“And I can see yer tarse,” Saidh responded sweetly, and urged her mare out of the clearing as the man glanced down at himself with alarm. She’d been lying of course, his plaid had covered him properly, but his expression when he’d thought his penis was hanging out had been priceless.
A gusty laugh reached her through the trees as he realized her joke. It was followed by the drum of hooves as he set his stallion charging after her. Saidh promptly urged her mare to a gallop. She was determined to get back to the castle before him, but of course, that was impossible. She had a fine mare, but the MacDonnell’s beast was absolutely huge. Its legs outstripped her mare’s by almost double. She suspected her horse would look like a pony next to his stallion. Most horses would, she thought grimly as she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and realized he had not only caught up, but was about to pass her.
Saidh almost tried to gain more speed out of her mare to prevent that, but then eased up on the reins instead. She was not going to win this race anyway and would never abuse an animal in an effort to do so. Instead, she slowed down to a cant and let him charge past. Still, she was surprised when he slowed his own beast and fell back beside her.
“Ye ride well.” He complimented her.
“I do,” she agreed. “I fight well too. Ye’ll be sorry fer yer challenge after we break our fast. I shall trounce ye.”
“I shall look forward to yer trying,” he said with a grin that made him ridiculously attractive.
Saidh scowled at the man, and then turned her face forward, determined to ignore him.
“Do ye like to dance?” he asked suddenly.
“Nay,” she said succinctly, but wondered why he’d ask such a fool question.
“Do ye sing like a canary?”
“A canary with a broken neck,” she responded.
“Can ye sew a stitch?”
“I sewed me brother up once, but then I was the one who cut him while we were practicing so it seemed only fair,” she informed him with a wolfish smile. The truth was she could sew. She didn’t even mind doing it. Sewing was a soothing activity, a good way to pass the time on a cold winter evening when ye were stuck inside with naught to do.
“Can ye . . .”
“Me laird,” Saidh interrupted dryly.
“Aye?”
“I win,” she announced and urged her mare to a gallop to charge over the drawbridge and through the gate into the bailey first. She heard another burst of laughter from behind her as she steered her mare toward the stables, and found herself smiling at the sound. But then was distracted when the stable master approached her as she reached the stables.
The man took the reins and grinned widely at Saidh as she slid from her mount. “Ye go on in and break yer fast, me lady. I’ll take care o’ yer beast.”
Saidh hesitated, but when she glanced around to see Laird MacDonnell riding into the bailey at a canter, she nodded, murmured her thanks and started across the bailey at a quick clip, eager to get inside and seated before he could. She’d only taken half a dozen steps, however, when she was suddenly caught about the waist and hauled up into the air. Saidh squawked in surprise, and glanced around with amazement at the MacDonnell. She hadn’t even been aware that he’d changed direction and come after her.
“Allow me to escort the winner to the castle door,” he said smoothly against her ear as he settled her in his lap.
Saidh wanted to roar at him to put her down, but didn’t want to draw attention in the busy bailey so almost swallowed her tongue in her determination to still it. She sat unmoving and silent, very aware that his arm clasped her just below her breasts, the top of it rubbing against the bottom of those sensitive globes with every shift of the horse’s hooves. She was also excruciatingly aware of the heat of his chest against her back, and that she seemed enveloped in the clean, male scent of him. She was slower to realize though, that the hardness against her bottom appeared to be growing larger and harder by the moment.
“Me laird?” she asked sweetly.
“Aye?” he growled by her ear, his lips brushing the tender skin and sending a shiver up her back that just annoyed her.
“I think ye might be enjoying this just a tad too much,” she informed him. “That, or I’m sitting on yer sword.”
He chuckled, his breath brushing her ear again. “Yer just sore that I made ye turn away and ye didn’t get to see me tarse as I came out o’ the water.”
Saidh flushed as she recalled the way she’d gawked at him earlier, but merely shook her head and snapped, “Ye’d like to think so.”
“Oh, I know so,” he assured her and then reined in and lifted her down off of his horse at the base of the stairs. He also let his hand slide along the underside of her breasts under cover of releasing her, and Saidh gasped at the sensations the action sent racing through her. It left her weak kneed and unsteady so that she stumbled as she started up the stairs. Managing to keep her feet beneath her, Saidh hurried up the steps and escaped into the great hall with relief.
The MacDonnell had an entirely bewildering effect on her. She had liked looking at him as he’d come out of the water, had told him things she’d told no one else, and yet every time he got near, these odd sensations rose up in her, heat racing through her body in a confusing rush that made her want to punch him. Well, okay, maybe she didn’t really want to punch him, but her feelings were definitely aggressive. It was most bewildering.
“Saidh!”
She glanced around the hall, surprised to note that the room was awash with people. Most of them were seated at the trestle tables, breaking their fast, but several servants were bustling about and Murine was on her feet at the high table, waving her over.
“Thank goodness,” Murine said on a sigh, hugging Saidh when she reached her. “I was beginning to worry we’d leave before ye came to break yer fast. I thought ye were still abed,” she added with a frown as she released her.
“Nay, I didn’t sleep well and woke just as the sun broke so decided to go fer a ride,” Saidh admitted as she settled in the empty space next to her friend. Frowning, she asked, “So yer leaving after ye eat?”