Page 26 of The Laird's Masked Desire
Domhnall watched her from the edge of his vision as she finished tying the belt ofhistrousers. Even when wearing a man’s clothes, her femininity shone through the fabric, demanding attention that no amount of oversized garments could deny.
When she handed him her sodden gown and cloak, bundled together and dripping, their fingers brushed. She did not pull away at once. Neither did he.
“For the servants,” she said.
He nodded and passed the bundle to a nearby servant. “Dry them. We move as soon as we can.”
Orders rippled outward. Men remounted and packs were secured. The brief stillness by the river was now dissolving into practiced motion. The delay had cost them time they could not spare.
Domhnall turned back to Margaret just as Cameron spoke low at his shoulder.
“Her horse willnae hold the road. Stone struck the fetlock clean.”
Domhnall’s jaw tightened. He looked to where the injured animal stood, favoring its leg while keeping its head low. Then, he looked back at her.
“Ye’ll ride with me,” he said.
Her eyes widened at the suggestion.
“I willnae,” she said at once, looking outraged.
He lifted a brow. “Dinnae be unreasonable, yer horse is injured.”
“I can see that perfectly well,” she replied. “It daes nae follow that I must remedy it by creating an entirely new scandal which I shall add to the list of already existing ones.”
Domhnall almost chuckled, but he kept his composure. Cameron looked between them, and then very deliberately took a step back.
Domhnall folded his arms. “Ye dinnae want the litter, and I am nae carrying ye around like a sack of grain.”
Her chin lifted furiously, and her lips pouted. “I never suggested ye should.”
“Then what exactly, dae ye suggest?” he asked, trying to stay focused on the fact that he was supposed to be annoyed at her, not attractedtoher.
She gestured vaguely toward the escort. “One of yer men could ride behind me, on his horse.”
“Nay.”
Her eyes flashed. “Why nae?”
“Me men are nae accustomed tae following ladies. Nor dae I trust them tae dae so without distraction.”
“I am nae a distraction,” she snapped.
His mouth curved, suppressing a grin. “That is where ye are gravely mistaken.”
She walked right up to him, and he couldn’t help but notice how the hem of his borrowed garments brushed her ankles, far too long and unmistakablyhis.
“This… is improper.”
All he could do was agree. “Aye.”
“Indecent.” She crossed her arms.
“Likely.”
“And entirely unnecessary.”
He looked at her eyes, fighting the urge to look at her lips. “Margaret, the road ahead narrows. If we delay further, night will take us before we clear the forest. And ye ken that puts us all in danger.”
