Page 126 of The Laird's Masked Passion

“Are ye finding yer pleasure, wife?” he murmured against her ear.

She made an incoherent sound that might have been accusation, agreement, or his name. He kissed her temple.

“That will dae.”

Her eyes opened slowly. She looked dazed, vulnerable, and so beautiful that something painful shifted beneath his ribs. Colin kissed her before tenderness could betray him further. Her arms rose around his neck, drawing him down. She opened beneath his mouth without hesitation, meeting his tongue with an eagerness that nearly undid him.

He kissed her fiercely. She tasted of cold air, desire, and the impossible sweetness of being chosen. Colin settled more fully over her, taking care not to press against the healing woundat her ribs. His body ached for hers, but he forced himself to remain still.

Elspeth felt the effort. Her gaze moved over his face, lingering upon his clenched jaw.

“Ye look as though ye are suffering,” she whispered.

“I am exercising restraint.”

“Is it painful?”

“Presently, aye.”

A wicked spark returned to her eyes. “How unfortunate.”

His mouth almost curved. “Ye will find it less amusing in a moment. Unless ye tell me tae stop.”

Her breath caught. Colin searched her face once more, needing certainty even now.

“I willnae. I want ye.”

The words stripped him of every defense. He lowered his forehead to hers, breathing hard as he positioned himself between her thighs. She remained open beneath him, her trust more intimate than nakedness.

Colin kissed her slowly, but at that very moment, a branch cracked in the trees. Every instinct in him changed as he pulled away from her.

“Hide.”

Elspeth did not argue. That frightened him more than if she had.

She gathered her clothing and moved behind the rocks while Colin seized his sword and pulled on his breeches. Another sound came and a horse emerged from the trees.

The man upon it was one of the four Colin had stationed at the northern passage. Blood covered half his tunic. Colin ran and the guard fell before the horse had fully stopped. Colin caught him, lowering him onto the wet grass.

“What happened?”

“Men,” the guard gasped. “Munro’s. Came from above us.”

“How many?”

“Couldnae count.” His face twisted. “The others are dead, me laird.”

Colin’s blood went cold. “All three?”

“Aye.”

Elspeth appeared fully dressed, though badly fastened, leading both their horses. She did not ask questions. Colin saw fear in her face but also trust.

“Can he ride?” she asked.

“He must.”

Together, they lifted the wounded man onto Colin’s horse and secured him before the saddle. Colin mounted behind him. Elspeth took the grey mare and the other horse.