Page 27 of Sins of the Highlander

“I dinna think ye’ve been over concerned about bathing yourself, from the looks of ye.” Rob thought it wise to refrain from mentioning that his friend smelled a bit like damp wool.

“I had me bath just last month, thank ye kindly, and won’t be due for another again till spring.” Angus slanted him a sour look. “Unless I spend a night like the one ye just had.”

Rob chuckled. A lifelong bachelor, Angus Fletcher kept his home in an order only he understood. In contrast, his boat, an echo of an old Viking longboat, was as spotless as any goodwife kept her hearth, but Angus was indifferent on the matter of personal cleanliness.

At least when the weather turned cold.

“Water is powerful wet stuff,” Angus warned. “Best applied in small doses.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Aye, and while we’re jawing about your mind, I’ve got to wonder if there’s aught in it.”

“What d’ye mean?”

“Stealing away a man’s bride.” Fletcher shook his grizzled head. “Ye told me ye’d be bringing along a Stewart lass, but ye didna tell me she’d be comin’ as your prisoner.”

Rob filched a bite of sausage from the skillet and popped it in his mouth. It was near to scalding, but the thin skin burst in a rush of flavor that set his tongue dancing.

“Does that mean ye willna help me?”

“No fear of that, lad. Angus Fletcher honors his debts. But if ye want my help, it might make things easier all around if ye tell me all.”

“Soon, friend.” Rob laid a hand on Fletcher’s shoulder. “Where is the lass?”

“Upstairs. Tell her the breakfast is ready.”

Rob headed for stairs so steep, going up them was like climbing a ladder. Most folk with such small houses didn’t bother with more than one floor, but Angus always complained his feet got cold if he couldn’t heat the room beneath his bedchamber. The main level of the house boasted a new slate floor. He’d gotten tired of trying to sweep dirt clean, Angus explained. No matter how hard you packed it, there was always more to sweep. But upstairs, he claimed his wood floors always felt warmer under his bare feet.

Rob’s head cleared the ceiling of the main floor, and his eyes adjusted to the dimmer bedchamber. This room was less crowded with things. An oversized string bed, to accommodate his oversized friend, dominated the space. There were a couple trunks and small table that held a ewer and pitcher.

Elspeth was standing with her back to him, next to the table. She poured water from a kettle into the ewer. Steam rose before she added cold water from the pitcher. She dipped a cloth into a basin, unaware that Rob was watching her.

He prayed that happy state would continue.

She was naked as Eve in glory.

Chapter 9

Elspeth gathered up her heavy hair, gave it a twist, and pinned it on the top of her head. A few loose tendrils escaped and curled on her neck.

Rob ached to plant a kiss on the tender skin there. With extreme care, he climbed the last few steps, praying none of them creaked. Then he stepped into his friend’s bedchamber, tilting his head to avoid bashing his crown on the sloped ceiling. Cat footed, he moved farther into the room, where the thatch rushed up into a tall peak. He stood in complete silence, willing Elspeth not to turn around.

Not yet.

He longed to trace the indentation of her spine. Her back was smooth and tapered gently to a narrow waist. Then her hips broadened into a sweet bottom shaped like an inverted heart. He longed to run his hands over that glowing skin and palm the globes of her buttocks.

Her legs weren’t long, for she wasn’t a tall woman, but they were shapely, and her muscles were strong beneath taut skin. He noticed a few scrapes and scratches from her scramble up the tree.

He wanted to kiss each of those small hurts to make them better.

Angus had exaggerated when he offered Elspeth a chance to bathe. He didn’t own a hip bath. To him, a basin and kettle qualified. Rob was grateful. He’d never see this much of her if she was half-submerged in a soapy tub.

She lifted one arm gracefully over her head and washed her underarm. Excess water trailed down the side of her body in soapy runnels to the cloth she’d spread on the floor.

Rob didn’t dare draw breath. His cock tented his kilt in unrelieved lust.

Then her arms began working before her, and he realized she was soaping the front of her body from breasts to groin. She spread her legs shoulder width to wash her sex.