Days of Gold (Edilean 2)

“You didn’t believe her?” Angus asked softly.

“No. I’ve always known she’s a liar. You are the one who believed every word she said.”

“I did not!” When Edilean kept staring at him, he said, “Perhaps I did. She seemed like a sweet girl.”

“She’s a liar and a thief,” Edilean said.

He pushed her head back down to his shoulder. “You’ve made it clear what you think of her, but how did you guess that she was the one who’d taken the jewels?”

“Multiplication.”

“What?”

“I multiplied your male intelligence by the size of her bosom and I never doubted who’d stolen the jewels.”

“My male—?” Angus said, then, careful of her bruises, he lifted her upward. “I shall repay you for that!”

“And how will you punish me?”

“With kisses,” he said, and proceeded to carry out the sentence.

But Edilean drew away and pushed the cover off him. When he started to pull it back, she put her hand over his. She wanted to see him. She wanted to look at the body she’d seen so often but that was always hidden under clothes.

He seemed to understand and he lay back on the pillow, his dark eyes watching her. She put her hand on his shoulder and pulled, wanting him to turn over. She could concentrate better if he wasn’t looking at her.

His back was broad, with deep indentations from muscle under smooth skin that held not an ounce of fat. She ran her hands from his shoulders to his slim waist—and when she felt the ridges, she gasped. The room was dim, so she stretched across him to reach the lamp. As she did so, her breasts rested on the back of his arm.

“Do you mean to torture me?” he asked.

She turned up the lamp, and looked at his bare back. The ridges she’d felt were scars, and there were several large ones. She ran her hand over one that went from under his arm to his spine. “What’s this from?”

“A bullet.”

When she said nothing more, just glared at him, he gave a one-sided grin. “I was sixteen and not so good at concealment and—”

“By ‘concealment’ do you mean sneaking around in the grass and spying on people drawing pictures?”

“Aye, that,” he said. “I followed some rustlers, I got too close, they saw me, and shot me.”

Bending, she kissed the long scar. “Who took care of you?”

“Kenna, my sister.”

When she felt him hesitate, she lifted her head. “You’re thinking of her new baby and wondering what she had, aren’t you?”

“Aye, lass,” he said. “Do you know me so well?”

“More than you think.” When he started to turn over, she pushed him back down and touched another scar, what looked like a burn on the back of his arm.

“Fell into the fire when I was three.”

“And these?” There were four jagged lumps on the right side of his waist.

“Shamus pushed me off a cliff and I landed on rocks.”

“Ah, Shamus. And to think that had circumstances been different, now he would be here with me.”

Angus laughed at that, and she could feel his body move against hers. She pushed the sheet down and ran her hands over the curve of his buttocks, then down to his heavily muscled thighs.