Free Taming the Scotsman by Kinley MacGregor Page B

his own desires be damned.
     
    Nora spent the rest of the morning avoiding Ewan. Something that proved extremely difficult once they left the brewer’s house and were again on their way toward Lochlan’s castle.
    “You are so strangely quiet, lass, that you’ve got me fearing for your health. Are you sure you’re all right?”
    “Quite well,” she hastened to assure him. He’d asked that question entirely too many times.
    The last thing she intended to tell him was that he was what was the matter with her. Who knew that the absence of his beard would make such a significant change to his face?
    He no longer looked quite so off-putting or beastly. There was an elegant grace now to his features. An air of powerful predator.
    Why would any man with a face so breathtaking seek to bury it under hair? Surely there should be a law to prohibit such a crime.
    And those broad shoulders of his…
    They were decadent. Powerful. They rolledwith his movements, making her hot and needful as she imagined brushing her hand over his smooth skin.
    Touching his ebony hair again.
    All day long she’d been trying to banish the images of him that she had in her head.
    The sight of him naked and sprawled in his bed. The sound of his deep laugh.
    The way he’d tasted last night when they kissed.
    And most of all, the sight of him this morning in the stream.
    Aye, but it was hard to focus on anything else while she was plagued by such wanton things.
    At least he hadn’t drunk any ale this morning, nor had he accepted Aenos’s offer to take it with him when they left. It appeared he did intend to remain sober while they were together.
    That was most definitely a good thing.
    They passed the morning quietly until they happened upon a peddler who was coming down the road toward them. The man’s wagon was heaped with cloth, boxes and kegs. A small, muscled brown horse pulled the loaded wagon while the man walked before it, holding on to the horse’s bridle.
    He was a short, pudgy man with kind brown eyes, who smiled and tipped his cap to them.
    Nora’s heart quickened at the sight of his wares.
    “May we stop?” she asked Ewan.
    “Why?”
    “I wish to look. Please?”
    Ewan reluctantly stopped the peddler for her and helped her from her horse. He did his best not to be short with her again, but it wasn’t easy.
    The lady was much a magpie whose head was turned by any item she found passingly attractive or interesting. But at least today she hadn’t made him stop while she dawdled with flowers.
    He expected her to grab one of the costly furs that was draped over the back of the wagon.
    Instead she approached the side where the peddler had four lutes tied.
    She ran her hand over them as if they were the most precious objects on earth.
    A chill stole down his spine as he watched her gentle caress and wondered what her hand would feel like gliding down his spine…
    “Oh, these are beautiful,” she gasped.
    “My lady likes the lute?” the peddler asked.
    “Aye.”
    Ewan scoffed at her enthusiasm, even though her bright face enchanted him. “They are only lutes, Nora. They’re not even particularly good ones.”
    She scowled at him. “What do you know of them?”
    Her face softened as she looked back at the cheap willowwood lutes. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?” she asked the peddler.
    Ewan shook his head at her as she plucked one of the strings.
    The peddler pulled one of the lutes from thewagon and handed it to her. “Would you like to hold it?”
    “Oh aye. Thank you so much.” Nora’s face beamed brightly, much like the sun itself. She was a beguiling creature. Filled with as much merriment as he was with ill humor.
    “Have you played much?” the peddler asked her.
    “Nay. My father said I played like a maid wringing a cat’s neck. So one night after I went to bed, he used my lute for kindling.” Nora cradled the lute in her lap and strummed an ill-fated chord.
    The discordant sound made everyone cringe.
    Her