Page 28 of Kilty By Association
“I understand,” she murmured, already backing away. He couldn’t come to her room, of course not.
His hand rose, reaching for her, and she saw the way his kilt tented in the front. “Elspeth.”
But she turned and hurried toward her chambers.
When she reached the large set of rooms given to her—and her maid—she found Brigit waiting with a smile and a rolled piece of parchment.
“What’s that?” Elspeth asked as her maid pulled the pinsfrom her hair and fussed over the orange gown she’d worn to dinner that night.
“Oh that?” When Brigit grinned, ‘twas almost wicked. “I found the map of the secret passages. See?” She rolled it out and anchored it atop the dressing table. “This is yer room. The door is behind the tapestry of the deer hunt.”
Elspeth followed her pointing finger, then bent her head to study the map once more. “And…and Craig’s room?”
There was no judgment from Brigit, and no hesitation either. Her finger stabbed a point on the map. “Ye press the doors to open them, from either side. So ye’d go through the door in this chamber, turn right, then yer second left. His door would be the first on yer right.”
Brigit had known. Just like in Scone, when she’d searched until she’d found Craig, the man who could protect her son, she’d known. She’d already searched out a map and knew the path between Elspeth and Craig.
Right, second left, first door on right. ‘Tis that easy.
Slowly, Elspeth raised her gaze to the door once more, and what it represented.
As if from a distance came her maid’s voice. “So, I suppose, milady, the question is…what doyewant?”
Chapter 6
Craig wasglad he’d taken the time to visit the loch and bathe this afternoon. He’d felt more like himself at dinner…right up until that kiss.
Kissing Elspeth had made him feel…itchy all over.
‘Tis a terrible thing to say.
It was the truth.
Ye’re comparing the woman ye love to a rash?
Nay, he wasn’t, he was just—wait. The woman he loved?
Craig cursed himself as he pulled his shirt over his head. He didn’t love Elspeth, he was just…attractedto her. Lust and love were two different things. Hecouldn’tlove her; she was the mother of an earl, and he was her bodyguard.
But ye can fantasize about her, aye?
It wouldn’t be right. He respected her too much to stroke his cock while thinking of her lips on his skin, or the way she’d feel when he slid into her wetness…
With a groan, Craig dragged his fingers through his hair. Mayhap he needed to visit the loch again.
A glance out the window told him the sun had long since set. He unbuckled his belt and tossed his kilt over the chair. Hecouldn’t go to the loch—heneededto go to sleep. He’d been looking forward to a real bed, and a full night’s sleep since they left Scone.
So why did he still feel so…itchy?
“Fook,” he muttered, then dropped to the floor, arms braced.
After fifty push-ups, his muscles burned, so he pushed for another fifty. The burn was good—right. That was the sort of thing he needed. A reminder of who he was, and what his role was.
Rolling his shoulders, he climbed to his feet once more, finishing his evening ablutions. When he couldn’t avoid it any further, he blew out the candle and climbed into the bed. ‘Twas smaller than he was used to, but would do.
Sighing in pleasure, he stacked his hands behind his head, closed his eyes…
And laid there, wide awake.
