Binding Vows(52)

“Which means we would be getting back after dark. Is it safe?” She glanced toward the woods and thought of thieves living in them.

“I can protect you, Tara.”

She noted the massive sword strapped to his waist, his straight back and ruffled hair reminded her she had nothing to fear. No self-respecting criminal would willingly clash swords with him. He would protect her and look good while doing it! He is the definition of eye candy. She forgot to block the words from him.

An image of a child’s sucker being popped into her mouth came straight from Duncan’s mind. She watched his laughing eyes, their expression bordered on seductive. He drew his horse closer.

“Would you like a taste?”

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Her teeth caught her bottom lip. “Maybe a little.” What harm could come on the back of a horse?

He dropped his lips to hers, like every time they connected, Tara felt shudders of pleasure drifting down her body.

Unable to keep her thoughts to herself, Tara moaned inside and out. I want more. Her hand resting on his chest moved over his body, searching for skin-to-skin contact.

The horses pushed away from each other, breaking their contact.

Tara, feeling off balance, struggled to keep her seat. Duncan struggled in a different way. The effect of their brief contact had his leggings tight, and his position on the back of his horse was uncomfortable.

Tara struggled to keep from smiling when she read what Duncan thought.

“You’re thinking this funny are you?”

Not able to stop, Tara started laughing so hard she doubled over and had to hold her sides for support. “I’m sorry, really.” His serious look made her laugh even harder. Tears fell with every renewed giggle. “Maybe you should go back to wearing a kilt.”

“Perhaps I will.”

Tara imagined his ease with seduction while wearing such clothing. She quickly stopped laughing after reading his thoughts.

He changed the subject and kept her busy with instructions on riding until they reached the edge of the village.

Tara gawked at the sights. The village was right off the pages of a novel. Thatched roofs on top of simple buildings blotted the landscape. Smoke from cooking fires rose out of pits both in and outside the dwellings. Children ran free along with dogs and an 153



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occasional chicken.

People stopped what they were doing and watched when they approached. Greetings came in the form of waves and an occasional bow.

Tara noticed a few mules corralled or hooked up to an occasional cart and asked, “Where are all their horses?”

“Not many villagers can afford the luxury of a mount. Those that do are in the outlying fields working the summer harvest or herding sheep. They prepare all spring and summer for our long winters.”

“Oh.” Long winters weren’t something she thought much about after years of living in Southern California. Instead of dwelling on the unknown, Tara noticed a cart loaded with what looked like dirty cotton. “...and over there?” Tara pointed to the cart. “Wool, from the sheep. The women will comb out the dirt, divide it up into colors. Some will be dipped and dyed for fabric, some will be spun for blankets.”

He had more to tell, but she was already moving on to the next question.

“...and that?”

“Our resident smith.”

“And there, do you have someone who makes glass here?”

“Aye, we do.”

“I remember reading once that people in this time often were sick from lead poisoning. I noticed most of the dishes and cooking surfaces are some type of iron. Do you know if they contain lead?”

“Some I suppose.”

“You might consider having him make more of the cooking and eating surfaces.”

Duncan nodded at her. “Aye, I will.”

The scent of baked apples filled the air. “Mmm...

what smells so good?”

“Mrs. Claunch. She makes the best sweet pies.

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Would you like one?” He signaled for a nearby lad to fetch the leads of his horse after he dismounted.

Duncan took her by the waist, and helped her from the horse.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she teased.

“The pleasure is mine, my Lady.” He swept her fingers in his hand, and brushed the back of them with his lips.

They stared at each other.

You sure have the moves.

Are they working then, Tara love?

Instead of answering, she kept his hand from dropping hers and placed it above her rapidly beating heart. You tell me?

The clearing of someone’s throat stopped him from capturing her lips. He turned to see Mrs.

Claunch dusting flour from her hands.

“Lord Duncan, give the girl some room, lad. She looks a bit flushed to me.”