Page 81 of The Scot’s Secret

“Oh!”

He was walking into the water, and Clara had a very clear view of his backside. The man was utterly perfect. His back, his legs and. . . she didn’t want to stop staring at his buttocks.

Oblivious to her gaze, he continued to move into the water until he was waist deep, at which point he promptly disappeared below the surface. A wave crashed, and for a moment panic welled inside her. But Alex re-emerged a moment later, shaking his head and turning toward her with the most devilishly handsome smile she’d ever seen.

And then he began to walk toward her. In a moment he would. . .

She spun around, trying to ignore the laughter that reached her ears. Was he dressing behind her?

“You’re free to look, my shy English maid.”

She didn’t trust him totally, not in this, so she waited just a moment longer. “That’s mostly correct,” she said.

His damp, bare arms wrapped around her from the back.

“You were shy when we first met,” he said, squeezing her gently.

“Not precisely,” she said. “But I did learn that avoiding eye contact kept me out of trouble.”

“Ahh,” he said. “Part of the ruse.” His hand moved to the front of her dress and ran from her waist up toward her breasts. “The Clara who cried out earlier is the real English maid. Is Alfred the demure one?”

“Cried out,” she mocked, attempting to keep a straight face.

He dipped his hand below the ties so it rested just short of the peak she knew was hard once again. “Aye,” he murmured, sweeping her hair to the side and kissing her neck from behind. “Your release,” he clarified. “The result of desire. ’Tis quite an enjoyable state, is it not?”

The feeling between her legs was undeniable even as she tried to humble him. “I think you overestimate your abilities.”

His fingers slipped lower and caressed her nipple as if to prove her wrong. His mouth seared a path toward her ear, his tongue flicking against the skin that felt as if it were on fire.

“I’ve underestimated many things.”

The pressure of his fingers increased as his other hand mimicked the first.

“You, for starters.”

She leaned her head to the side again, wanting him to kiss her neck. The pressure between her legs built even though he wasn’t touching her there. It threatened to overflow.

“But if there’s one area I’m quite confident in. . .”

He moved up against her, the length of his body now fully pressed behind her.

“It’s this one.”

He was relentless.

The triple assault was just too much. The building sensation shattered, and she throbbed all over, crying out unabashedly. His hands stopped their ministrations and spun her around. His kisses only extended the incredible feeling that she didn’t want to end.

Finally, he pulled away, and she was able to catch her breath.

Sort of.

“How did you know—”

He placed a finger on her lips. “You don’t want the answer to that.”

Yet she already had it. Lots and lots of practice. She tried to push the thought aside of the careless, rowdy men at the inn. Thoughts of Alex in such situations were not ones she cared to entertain.

He moved away then to pick up the tunic that lay crumpled on the sand. “Go back, and I’ll follow.” He shook it as bits of sand fell to the ground.