Page 2 of One Forbidden Kiss with the Laird (The Cinderella Shepherd Sisters #2)

This time he was underneath her. She landed in his lap, straddling him, her dress torn at the front.

Before he could avert his eyes he caught a glimpse of the soft swell of her breasts and the creamy skin of her chest. Her hips pressed down on to his and if they hadn’t been in the mud as the storm raged around them it would have been an erotic position.

Her eyes came up and met him and for a moment something crackled and pulsed between them. Then Hamish barked, breaking the connection.

With a little gasp of embarrassment she looked down at her torn dress, clutching the ragged edges together to try to protect her modesty. It was pointless, the material was ripped from her neckline to her waist, exposing the white of her chemise underneath.

For a second he thought she might cry, or perhaps accuse him of attacking her again, but instead she surveyed the scene around them, taking in her ripped clothes, their position on the ground and the mud streaked up both their legs.

Then she laughed. It started as a bubble of laughter, as if it was something she could not contain, and built and built until there were tears streaming down her cheeks.

At first Callum was bemused at her reaction, but the laughter was contagious and he felt his own lips start to twitch.

A minute later she was still straddling him and as she wiped the tears from underneath her eyes she glanced down, seeming only then to realise she hadn’t risen and they were still pressed scandalously close together.

‘Forgive me,’ she murmured, holding his eye and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to reach up and kiss her.

Never before had he felt such attraction to a stranger and he wondered if she was one of the mythical creatures of legend the old men told stories of around the fire.

Perhaps a selkie, turned human for a night of frolicking out of the water, only to disappear into the waves of the ocean with the sunrise.

‘You’re forgiven,’ he said, his voice soft.

Hamish barked and came to nuzzle against him, no doubt wondering why his master was acting so daft.

It was the distraction they both needed and quickly the young woman swung her leg over his body and stood, holding the edges of her ripped dress together.

She turned away, taking a moment to adjust her cloak so it covered her bare skin and allowed her to retain a little of her modesty.

‘I am sorry for making you so muddy,’ she said, her eyes lingering on his body in a way that made him want to snatch her into his arms.

‘It will wash out. I hope you will not get into trouble for returning so dishevelled.’

She gave a momentary sad little twitch of her lips, halfway between a smile and a grimace. ‘I doubt anyone will notice.’

‘There’s no protective father or horde of brothers I need to worry about hunting me down for returning you home in such a condition.’

‘No,’ she said, not elaborating. Normally Callum would leave it at that. He was a man who knew the importance of keeping out of another’s business, but the young woman looked so forlorn he wanted to know more.

‘Let me escort you home, Miss…’

‘Shepherd. Selina Shepherd.’

‘I am Callum Thomson. Where are you staying? The inn at Ballachulish?’ It was obvious she wasn’t local. He was no expert on accents from south of the border, but he did know his Scottish dialects and hers was not one.

She shook her head. ‘I’m staying at Loch View Lodge.’

Callum stiffened. He knew Loch View Lodge well, or at least he had when it’d been called Taigh Blath.

Ten years ago it had been the heart of his family’s lands, the home his ancestors had fought for and ruled from for generations.

After his father’s death there had been no choice but to sell.

It had broken his heart to dispose of the Thomson family legacy and to hand over control of the land and the tenants to some absent Englishman who wished to gather his rents from afar.

He grimaced, regarding Miss Shepherd with a new suspicion.

His eyes danced over the plain black cloak and the ripped dress.

They were well made, but far from fancy.

Clearly she held a decent position in Sir William’s party, but he doubted if she was family.

Sir William was a wealthy man and he would not have to scrimp and save on fabric and dressmakers for his dependents.

Perhaps she was a companion or governess.

‘You are with Sir William?’ He tried valiantly to keep the disdain from his voice, but from the curious look she gave him he could tell he wasn’t successful. She nodded, although did not volunteer any further information.

‘You know Sir William?’

‘I’ve never met him, but we have conducted business in the past.’ The answer seemed to satisfy her and to his relief he was not pressed to reveal more.

He was loath to examine too closely why he didn’t want Miss Shepherd to know he was due to meet with Sir William in the morning, to commence negotiations with regards to his daughter’s dowry.

Callum had no desire to marry a pampered young Miss from London, but it was the price he was going to have to pay to get his land back.

‘I will walk with you back to Taigh Blath. The weather is only set to get worse and I do not wish for you to get lost in the hills.’

She hesitated for a moment, but a particularly strong gust of wind whipping at her cloak and the tattered remnants of her dress made her shiver.

‘Thank you.’