The Sinclair Hound (The Sinclair Jewels Book 1) by Caroline Lee

Author:Caroline Lee
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Romance, historical, Fiction
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2019-05-15T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

He’d told her not to look, but of course she did. And she kept staring, even when he was chest-deep in the water, washing himself with handfuls of sand. Having just done the same thing, she knew how cold the water was, and what a relief it was to wash away the filth from their travels.

A small grin on her lips, she began to gather kindling, already looking forward to the grilled fish. But she kept glancing back at Gregor, until he finally caught her looking and sent a fierce glower her way. She straightened from where she was arranging the fire, put both hands on her hips, and smiled at him, daring him to do aught about it.

He didn’t. Instead, his eyes turned thoughtful, then calculating—she could tell even from this distance. His chin dipped in acknowledgement, as if in challenge, and he began to move toward the shore.

As he waded closer, the water revealed more and more of him. First his chest, glistening with little beads of water, then his smooth stomach. How old was he? Not too much older than Agata, surely—his stomach was still flat and hard—but his silence had always made him seem older. She could see each line of his muscles, even where they gave way to a V-shape which seemed to point directly at his—

Pearl’s eyes went wide when the water dropped low enough to reveal…him.

She had three older sisters with whom she’d shared a room for years; many evenings were spent discussing men and their bodies. But nothing in her sisters’ descriptions could’ve prepared her for this. The manly part they’d all giggled about lay against a thatch of hair darker than the auburn on his head, and seemed longer than her hand. Even as she watched, the thing seemed to stir, to grow. By the time he reached knee-deep water, his member stood almost straight up.

Pearl’s gaze slammed up once more, meeting his gaze with a squeak of embarrassment. There was a faint amusement in his eyes, and she briefly considered teasing him right back…but when she glanced back down at that fascinating thing jutting toward her, she lost her courage and darted sideways to where his kilt lay balled. She scooped it up and threw it at him, and as she turned away, she heard a strange rasping noise.

It wasn’t until she’d forced herself to take a few deep breaths that she realized it was his laughter.

That knowledge—the knowledge that he could laugh, and over something so simple—kept her smiling throughout the simple meal preparation. That, and the memory of her reaction to his naked body. He’d been so magnificent, and she wouldn’t have minded watching him longer. She was curious; how did he feel? Before he’d plunged into the cold water, she’d been plastered against him, and had felt most of him well enough…including that intriguing bulge.

And the kiss they’d shared had been more exciting than aught else she could remember. The way he touched her—who knew that

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