Page 31 of Forever My Lass

“I can assure you, it’s a compliment, Madeline.” The surprise in his voice made her grimace. One part of her brain wanted to know what he was saying, while the other half refused to go there. Iain uttered a noise of impatience. “Will ye allow me tae turn around and help ye, or are ye going tae wait until nightfall before you sneak back into the manor with your gown agape?”

“Fine.”

“Ye are as stubborn as Ainslie,” he grumbled with irritation as his hands landed on her shoulders to turn her around.

“Oh, that’s rich, considering the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

She smiled smugly to herself at the low sound of displeasure that echoed out of him. Her self-complacency evaporated the instant his fingers brushed against her back as he began to button up her gown. Madeline went rigid as fire streaked across her skin like a wildfire consuming everything in its path. Heat engulfed her body, and she tried to keep breathing as she trembled slightly.

“Are ye cold?”

“A little,” she lied.

The last thing she intended to do was let him know how a mere touch of his fingers brushing across her skin had ignited an incendiary reaction in her. As he finished doing up the back of her gown, his hands glided across her shoulders. The light caress made Madeline dart away from him to pick up her underwear. Without looking at him, she focused her attention on wringing out the garment.

“Come, I’ll take you home.”

“I can walk just fine.”

“I said, I’ll take ye home, Madeline.”

There was a warning in his words that made her glance over her shoulder. Lips tight with determination, Iain narrowed his gaze at her. His expression dared her to thwart him, and something in his stormy gaze indicated he wouldn’t hesitate to throw her over his horse’s back like a sack of feed if she refused to do as he commanded.

Unwilling to test his resolve, she nodded. Madeline turned her back to him and sank to the ground to pull on her hose and shoes. When she was ready, she scrambled to her feet and with one last twist of her wet underwear, she followed him to his horse. As he swung himself up into the saddle, his dark green and blue plaid kilt with its muted reddish stripes fluttered against well-toned, muscular thighs. The boots he wore rose above his ankles about three inches, while his dark hose covered firm calves and stopped just short of his knees.

The sudden memory of a conversation she’d had with her grandmother several months ago made her bite back a smile. If her grandmother were here, she wouldn’t have hesitated to ask if Scotsmen went commando under their kilts. The horse suddenly shifted its position and sidled toward her in two steps. Startled, Madeline jumped back. A low chuckle whispered through the air, and she jerked her gaze up to Iain.

“There’s nothing tae be afraid of, lass. Taren is simply eager for the oats he knows are waiting for him at home.”

“I’m not afraid, I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to jump up behind you in this dress.”

Madeline glanced down at her gown before she lifted her gaze to eye his horse warily. With a sharp flick of his fingers, Iain gestured for her to step forward. The moment she stepped forward, he leaned down and wrapped his hands around her waist. Startled by his action, she gasped in surprise as he lifted her up and set her on the horse in front of him.

“I dinnae say anything about riding behind me.”

The moment her body was pressed against the man’s chest, Madeline found it difficult to breathe. Forcing herself to draw air into her lungs, she immediately regretted doing so. Horse, leather, pine, and a spicy scent she didn’t recognize flooded her senses. Iain smelled heavenly.

Tension slid through her as Iain made a soft sound and urged the animal into a slow canter. Deliberately keeping her eyes trained on the manor in front of her, Madeline straightened her back and tried to keep from leaning against the man. It was a futile effort. Instead, she sat rigid in front of him, desperately trying to ignore the way her body hummed with awareness. A low chuckle drifted past her ear.

“Taren will nae bolt, lass.”

“What?” She glanced up at him over her shoulder.

“Ye are stiff as a piece of hardwood. Relax, the horse will sense your fear.”

“I am not afraid of the horse.”

“Then what are ye afraid of, Madeline?”

The wicked glint in his eye made her immediately avert her gaze. When she remained silent, he laughed softly, but didn’t press her for an answer. The only sound filling the air for the next several minutes was the jingling of Taren’s tack, the horse’s soft snorts, and the faint sound of the animal’s shoes hitting the ground. After a long moment, Iain cleared his throat.

“Where did ye learn tae swim, Madeline? It is an unusual talent for a woman.” His question made her dart a look at him out of the corner of her eye before focusing again on the house in front of her.

“My father taught me.”

“Father?” The word held a strong note of suspicion, and Madeline nodded.

“Yes, he and my mother died in an accident a month after I turned twelve, and I went to live with my grandmother.” A bittersweet smile curved her mouth. “She’s why I came to Scotland.”