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“Let us make it interesting then, shouldnae we?” Matthew stood to his feet. Jonet watched, unable to tear her gaze away, as he took off his shirt to reveal the bronze chest covered in blond curls underneath. She pulled her legs closer together.

“You cannae mean…”

“I willnae look at ye,” he said quickly, but his words held little force when paired with his devilish grin. “I’ll wait until ye’re in the water before I look at ye again.”

Jonet slowly got to her feet. She pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders, as if to hide the peaking of her nipples at his suggestion. She had always gone swimming alone, not even able to coax Freya into the water whenever her maid would accompany her. To think that the first time she would swim with someone else, they would be doing it without any clothing.

Yet she did not protest. The tips of her fingers tingled with anticipation and she said nothing as she waved him off so that she could discard of her own clothing. Matthew smiled and nodded before he turned and walked off a short distance.

“Daenae ye dare to turn around,” she warned, letting her shawl fall to the floor.

“Aye, aye. I wouldnae dare incur yer wrath,” he drawled.

Jonet was trembling with excitement. She felt the flush of the wind on her skin as she left the last bit of her clothing on the blanket and she padded over to the loch. The water was chilly, causing her to shiver a little, but she went in as deeply as she could, treading the waters so that the waves bobbed over her shoulders. “All right, ye can turn around now.”

He turned to the sound of her voice. Jonet flushed when his eyes landed on her, but she knew that, because of the darkness of the loch, he would not be able to see anything.

Matthew lifted a finger and twirled it. She flushed again when she realized he was telling her to turn around.

Jonet did as he asked, her heart hammering. She listened out for him, hearing nothing for a short while until the rippling of the water sounded behind her.

After a minute of silence, there was a tap on her shoulder. She faced him. “Ah, it has been some time since I last swam like this,” he was much freer in his movements, which Jonet envied a little. He had much less to show after all.

“The water is a bit cold, though,” she pointed out. “I daenae ken how much long we’ll be able to stay in here before our toes begin to freeze off.”

“Worry nae, me dear. I will keep ye warm in me tender embrace.” He lifted his arms and swam closer to her.

Jonet swam away as quickly as she could, splashing water at him in the process. “Daenae do that!” she screeched.

He only laughed in response. “Do ye want to have yer fingers and toes fall off from the chill of the loch, Jonet?”

“I can warm meself up, thank ye very much.”

“Ah, but what better way to do that than to share the body heat of someone as lovin’ and as passionate as I?”

He tried to come a little closer and Jonet held up a warning finger. She could not stop the laughter from tickling her lips. “You wouldnae dare…”

“Oh? Is that a challenge I hear?”

“Matthew, I’m warnin’ ye…”

“Ah, it is a challenge. Well, I am nae a man if I cannae accept it in good honor. Come, let us share this lovely embrace.”

Jonet squealed as she swam away from him, adrenaline coursing through her body. His hands swiped at her and her heart raced whenever she would narrowly miss it. It was reminiscent of the times she would chase the village kids around when she was younger. Laughing deliriously as she tried to escape him, she could not remember when last she had so much fun.

Matthew was a perfect gentleman. He never touched her, save for a simple pat on her shoulder to claim his victory. To which she responded with a splash of water in his face and denouncement of said victory. Which started the entire thing back up again.

They did not tire of energy. Jonet thought she could swim for the entire n

ight—as foolish as that might be—but then he grasped her by her wrist, pulling her toward him.

A squeak slipped out as she was pressed to him, her back to his chest. Suddenly, the water no longer felt so cold.

“I win,” he whispered close to her ear.

Jonet’s heart was hammering. Or perhaps that was Matthew’s heart she heard, the one she could already feel beating against her spine. His hair-covered arms banded around her midsection, holding her tightly against him as his legs drifted back and forth to keep them afloat.

Jonet could not focus on any of that. The only thing her mind could think of was the length of him pressed against her inner thigh. She could feel him. As bold and as upright as ever. She had never felt so aroused.


Tags: Lydia Kendall Historical