Temptation in a Kilt (Bad Boys of the Highlands) by Victoria Roberts

Author:Victoria Roberts
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2012-08-31T12:00:00+00:00

Ten

Rosalia descended the stairs to break her fast, still smiling at the gift that had been placed upon her chair early this morn. She thoroughly enjoyed being able to bare her soul last eve to Ciaran. As she remembered their conversation, she prayed he did not think her daft. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was some foolish chit. After all, she was not a delicate flower. She just needed someone to offer her comfort and he was a wonderful listener. She was comforted by the fact that James was not the only man she could speak with openly.

As she approached the dais, Ciaran was already breaking his fast with Aiden. Odd, Declan and Aisling were not in attendance. Aisling was probably with Teàrlach, and Rosalia hoped Declan was not cowering somewhere recovering from a night of debauchery.

Both men stood upon her approach.

“And how are ye this morn, sweeting?” asked Ciaran.

She was startled not only because the endearment was spoken, but because it was expressed so freely in front of Aiden. She cast Aiden a nervous glance, but he just smiled and went back to his meal as though nothing were out of the ordinary. “I am well. And ye, my laird?”

He kissed her on the cheek and heat rose in her features. Pulling out her chair, he whispered closely, “I would think after last eve ye would call me Ciaran.”

Turning another shade of crimson, Rosalia sat down on the chair.

“I left something for ye this morn. Did ye get it?” he asked softly.

“Aye,” she whispered back, trying desperately to remove the color from her face.

“I thought ye might want another one for mayhap when we ride again or if ye wish to wear it to bed.” He cast a roguish grin. “After all, ye donna want to wear out my other tunic. The one I left ye was recently made.”

Her eyes started to stray to her hands, and she forced herself to look him in the eye. “Ye have my thanks.” Rosalia paused, touching him gently on the arm. “Ciaran, about last eve…”

“What about last eve?” slurred Declan, staggering to the table.

When Ciaran grunted, she thought it best to redirect. “Aiden, where is Aisling this morn?”

“She is with Teàrlach,” he mumbled, throwing looks of displeasure at Declan.

“Hmm… And what do ye do this day, my laird?” Rosalia asked Ciaran as Declan tumbled into his chair, knocking over a tankard.

“Before or after I battle with Declan?” Ciaran spoke through gritted teeth. Leaning forward, he narrowed his eyes at Declan. “Break your fast. Then we practice swordplay with the men in the bailey.”

Ignoring him, Declan took a leisurely drink from his tankard. When Declan turned his head, Ciaran was annoyed to see how glassy his younger brother’s eyes were. “But my great liege, I already practiced my swordplay yestereve.” Declan nodded to two serving wenches who were giving him smoldering glances from across the hall. “Twice, I do believe. Howbeit ye will be pleased to know they said I mastered it verra well,” he said arrogantly.

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