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It seemed they were verbally sparring as well, though she couldn’t hear them.

The harder one laughed, the harder the other fought.

Aidan’s forearms bunched with each clash of the blades, and he also had tattoos around his arms, similar in style to Colin’s.

She couldn’t make out the details, but it looked like Celtic knots or some sort of vines.

She continued to shamelessly admire Aidan from the safety of the library.

His chest was sculpted, with incredible pecs that flexed menacingly with his sword fighting.

His stomach had more muscles than she thought humanly possible, and just the sight of his obliques inexplicably sped her breathing.

From this height, she could just make out a happy trail, and she suddenly had an intense desire to follow that trail wherever it would take her.

Emma almost slapped herself. She was being fanciful and ridiculous. Get a grip! she chided herself. Work ethic, Perkins. Dig it out from under that avalanche of lust.

She refused to think of the kiss last night. He was way out of her league, anyway. He was wealthy, model-gorgeous, knew how to wear a medieval léine, and was, she admitted, a great kisser. The man did things with his tongue that made her—

She blew out a breath slowly. Do. Not. Think. Of. That. Apparently, after convincing her they didn’t exist, her hormones finally decided to make an appearance in her life.

She was not appreciative of their timing.

When the two men finally paused for a water break, Emma decided it was time to stop ogling and get down to her reading.

The trouble was, history didn’t hold a candle to her present day.

“Ow!”

Emma shook her hand and glared at the fancy espresso/latte/coffee device in Colin’s kitchen. It looked harmless when she first approached it, but the moment she touched the damn thing, it spit and hissed like a wild, caged animal.

Because she was the first one up today, she thought it might be nice to make coffee.

Colin always seemed to have some ready for her and anyone else who wanted it, so when she awoke, she padded down the gorgeous white-and-oak stairs, her steps muffled on the beautiful oriental stair treads.

Her bare toes sank into the thick carpet in the main hallway on the way to the stunning chef’s kitchen, and she marveled at the house’s cleanliness.

Except the office , she reminded herself with a chuckle.

She placed her hands on her hips and returned her attention to the problem at hand. She never actually saw Colin make the coffee; she wasn’t sure where to put the grounds.

She glanced at the maple cabinets above the caramel-colored granite counters and let out a sigh. She didn’t even know which one would contain coffee.

She spied a little red lever on the angry machine and the box of English Breakfast tea on the counter.

After a quick search, she located the coffee mugs and placed a bag in one.

She placed her cup under the spout and had her finger on the lever when a rumble of laughter from behind stopped her cold.

“I wouldn’t use that one, lass.” Aidan walked into the kitchen, dressed in a black tee and running shorts, a towel around his neck. “That starts the foamer.”

“Foamer?” she echoed, carefully removing her hand.

“Aye. I don’t know why he doesn’t have a normal pot, like the rest of mankind.”

She looked down at her cup. “Well, perhaps I won’t have any tea, either.”

“Either?”

She removed the bag and placed her cup back in the cabinet. “Well, at first I thought it would be nice if I made coffee for everyone, since Colin always has it made for everyone else. When I hit the on switch, it spit at me and burned my hand.”

“It spit at you,” Aidan repeated, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Yes,” she said firmly, “it spit at me. Then I realized that I didn’t know where the coffee was, so I gave up that plan. I saw the tea and thought I’d make a cup, but, well, you know how that went.” She glared at the machine. “I don’t like this thing.”

Aidan walked around the island between them, and she suddenly felt like…prey.

Was there a word for prey that wanted to be caught?

No, no, no. Stop it. He’s just going to show me how to—

He stopped directly in front of her, his body inches from hers, and slowly leaned in.

Emma’s breath hitched, and her body went on full alert, her senses hyperaware of him.

His clean scent filled her nose, and his nearness turned her knees to jelly.

When her eyes locked on his clean-shaven face, it took every fiber of her being not to rise up on her toes and run her tongue along his jawline.

His eyes met hers, and she saw it—raw hunger. As he raised his hand, so slowly, she parted her lips, hoping for a second taste of Aidan MacWilliam.

The sound of something rustling above her head forced her to look up.

Aidan brought a bag of coffee down to the counter and trapped her between his arms.

She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to move.

They stood like that for a long moment before he shook his head a little, as if questioning his sanity, before he placed his hand on her jaw, tugged it open, and melded his firm lips to hers.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and suddenly she was enveloped in his arms, his hand stroking her neck.

He cradled her head and flicked his tongue to hers.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brought them up to his neck, pushing the towel from him.

He kissed her gently, carefully, as though she would break.

She sighed softly and leaned into him, and he growled into her mouth.

Aidan kept one hand in her hair, his fingers gentle, and pressed his other hand into the small of her back, bringing her body flush with his.

He deepened the kiss, devouring her in the best of ways.

Emma felt cherished, branded, and hot all over.

She pressed into him harder, and he slid his hand up her spine, sending chills throughout her overheated body.

She ran her fingers through his hair, surprised at its softness.

He drew her attention away from wandering thoughts, when, without breaking the kiss, he grasped her waist and lifted her onto the counter.

He angled her head and the kiss took on a life of its own, searing her.

She lost all coherent thought.

His hands were on her back, her shoulders, her hair, her legs. She dragged her hands up his abs, feeling the ridges of muscles and flesh; she wanted to tear his shirt off and kiss him everywhere, all at once.

“Ahem.”

Dimly, she registered that someone was standing on the other side of the island, and she tried to disengage from Aidan.

“Kitchen’s closed,” Aidan said, his voice rough. He rested his forehead against Emma’s.

“Let me know when it’s open, all right? I need some coffee before I start working,” Colin replied, the grin in his voice unmistakable. A few seconds later, a door opened and closed.

They looked at each other for a moment, breathing hard, and didn’t say anything. Aidan flicked his gaze to her lips, and kissed her hard and deep before pulling away. “I won’t apologize for that.”

More confused than ever, she glared at him. “I don’t know whether to slap you or…or…”

His green gaze locked on her for another moment, and he let out a sudden chuckle. “Christ, Emma, what you reduce me to. Kissing you in my cousin’s kitchen.”

“That felt more like ravishing,” she snapped before she could stop herself. She slid off the counter .

He brought his body against hers once more, and she cursed herself for freezing in place.

He leaned down, his mouth on her ear, and ran his tongue along it.

“If you thought a mere kiss was a ravishment, then you’ve never been properly ravished,” he whispered.

He wagged his eyebrows at her, and she pushed away from him. He chuckled.

“I hate it when I miss a good joke,” Reilly said, walking in.

He was dressed similarly to Aidan, in shorts and a tee, holding a towel and a water bottle.

His jaw hardened when he saw the two of them together.

“You look like you’re ready for our exercise this morning, MacWilliam.

And your lady friend looks like she may be in need of a guardian. ”

“Give it a rest, O’Malley.”

“I’m a Protector,” Reilly said, as though that were some sort of explanation.

Emma wrinkled her brow. “What do you protect?” she asked.

“All sorts of things,” he replied. “Lasses, mostly.”

She arched a brow at him. “That’s archaic.”

“More like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, lass.” He threw a nod toward Aidan, who gave her a quick grimace and headed out the back door.

“Is it safe to enter?” Colin asked, poking his head in the kitchen. He gave her a dazzling smile and noticed the bag behind her. “Ah. I see you found the coffee.”

She threw up her hands and stomped toward the stairs, leaving Colin scratching his chin, a smile on his face, in the kitchen.