Page 25 of The Laird's Masked Passion

She folded her hands very tightly in her lap.

“I hope the water is freezing,” she called out.

“It is.”

“Good.”

“It improves the blood.”

“I am delighted yer blood is receiving such advantage. Perhaps it will carry sense tae yer head.”

He laughed, openly and loud enough that the sound came across the water and settled, most unwelcome, in her stomach. Elspeth refused to smile.

A bird moved in the reeds. The horse lowered its head to graze. The world, traitor that it was, continued as if nothing improper were happening. She dared another look, meaning only to see whether he had finished.

He had not.

Colin was farther out now, cutting through the shining surface with long, easy movements. His dark head broke the silver water and droplets flashed around him like scattered glass. He seemed part of the place in a way she could never be: made for cold water, hard land, and danger beneath open sky.

Elspeth’s throat went dry. It was not admiration, she told herself. It was shock, a perfectly natural female shock at unexpected nakedness. Any woman might stare, in the same manner one stared at a lightning strike, a house fire, or a pig entering a ballroom.

Colin turned in the water. His eyes found her. Even from that distance she knew he had caught her looking. Elspeth immediately examined the reins.

“I was checking that ye hadnae drowned,” she explained hastily.

“Kind of ye.”

“It wasne kindness. Drowning would delay us.”

He floated for a moment, unbothered, the sun turning the water around him bright enough that she could pretend it hid what she had no intention of seeing. “Ye may swim, too, if ye like.”

The suggestion was so outrageous that she forgot to be flustered.

“I beg yer pardon?”

“The water is clean.”

“So is me dignity, despite yer repeated attempts upon it.”

“Suit yerself.”

“I always endeavor tae.”

He disappeared beneath the surface. Elspeth lurched forward before she could stop herself. Then he rose again several yards away, pushing wet hair back from his face. He looked younger for one dangerous instant, less severe, less like the man who had bought her, and more like a man who could laugh and breathe and feel cold water upon his skin without being made of stone.

The thought unsettled her more than his nakedness, because a monster, properly understood, could be hated cleanly. Seeing him as a man was far less convenient. She sat back, angry at herself, angry at him, angry at the sunlight for touching him with such generosity and angry at the loch for receiving him as if it had any right.

At last, Colin swam back toward the shore.

Elspeth turned away before he could rise from the water. “I shall face the trees until ye are decent.”

“I wouldnae hurry on me account.”

“I assure ye, naething in this world would persuade me nae tae hurry so I could seethatsight.”

There was a pause.

Then, from behind her, his voice came lower and nearer than before. “Ye already did.”