Free Highland Sparks (Clan Grant #5) by Keira Montclair

but how dearly he wished he could see it to catch her reaction to his comment. She was fun to goad. He was trying his best since he had promised her to behave, but hellfire, she left herself open to teasing. How he loved a lass with spirit, and Gwyneth had plenty.
    She snorted again for effect. He chuckled and nestled into his plaid, tucking Gracie up close to his heat.
    Logan woke up when the guards were switching posts. He was about to close his eyes again when he noticed a wee figure standing in front of him shivering. “Ashlyn, do you wish to join us?”
    She nodded. “I’m cold.”
    Logan opened his plaid and shifted Gracie to make room for her sister. When he had both lassies repositioned, he wrapped his arms around them and covered all of them with his plaid. “Och, lassie, you’re a piece of ice.” He set one of his warm hands against her cold cheek and she sighed with relief. It took a few minutes to stop her shivering, but eventually she calmed.
    “Gwyneth, you should join us. Logan is warm.” Her voice squeaked out through the plaid.
    “I’m glad you are warm, Ashlyn. I am fine. Go to sleep.”
    Logan could swear her voice trembled. About an hour later, he felt her cold back press up against his. She had moved her fur. He whispered over his shoulder, “‘Tis much warmer in front. The girls are nice and toasty now.”
    Silence. The lass was ice cold, but too stubborn to move. “You have my word of honor as a Ramsay. I promised Grant I would behave and there are two bairns next to me. What do you believe I would do, Gwyneth?” A few more moments of silence before he heard her slide the fur over to the front of him.
    Her blue eyes bore into him. “Promise?”
    “Aye.”
    “Because I couldn’t handle it after the ship incident. ‘Twas bad.” He heard the tremor in her voice as she stared at the ground, and he knew how hard it was for her to say those words.
    “Aye, you have my word.” He held his plaid up.
    “How can we possibly do this with three of us?” she whispered.
    “Gracie needs my heat most. I’m taller than you, so she can squeeze between your shoulders and me. Ashlyn can fit in front of you and my arms are plenty big enough to wrap around all three of you.”
    She nodded and climbed behind Ashlyn, who hardly stirred in her sleep. As soon as he had everyone comfortable, he tossed the plaid over them and tugged them close. Why were women always so cold? Gwyneth shivered against him for a few minutes and must have started to fall asleep, because she let out a moan that went straight to his groin. She must have felt his hardness, because she froze and held her breath.
    “I promised. I can’t help being a man. Let it go, and I will, too.”
    God’s teeth, though, she felt like heaven in his arms.

 
    Chapter Eight
     
    That first night set a pattern for the rest, and Logan was pleased that the girls continued to eat whatever food he found for them. Further up the trail, he found some wild carrots and turnips in the ground. Once he scrubbed the dirt off them, wee Gracie would spend the entire day gnawing on a carrot as she rode in front of him. One evening Gwyneth and Ashlyn had broken into peals of laughter when they finally stopped—Gracie’s face was orange from all the carrot smeared over her cheeks. Gwyneth’s laughter was a sweet sound, he had to admit. The lass was much too serious and had dealt with so much tragedy in her short life. The sound of her enjoyment was wonderful to behold.
    After they ate a small meal, he returned to his horse and put the leftovers in his sack.
    “Ramsay, are you willing to share your skills?” Gwyneth stood on the far side of the clearing, her bow hooked over her shoulder.
    He grinned. “Aye. I can think of many skills I would share with such a fine lass as yourself, Gwyneth.”
    She glared at him. “Just remember, I’m close enough to you at night to use that dagger as I promised.”
    Ashlyn’s head spun around to stare at Gwyneth.