Thirteen #3
Before common sense could intrude, Constance tore off her clothes to her petticoats. Tossing moccasins and skirts aside, she ran into the loch, moving fast, knowing from experience that the best way to fend off the first icy shock was speed.
It worked. She was three steps in, the water barely up to her knees, and the last thing on her mind was Gordon Lachlan. One quick dip under and she’d be so frozen she wouldn’t be able to think of anything but a warm fire.
She turned to rush back to shore when, belatedly, she realized she wasn’t alone.
A tall shadow of a man stood some ten feet away from her.
She ducked down in the water for cover, even as he made a sound of surprise. It was Gordon.
He had no trouble recognizing her, either. “Constance? What you are doing here?”
“Bathing?” she suggested, panic making her stupid. Or perhaps it was the cold. The shivers set in. Dear mercy, the water tightened her skin to numbness. “What are you doing?”
“I’d gone for a walk. I went to the tent, saw you were up, and thought to give you a bit more privacy.”
No amount of cold water could keep the thought from her mind that what he’d actually meant was that he was wasting time until she was asleep again.
“Come here,” he said, sounding worried. “That water is too cold to stand in.”
He was right.
“I’ll c-come in,” she said, even her words starting to shiver. “Y-You g-go.”
“I’ll not leave you alone. Not naked.”
“I n-n-not an n-naked,” she answered nervously. “P-Petticoats.”
“Fine. Come in.” When she still didn’t make a move, he picked up her dress. “Here, I’ll close my eyes. Trust me.”
She decided she would. That was the kind of man he was. Meanwhile, parts of her body were growing numb from the water temperature.
“A-All r-right. C-Close your eyes.”
“They are closed.”
She stood to run the short distance to shore. At first her legs refused to move. The loch bottom was soft and muddy and she no longer had feeling in her toes. But at the same time, her face was burning hot with embarrassment.
Reaching the bank, she snatched her dress from his hands and charged into the deeper shadows of the trees. Standing behind one trunk, she quickly threw on her dress, not bothering to dry herself.
She could hear him move. She glanced around the tree, her body still shaking from cold.
He waited, his body a silhouette against the moonlit water. He’d picked up the tartan and was holding it for her.
Constance drew back to her side of the tree and flipped her wet braid over her shoulder.
Her beloved moccasins were still on the shore, but she wasn’t going to waste time searching for them.
Instead, she would sneak away now and reach the tent before he did.
She longed to be wrapped up in her quilt and feigning sleep.
That way she wouldn’t have to explain why she’d run all but naked into the loch.
Unfortunately, Tad chose that moment to return. He showed up at Constance’s side, and then hearing Gordon, happily bounded over to him.
She was caught.
Drawing a fortifying breath, she came out behind the tree.
“Here, sit down,” Gordon said, not waiting for an answer but gently pushing her to sit on a rock. He threw his tartan over her shoulders and then helped put first one moccasin and then the other on, taking a moment to brush fir needles and dirt from her skin.
His shoulders appeared very broad as he bent before her over the task. He wore his shirt open at the neck. “So,” he said. “Why were you in the loch?”
A thousand plausible stories came to her mind. She surprised herself with the truth. “I’ve missed you. Missed seeing you.” There was no coldness in her body now. She was too aware of him.
He raised his head to meet her gaze, his eyes silver in the moon’s light. “We’ve seen each other.”
“I mean to speak.”
His lips lifted into a smile. “Or to argue.”
“That, too.”
“So because you missed me, you jumped into frigid water?”
What else could she say? Her actions spoke for themselves. Silently, she pleaded with him to understand.
He leaned forward, his brows gathered in concern.
“Constance, I understand. I’ve been taking nightly swims in the loch, too.
I was on my way down here for my own dip, and for the same reason.
I think of you constantly. It seems I must swim for miles before I can lay beside you at night, and even then I receive little rest. I can’t tell you the hours I watch you sleep.
But we shouldn’t tempt fate. You have one path and I have another. I’m trying to do what is honorable—”
She cut him off with a kiss. She just leaned forward and pressed her mouth against his.
For a long second she held it, her blood pounding in her ears.
Gordon had gone still. He didn’t move…and she didn’t know how to take it further. She was foolish and awkward and there was no hope for them.
Feeling defeated, Constance broke the kiss—and at that moment, a hairbreadth from the moment she leaned away, his hands came down on her arms. He pulled her back to him, and this time it was his mouth that came over hers.