Page 73 of The Laird's Masked Desire
Because the truth was simple. The real danger was not the bed.
It was the very determined woman trying, with increasingly poor success, to stay as far away from him as possible.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Morning mist clung to the stone walls of the courtyard, drifting down from the hills like pale smoke. The castle was awake, but the far end of the yard belonged almost entirely to the four men gathered there.
Domhnall leaned back against the low stone bench, with his arms folded across his chest as he watched the fight unfold before him.
“Too slow, Colin,” he called calmly.
Colin did not bother looking at him. He was in the middle of circling Ruaridh with two wooden practice swords. He moved like a shadow that was precise and quiet. Ruaridh, by contrast, fought like a storm. The Wolf of the Western Isles lunged forward with a grin that promised violence and delight in equal measure.
Their blades cracked together.
“Careful,” Niall drawled from beside Domhnall. “If ye break Colin’s nose, he will spend the next year planning revenge.”
“I already am,” Colin replied without missing a strike.
Ruaridh barked a laugh. “Aye, but ye’ve been planning revenge since we were sixteen.”
“That is justified.”
“Ye lost that fight fair and square.”
“I slipped.”
“Ye tripped over yer own foot.” The comment made all four men laugh.
Steel cracked again. Domhnall watched the exchange with quiet satisfaction. It had been years since all four of them had stood together like this, unburdened by council disputes or clan politics.
Men feared these lairds. Men whispered their names across the Highlands like warnings. But moments like this belonged only to them.
Niall stretched his long legs before him, looking far more like a court gentleman than a Highland warlord.
His voice carried lazy amusement. “Five coins says Ruaridh ends it with brute force.”
“Three says Colin trips him,” Domhnall replied with a smirk.
Niall turned his head slightly. “Ye are betting against the man who commands fleets.”
“I am betting against the man who believes subtlety is a virtue.”
Ruaridh swung hard at Colin and shouted across the courtyard. “I heard that!”
“Ye were meant to,” Domhnall answered loud enough for him to hear.
Ruaridh lunged again. Colin stepped aside at the last moment. Ruaridh’s momentum carried him forward two steps before he regained balance.
Niall chuckled. “There it is.”
“Nae yet,” Domhnall murmured.
The two fighters circled again. Colin tilted his head slightly, then he feinted left.
Ruaridh reacted instantly, and in the next breath Colin hooked his foot neatly behind Ruaridh’s ankle. Ruaridh hit the groundwith a thunderous thud. Silence lasted exactly one second, then Domhnall burst into laughter. Niall followed immediately.
“Three coins,” Domhnall said calmly.
