Page 33 of Wolf Pack

“I have it on good authority the laird is off to swim in the loch yonder—and no one will be there to guard him.” Agnes brushed a dark strand of hair off her cheek, a twinkle in her gray-blue eyes.

Isobel was never embarrassed. Ever. Yet she felt a rush of heat fill her cheeks at once. “He probably doesna need anyone to guard him.” Or he would have already assigned someone the duty.

“If anything untoward happened to him, the pack would suffer a great loss,” Agnes continued, fetching more honeyed mead for Isobel.

Isobel glanced at Dawy to see his take on the situation.

“Aye, ‘tis so.” The dark-haired man winked at her, and she felt the heat in her face renew.

“I can go.” Conall sounded eager to get on the laird’s good side.

“Nay, I will go. You make sure your siblings go to bed and stay in their beds.” Isobel pulled on her brat, grabbed her sword and dagger, secured them, and seized another slice of bread. “Do as they tell you,ja?” she said to Libby and Drummond.

“Ja,” her cousins said.

Then Isobel was out the door, striding toward the loch. She moved through the bracken when she saw Alasdair removing his sword andsgian dubh. Then he removed his belt, his plaid, and his shirt. His buttocks, legs, back, and arms, sculpted and naked, were quite impressive.

He waded into the water and began to swim across the loch. She was hidden in the six-foot-tall bracken, watching the muscular Scot swim and enjoying the view—the sun setting, pink, orange, and yellow skies painting the water and him.

She wondered how often he swam in the loch. It was important not to do something at a regular interval or his enemy could learn of it and be ready for him.

She was still doing her duty, listening to any sound of danger that would alert her that someone intended to attack him, and she would stop the assassin.

All she heard was the sound of insects buzzing and the laird splashing in the water. She thought she would take one after he had finished his swim. She had no intention of him catching her in her mission to guard him. She was still certain if he had wanted a guard, he would have assigned one.

She smiled when he finally finished his long swim and headed for the shore where he’d left his clothes and weapons. But then he looked in her direction and she figured he must have smelled her scent.

Next time, if there was a next time, she would have to ensure she was downwind of him. He began to use a cloth to dry himself, his whole glorious body facing her as if he was showing off to her, which couldn’t help but impress her—when he should have been turned around so he could watch for danger in the woods.

She sighed. The view was too good, and she had to remember to breathe, to listen and watch for signs of difficulty, and not be so caught up in studying the laird, for heaven’s sake.

When he finished belting his plaid and securing his weapons, he headed for the keep which was southwest of her. So had he smelled her, or not?

Even if he knew she’d been out here, he probably had just been amused that she had been watching him swimming in the loch. Once she no longer saw him, she moved closer to the loch and pulled off her brat,léine, her shoes, and then her chemise.

She needed to send Conall out to swim and get clean.

Then she walked into the freshwater, wading deep until she could swim. She dove under, feeling refreshed and glorious. The loch was close enough to the croft and the keep that she could do this every night.

She floated on her back and felt at one with the silky water. She stared up at the sparkling stars in the night sky. She felt as though she could stay like this forever. But then Conall howled from the croft, telling her she needed to retire to bed and get some sleep. She wanted to turn into her wolf and bite him!

When Alasdair had finishedhis swim, feeling invigorated, he had been ready to dress and return to the keep. But then he had smelled Isobel’s delightful scent in the direction of the bracken. Unable to help himself, he’d dressed and watched for any sign of her, but she’d been hidden, and he couldn’t see her in the tall plants.

He thought of walking through the bracken to locate her, but then he assumed she’d only been there to bathe. When she’d seen him in the loch, she had waited until he left.

He had headed back to the keep, but then he had detoured to see what she was up to. When he had seen her strip off her clothes and enter the loch, he’d been intrigued—so much so that he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the sight of her.

Toned muscles, beautiful breasts, long blond hair unbound, and a body that looked to be perfect to share carnal pleasure with and carry a Scotsman’s bairn. His bairn even.

But when she began floating on her back, observing the stars as if she was a water sprite of the loch, he couldn’t move, his groin tightening, and he had the greatest urge to join her.

A wolf inside the croft howled. A young male wolf, probably Conall.

Then she turned as if she’d smelled Alasdair this time—the breeze switching back and forth across the loch, so mayhap she had. She stared at him, looking shocked to see him observing her. He smiled.

He thought of leaving, of giving her some privacy, but wolves shifted naked in front of one another, so it wasn’t that uncommon to see each other in that way. Though they were new to each other, he was more than intrigued.

“If you are there to guard me, you need no’ do so any longer. I’m quite clean now and coming out.”

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