In the heat of the night, he could slake his need. He could drive his cock into her sweet depths and stretch and fill her until she writhed with pleasure.

The hardening of his cock reminded him firmly to nip such thoughts in the bud. When they reached the fence, she didn’t hesitate to climb over—just as she had the window sill yesterday morning—blissfully unaware she’d just offered him a fine view of her slim ankles, and his body revolted against reason. Ewan gave in and vaulted over, enjoying the pleasant hum in his blood.

“How do you know so much about Widow Feldman’s sheep?” he asked.

Kyla laughed. “I often helped her fetch them home.”

He couldn’t resist the chance to tease. “With the help of your sheep dog?”

She snapped her head up and met his gaze. The blush that colored her cheeks made him want to kiss her.

They kept walking.

“Why were you there in the refectory last night?” he asked. “Are those keys important?”

She nodded. “Aye. I was looking for them.”

He stopped under a large oak. “I thought you were a ghost.”

The minx looked at him from beneath her lashes. “Are you in the habit of kissing ghosts?”

He yearned to do more than kiss her lips. He let his eyes drop over her shapely figure. The color in her cheeks deepened. God, he did want to kiss her again. She didn’t move away. He bent his head closer to hers. He knew what desire in a woman looked like. Her eyes sparked with, and her breasts rose and fell. He was sorely tempted to cup those soft mounds of flesh.

“The sheep.” She took a step back. “The pond is just over this hillock.”

She was off again. He suppressed a groan and followed.

They crested the rise. Sheep grazed around a small pond that glistened in the afternoon sun. A quick count revealed the entire flock, plus one more. One of the ewes had apparently birthed a lamb.

“Thank you,” he said.

“We can drive them back,” she offered.

He couldn’t resist. “Without the aid of a sheep dog?”

He loved watching her blush.

“Have you never heard of a shepherd’s crook?” she asked.

Minutes later, Ewan watched her struggle to break a branch from the alder tree. He should help, but the sight of her luscious form twisting this way and that compelled him to feign ignorance on just how a proper shepherd’s crook might be obtained. All too soon, the branch cracked. She broke off the smaller limbs and leaves, until she held a passable staff.

“There, that’s done.” She gave a nod of satisfaction. “Now, select yours. The longer, the better.”

He suppressed a grin. “And wider, too?”

She nodded, clearly oblivious to his suggestion.