Page 10 of Kilty as Sin
Had he seen her smile before? If he had, it was nothing compared to this vision. Her wet hair was curling about her shoulders, which were wrapped inhisplaid, her bare toes sticking out from beneath her linen chemise. She looked both innocent and incredibly wanton.
Christ, he wanted her.
“What is what?” he finally murmured.
“Yer horse’s name.” She was laughing at him.
“Horse,” he blurted. “Ye need to plait yer hair, else it’ll soak through the wool.”
“Ye named yer horseHorse?” Grace lifted her hands to her hair, but in doing so, the plaid fell away from her chest.
Barclay’s gaze dropped. Becauseof courseit did; he was a mere mortal, was he not?
That glimpse of pink nipple through the sheer linen would haunt him to his grave, he was certain.
For fook’s sake, ‘tis no’ as if ye havenae seen hundreds of nipples! Two hundred and thirty-seven, if ye count Three-Tit Margy from Inverness when ye were a lad. What is it aboutthisnipple?
She scrambled to grab the plaid once more, to pull it across her chest. To shield herself from his gaze.
Mayhapthat’swhy he was so enamored with said nipple. It was forbidden?
St. Pancras help him, he was pitiful.
Grateful she couldn’t see his scowl beneath the helm’s faceplate, he shifted around until he was at her back. “Do ye mind if I touch ye, lass?”
After only a moment’s hesitation, she shook her head, and he reached for her hair again.
He hadn’t asked permission before, but now that he’d seen that nipple—now that he was having trouble controlling his body’s response to her—he remembered what she’d just been through and cursed himself.
Again.
As he gathered the silky strands in one callused, coarse palm, he cleared his throat, casting about for a topic. “What would ye have me name him—the horse, I mean. If no’ Horse?”
“I dinnae ken.” Her tone was strained, even as she shrugged. “Lightning. Shadowbane. Stephanie. Milky. Ignatius. Mayo.”
Barclay grunted, dividing her tresses into three strands, then beginning to plait. “He’s a white horse. Shadowbane wouldnae work.”
To his surprise, a sharp bark of laughter burst from her lips. “That’swhat ye took from that list? No’ Ignatius?”
Reluctantly, his lips curled into a smile. Barclay was known as the good-natured one among the Hunters, the one who was always cheerful…and it seemed even the current situation couldn’t suppress his good humor for long.
“Milky would be acceptable, I suppose.” He tried not to stare down at the curve of her neck as he tied off the end of her braid. “Although ‘tis a bit insulting to a warrior’s steed.”
“Really?” She twisted to take the plait from his hand, and peeked up at him, humor dancing in her eyes. “I’m no’ so certain. Ye couldnae see yerself ridingMilkyinto battle against the King’s enemies?”
“’Tis better thanIgnatius.And where do ye get Mayo?”
She shrugged. “Because…Mayo neighs.” She blinked hopefully up at him. “Get it? Like mayonnaise?”
“What?” That made no sense. “Is that French?”
She sighed. “’Tis a brilliant joke and a better name.”
Thank Christ she was no longer cold and afraid. Barclay would do anything to encourage that.
“Let’s askhim, eh? Hey, Horse!”
At his call, the animal looked up from where he was munching grass, ignoring the raindrops which had slowed considerably. “How would ye like to be Milky?”
