Don't Give A Damn About My Plaid Reputation (Bad in Plaid 4)

She wasn’t entirely comfortable in the water, aye, but ‘twas more than that; the memory of Kester’s words did all sorts of funny things to her insides.

He loves me. He said it himself.

The thought should make her sad, remind her of the fact a future together would never happen. Instead, though, she focused on the assurance that what she was doing was right.

Here and now.

They had here and now to be together.

And judging from the splashes she heard behind her, Kester agreed.

Or he was worried about her drowning.

Either way.

Smiling, she turned toward the shore.

For certes, there was her love, scowling as he splashed toward her. The water had just closed around his hips, but that delightful V leading from his abdomen—pointing downward as if to say Here is the cock! ‘Tis right here!—was visible for a few more steps.

“What are ye staring at?” he barked as he reached her, and they stood awkwardly a few paces apart.

She couldn’t afford to be coy. “Ye,” she said bluntly. “Ye’re a handsome man, Kester MacBain. I’ve enjoyed riding with ye these last few days, especially since so many of ye seem content to remove yer shirts in the hottest part of the day.”

The teasing didn’t work, judging from the way his countenance darkened. “And ye were looking at all of us?”

“Och, jealousy isnae fair.” He was the one on the way to marry another woman. “I only have eyes for ye.”

Suiting deeds to words, she allowed her gaze to travel across his shoulders and chest, most of which was still above the water. “And I like what I see. Verra much. Just a pity the water covers the interesting bits.”

Instinctively, he glanced down at himself. “What bits?” And then he rolled his eyes, as if he’d figured out what bits she meant.

“Yer arse dimples.”

His gaze snapped back to hers, his brows still drawn in. “What?”

He was fun to tease. Robena shifted one foot cautiously along the rocky bottom of the loch, trying to move closer.

“Ye have dimples right above yer buttocks.” Since he was still frowning in confusion, she reached for him. “Here.” Her hands settled on his hips, then snaked around the back so her fingers rested right below his kidneys. “And here. ‘Tis completely normal. A sign of a trim backside.”

“I dinnae have arse dimples.”

She grinned. “Ye do. Why do ye think I’ve been staring at yer arse for so long?”

His expression slowly cleared into suspicion. “Is that why ye keep turning on yer horse to stare at me?”

Although ‘twas disappointing to release her hold on him, Robena felt in danger of drowning unless she reached higher.

“I cannae see yer arse from that angle. I just like looking at ye.”

‘Twas a long moment of his gaze flicking from one eye to the other and back, as if looking for the lie, before one corner of his lips finally twitched. “I doubt there’s much to look at right now. I dinnae think the cold water’s helping. No’ with ye looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Goodness, she wasn’t at all cold right now.

“Like….” His voice dropped low, as did his eyes. “Like ye need me.”

“I do,” she whispered, instinctively arching her back so her breasts—which is of course what he was looking at—lifted enough from the water for her nipples to caress the surface.

He made a reverent sound and Robena was quite interested in learning more about that…except the movement had thrown her off-balance.