The Depths of Her Soul (Highlander Heroes Book 4) by Rebecca Ruger

Author:Rebecca Ruger [Ruger, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rebecca Ruger
Published: 2020-08-12T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

They returned to the shore at about the same pace that had taken them so far out, Lachlan’s strength seemingly limitless, his arms and legs in perpetual motion.

Her concerns over her wet kirtle returned as soon as Lachlan put his feet onto the rippled sand under water and they walked back to shore. First, Mari had to lift the heavy fabric up out of the water, the wet linen so weighty that it hindered her every step. When that issue was resolved by coming up onto the shore, she looked down and was made aware of exactly how revealing the linen was now, that she saw the entire globe of her breasts and even the pink tipped nipples were completely visible. Reflexively, Mari pulled the gown away from her, thankful that Lachlan walked a half-pace in front of her. With the fabric plucked away from her skin, she assured herself that her modesty was preserved for the moment.

Lachlan ran his fingers through his hair, and shook his head several times, spraying water in all directions. He stopped where their piles of clothing sat and scooped up his tunic, using that to dry off his arms and chest. But he did not then don the long shirt but laid it out in the sand and sat down. He bent his knees and slung his forearms over them and stared out at the sea.

It occurred to her that he might have done this to afford her some privacy to make sense of her own condition and garments. He’d laid the tunic out and now sat several feet in front of her, closer to the water.

Of course, she could not don her gown just yet as her kirtle was still dripping but thought there might be a way to sit next to him and allow the sun and trifling breeze to dry her undergarments. She laid out her dry gown within a foot of where Lachlan was and sat down on the sun-warmed linen. She crossed her legs, her feet tucked in at the juncture of her thighs, and pulled the wet linen taut over her knees, which happily tented all the fabric away from her breasts and covered every inch of skin from the neck down, save for her hands.

She was cold now but hadn’t any plan to complain about this and run the risk that he would want to leave the beach.

“Do you spend much time down here?” She asked. “You must have, to have mastered swimming as you have.”

He turned his head on his shoulder, giving some consideration to her kirtle and how she’d arranged it, and said, “I was here all the time as a lad. All year long, couldn’t be kept away by foul weather even.”

“What is it like in the winter, though?”

His lip curved. “Like this, only colder.”

“So enlightening.”

The grin expanded, but he did add, “It’s wilder in the winter as we tend to have more storms, but roaring waves that reach as far as the boats up there hold plenty of temptation to a lad.

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