Page 23 of An Allusive Love
“I accept yer apology. Next time, listen to an adult’s warning.” Brigid ruffled his hair. “The water did feel fine on such a hot day.”
He looked up with a grin, his tongue showing through a missing front tooth. “Happy to oblige.”
The two MacDougals climbed in their wagon, and Brodie moved beside Kirstine as they waved goodbye. She tried not to look at the bare chest next to her, but her eyes didn’t obey. He’d tossed a towel over his shoulder, evidently to dry himself off. Her gaze tracked a drop of water making its way down the center of his stomach. Her finger itched to stop it, taste the salt from his skin.
Ye’re a wanton woman, Kirstine MacDunn, she scolded herself.
“What have ye been up to, my bonny Kirsty?” asked Brodie in a husky voice.
His breath was hot against her skin, and the flush on her cheeks had nothing to do with the sun.
“I’m on an errand for more beeswax. On the way home, I thought I’d stop and see yer progress.” She sucked in a breath, his fragrant mix of pine and sweat, a heady combination. “Almost finished, then?”
He nodded, his hand resting on her lower back as he steered her back toward the cottage. “Are ye out of candles?”
She paused at the question, then laughed. “No, we use the wax to make ointments. Summer is my busiest season, as it is for all healers. Many of the plant parts we need for the tinctures and infusions are gathered ahead of time for winter.”
“Yer busy season? But yer mother is the healer, ye just help—”
Kirstine stopped and planted her fists on her hips. Where had he been all these years? “Do ye pay attention to anything that doesna concern ye in particular? What have I been doing with my mother all these years?”
“Assisting?” His blue eyes sparkled as he took in her stance, a smile creeping around the edges of his mouth. He ducked when she took a flimsy swipe at him.
“Numpty-headed mon,” she mumbled, walking away from him. Over her shoulder, she yelled, “I’ve been learning. I will be a second healer for the clananda midwife. I’ve helped with two births in the past year.”
“Ye’re lovely when ye’re angry. Did ye ken that?” he called after her.
Bare chest or no, the man was still infuriating.
“Don’t pay him any mind, lass,” said Glynnis. “My son can still be a wee self-centered, but ye’ll shape him into a good mon, eventually.”
“Ye have too much in faith in me.”
“I have faith in love. He loves ye.” Glynnis smiled. “And a mon will do anything within reason for the woman he loves.”
Heat spread up Kirstine’s neck at the words. “Do ye think—”
“No talking behind my back unless I can hear what’s said,” interrupted Brodie as he approached.
“Turn yer back, and I promise we’ll talk louder,” quipped his mother.
He snorted. “Grandda taught me better than to turn my back on a wily adversary.”
Both women beamed.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Glynnis retorted. “Now go and walk yer pretty lass home. Ian will drive me in the wagon.”
“Aye, we’re done for the day. I canna help trim the roof edge without the proper tools.” Brodie held out his hand, and she took it, twining her fingers with his.
Thesnipof the thatcher’s shears faded as they made their back through the woods and toward Kirstine’s home. Once in the shadows, his arm looped around her back and pulled her close. His lips grazed her neck, then captured her mouth, his tongue velvet against hers. Her palms lay flat on his chest. Hisbarechest. She moaned as her stomach tumbled and her fingertips kneaded Brodie’s solid muscle. How could his skin feel so supple yet so hard at the same time? She ran her nails against the springy dark curls that tapered down his stomach.
“That was better than the cold meat pie Ma brought us.” He rested his forehead on hers, his hands stroking her back lightly. Pleasure rippled through her. “And I was hungry, so ye must be verra tasty.”
Kirstine giggled, stood on her tiptoes, and bit his lower lip. “No dallying this afternoon. I have too much to do at home.” She pushed away from him and resumed walking, swinging her sack of beeswax.
Brodie untied the shirt from his waist and pulled it over his head. “I suppose I should look presentable in front of yer mother.”
She bent her head but peeked at him through her lashes as he covered the smooth tanned skin. He was a beautiful specimen of a man.
