"Chasing a Highland Moon" is my 3rd book in The Highland Moon Series. The hero, Cinead, or "Cin" was a secondary character in my second book, "Once Upon a Highland Moon." Here is an excerpt from "Chasing a Highland Moon."
"Come,"
he said, his voice a soft timbre that sent a shiver over her skin.
Claire
opened the door. Saints above! He was taking a bath. She squeezed her eyes shut
tight and quickly turned her back to him."I-I-I've yer whisky, m'laird,"
she said in a voice unsteady even to her own ears.
"Then
bring it here, lass."
Claire
slowly turned around and walked toward the tub, keeping her eyes fastened on
his face. His eye and the bruise on his cheek were almost completely healed,
and she could now see what an attractive man he truly was. When she handed him
the bottle, his devilish grin sent her insides into a spin.
He
raised a brow. "Could you fetch me a cup from the table? Or should I get
it myself?" He shifted, as if he were about to rise out of the tub.
"Nay,"
she squeaked, quickly grabbing the cup and handing it to him.
He
grinned and settled back against the tub. "Much thanks." He poured
himself a dram of whisky and tossed it back, then poured another. He held up
the cup. "Would you like a wee dram, lass?"
Claire
shook her head, even though she more than likely needed one at the moment.
He
shrugged. "Suit yourself. But if you should change your mind, let me
ken."
She
was mesmerized by the play of muscle in his arms and across his chest. The same
muscles that had been hard and smooth beneath her hands. Her whole body suddenly
felt flushed, as if by a fever. She had to get out of the bedchamber—and away
from him and the wanton way he made her feel. "If ye're in need of naught
else, I'll be taking my leave now." She turned to go.
"I'm
afraid I am in need of your help, lass."
She
turned back around. "In what way, m'laird?"
"My
hair and my back."
Saints
above! What was he talking about? "M'laird?"
"My
ribs have not entirely healed and I am unable to reach my back. Would you mind?"
He smiled, holding the soap out to her.
She
reluctantly took the sandalwood scented cake and moved to stand behind him. She
had never washed anyone's hair in her life, and until recently, Alice had
washed Claire's since she was a child.
Claire
hesitated. "I'm afraid I might hurt yer head."
"Dinnae
fash yourself, lass. You'll no' hurt me."
Claire
took a deep breath. "Very well." She lifted the bucket of water left
beside the tub, and slowly poured half of it over Cin's head, then set it back
down. After achieving a good lather, she worked it through his long hair, ever
mindful of his injury while she did. Once it was clean, she rinsed the suds
away with the rest of the water.
"Finished,
m'laird," she said, admiring the wet tendrils hanging well past his
shoulders.
"Much
thanks, Jenny. Now my back, if you dinnae mind." He leaned forward and
waited.
She
slowly ran the soap over his skin, making certain she did not miss a spot. Long
after she was finished, she let her hands travel over his shoulders, down his
back and over his ribs, for she ever so much enjoyed touching him. Sensations
she had never experienced centered in the pit of her stomach and moved outward
over her entire body. Cin groaned and she yanked her hand away, fearing she might
have hurt him. "'Tis done," she said, trying to keep her trembling
voice steady, but feared she was not doing a very good job. She dried her hands
and picked up the empty tray.
Cin
leaned back and looked at her, his gaze much darker than before. "Dinnae
fash yourself, lass. I'm no' in the habit of seducing my servants, however
beautiful they may be. His blue eyes twinkled as his mouth curved into a wicked
grin.
Claire
couldn't breathe. She dropped her gaze, tightening her grip on the tray until
her knuckles turned white. "If there be naught else, m'laird, I'll take m'
leave."
Cin
was silent for a moment, then spoke. "That will be all."
"Aye,
m'laird." She curtsied and could not get out of his bedchamber quickly
enough. She hurried down the corridor and as far away from Cin MacLeod's sinful
gaze as she could possibly get.
Stopping
short of entering the kitchen, she leaned against the stone wall and blew out a
breath to steady her nerves, as well as her trembling hands. Saints above! The
man was far too attractive.
Gwyn
.jpg)