Highland Wolf (Highland Brides, #10)(22)

Christ, he’d lost his mind, Conall thought with self-disgust. He knew about the currents here and how dangerous they could be. Yet he’d walked away and left her there in the water on her own when she probably had no idea how dangerous it was to go too far out into the river here.

Conall was running by the time he hurried around the last bend before the spot where he’d left Claray. Spotting her in the water, he slowed and then stopped to simply stare at her. She was kneeling in the river, scrubbing her dress, the water reaching no higher than her waist despite being on her knees.

Sighing his relief, Conall hesitated, unsure what to do. He suspected she’d be uncomfortable if she knew he was there, but he didn’t want to leave her alone. All was fine right now, but that could change quickly and he wanted to be near to hand to help if she needed it. After a moment to debate his options, he moved into the trees before continuing forward until he was apace with her. Stopping there, he leaned against a tree and watched silently as she worked.

Claray appeared to be muttering to herself as she scrubbed and he wondered to himself if she was berating herself for what had happened just as he had been doing before Payton had scared him into coming back. Or perhaps she was silently cursing his behavior, he thought unhappily. Now that her passion had waned, Claray no doubt was seeing how sorely he had treated her. A man didn’t take advantage of an untried lass like that. Not if he had a lick of honor in him. Conall knew that and he was ashamed of himself. But it didn’t stop him from wanting to do it all over again.

Shaking his head, he crossed his arms over his chest and watched as Claray suddenly surged to her feet and carried the dress to shore, wringing it out as she went. Apparently, she was done cleaning it, he decided when she stopped next to a large boulder, finished wringing out the gown and then spread it over the large stone before turning to walk back into the water.

Conall tensed with concern, but she didn’t venture far. Claray was only knee-deep again when she stopped and lowered herself to sit in the water. She then reclined on her elbows until she could dip her head back into the river. Leaning on one elbow, she used her other hand to swish her hair around under the water, removing the mud that had caught in it when she’d fallen in the puddle.

It was about the sexiest thing Conall had ever seen. While her gown had hidden most of her as she’d carried it out of the water, and she’d turned away quickly after laying it over the boulder, there was nothing hiding her assets now. Her shift was as good as useless, the nearly transparent material clinging to her curves as her position thrust her breasts into the air. Her nipples were small pebbles peaking the cloth. They looked to be as hard as they had been when he’d caressed her and now he wondered if it had been him or the cold that had brought on that result earlier.

The snap of a branch drew his head around and he straightened as he spotted Payton approaching through the trees. His cousin was walking in his direction, but his eyes were locked on Claray with an interest and admiration Conall didn’t care for at all.

“She’s a beauty,” Payton said in a hushed tone when he reached him, but still hadn’t torn his eyes away from Claray.

Teeth grinding, Conall stepped between the other man and the river, blocking his view of Claray. Once Payton focused on him, he asked shortly, “Is that for her?”

Payton glanced down at the material he carried as if he’d forgotten he had it, and then nodded slowly. “Aye,” he said, but didn’t sound sure and his voice was a tad gruff. Giving his head a shake, he cleared his throat and then nodded again more firmly and held out the cloth. “Aye. Hamish sent a plaid, a shirt and a length o’ rope fer her to use as a belt, but only a fresh plaid and no shirt fer you. He apologizes for that, but said ’twas the best he could do.”

Conall grunted at the claim, knowing it was true. Hamish always did his best, and truth be told, he was surprised the man had been able to supply the shirt and two plaids. Most men didn’t carry much with them on the trail. A sword, some oats and a sgian dubh was all many bothered with. Hamish was the exception, of course, but even he had his limits. Conall hadn’t expected him to have a dress or anything.

“I guess I’ll head back,” Payton said once Conall had taken the items of cloth.

“Aye,” he said dryly. “Tell the men to get ready to leave. We should no’ be long.”

Payton nodded, and turned to head away but then glanced toward Claray and paused to turn back. “If ye’re no’ going to claim her to wife, ye should break the contract and set her free to find someone who will appreciate her.”

“Someone like you?” Conall suggested, his ire rising at the very thought of Payton or anyone else having the right to touch Claray the way he had.

“Mayhap,” he said, and then turned to peer at her again. “As I told her, I’m no’ betrothed. And it would be no hardship to fill her belly with a bairn or nine . . . Aye, no hardship at all,” he said solemnly as Claray finished with her hair, stood up and turned to walk to shore again, her transparent linen shift clinging to her curves.

Her breasts were full and high, her hips curvy, and the triangle of curly strawberry blond hair at the juncture of her thighs was as visible as her dusky rose nipples.

Conall heard Payton move away, but didn’t take his eyes off Claray. She was a sight to make a man’s mouth water and his cock spring up, ready for action, and he was experiencing both right then. He wanted to taste those dusky nipples rather than just touch them, and he wanted to bury his face between her legs and sample her sweetness.