Page 86 of The Icy Highlander's Virgin

Instead of settling by the fire as usual after finishing their wine, he moved to a carved wooden chest near the window.

"There's another way to learn strategy," he said, lifting out an ornate chess set. "Knowin' how to play chess teaches ye to think several moves ahead, to anticipate yer opponent's plans."

Erica moved closer to examine the board as he set it up. The pieces were exquisite—carved from what looked like aged ivory, each one a work of art.

"Teach me," she said simply.

"The pieces were carved from ivory found at the bottom of the sea," he said, arranging the pieces with careful precision.

"Well, I'm suitably impressed," Erica replied, though there was a teasing note in her voice. "But will it make me play any better?"

"That depends entirely on yer skill, not the board."

He began explaining the rules, how each piece moved, and the objective of protecting the king while capturing the opponent's. Erica listened attentively, asking intelligent questions that showed she was grasping the concepts quickly.

"Now, let's see what ye can do," he said, gesturing for her to make the first move.

The game began simply enough, with Lachlan offering guidance and explaining strategy. But as the minutes passed, he began to realize that Erica was making increasingly sophisticated moves, her attacks coordinated and her defenses solid.

"Ye little minx," he said after she'd captured his bishop with a particularly clever maneuver. "Ye've played before, haven't ye?"

"Perhaps," she said innocently, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Those expensive chess pieces from the bottom of the sea arenae helpin' ye much, are they?"

"So confident, are ye?" He leaned back in his chair, studying her across the board. "Perhaps we should raise the stakes."

"What kind of stakes?"

His smile was wicked. "For each piece ye lose, ye remove an article of clothin'."

Erica's cheeks flushed, but she lifted her chin with false bravado. "That's hardly fair. Ye have all yer clothes on, and I've only got me night rail."

"Then ye'd better keep winnin'," he said, his voice dropping to that low, dangerous tone that made her stomach flutter. "Unless ye're scared?"

The challenge in his voice sparked something defiant in her. "I'm nae scared of anythin', least of all losin' to ye at chess."

"Prove it."

She moved her knight with deliberate precision, capturing one of his pawns. "Yer move, husband."

The game shifted after her bold declaration. Lachlan's moves became more calculated, more ruthless, and soon Erica found herself at a distinct disadvantage even though she continued to win.

"That's me rook," he said with satisfaction, capturing her castle with his queen. "And I believe that means..."

Erica's cheeks burned as she reached for the ties of her night rail, but her hands hesitated at the ribbons. This was it—the moment that would leave her completely vulnerable before him.

"Havin’ second thoughts?" he asked softly, though his eyes never left her face.

"Never," she said, though her voice wavered slightly. With trembling fingers, she loosened the ties and let the thin linen slip from her shoulders.

But instead of the hungry look she'd expected, Lachlan's expression grew soft with something that looked almost like reverence. His gaze traveled over her slowly, not with crude assessment but with the appreciation of a man who understood he was being given a precious gift.

"Absolutely bonnie," he breathed, rising from his chair. "Bonniest lass in all of Highland."

The way he said it—with such genuine admiration—made her feel not exposed, but cherished. When he moved around the chessboard toward her, his steps were careful, giving her every chance to stop him.

"I want ye," he whispered, his hands hovering just above her shoulders.

She nodded, unable to speak, and felt his warm palms settle gently against her skin. His touch was reverent, worshipful, as if she were made of the finest porcelain.