Page 29 of The Laird's Vengeful Desire

“What?” Rhona’s eyes went wide. “Now?”

“Why not? The day’s warm, the water’s… well, it’s wet.” Ian’s grin was pure mayhem. “Unless the fearsome MacAlpin lass is afraid of a wee bit of Highland water.”

“I’m nae afraid of anythin’.” Rhona shot back, though her voice held an almost imperceptible tremor that suggested otherwise.

“Prove it then.”

For a moment, Ian thought she might refuse. Then, her chin lifted in that all-too-familiar gesture of defiance, and she began unlacing her boots.

“If I drown, I’m hauntin’ ye fer the rest of yer days,” she muttered, pulling off her stockings with quick, nervous movements.

“I’ll nae let ye drown,” Ian said quietly, and something in his tone made her look up. “I promise.”

Their eyes met and held, and Ian felt something shift between them – another crumb of trust offered and accepted. Rhona nodded once, then stood and walked to the water’s edge in her shift.

This woman could make a monk desert his vows.

Ian quickly turned away to give her privacy as she waded into the shallows. The cold water hit him like a Highland winter’s slap when he followed, and he heard Rhona’s sharp intake of breath.

Everything about her called out to something primal deep within him, something that had absolutely nothing to do withpolitics or clan alliances and everything to do with the most fundamental attraction between man and woman.

It is madness, he thought desperately, forcing himself to focus on the technical aspects of swimming rather than the way her wet shift clung to every enticing curve.

“Bloody hell, ‘tis colder than a dead man’s grave!”

“Ye’ll get used tae it,” Ian chuckled, slowly moving toward her. “The trick is nae tae think about it too much.”

Rhona stood thigh-deep in the water, her arms wrapped around herself, shivering despite the warm afternoon air.

“Right,” he said, stopping an arm’s length away. “First lesson. Trust.”

“Trust?”

“Aye. Swimming is about trust – trustin’ the water tae hold ye, trustin’ yer body tae ken what tae dae.” Ian extended his hands, palms up. “And trustin’ me nae tae let ye sink.”

Rhona stared at his offered hands for a long moment. “This is madness.”

“Probably. Will ye trust me anyway?”

She placed her hands in his then, and Ian felt the tremor that ran through her fingers. “I repeat, if ye let me drown, I promise I’ll find a way tae make yer life miserable beyond the grave.”

“Noted.” Ian’s smile was gentle as he began guiding her deeper into the pool. “Now, the first thing tae remember is that the water wants tae hold ye up. Ye just have tae let it.”

“That makes nay sense.”

“It will. Here, I’ll hold ye from the bottom. Lean yer back ontae me hands.”

Rhona hesitated, then did as he instructed. The moment her body touched his hands, Ian felt a jolt of awareness race through his veins.

Focus.

“Now, let yer feet come up slowly. I’ve got ye.”

“Ian–”

“I’ve got ye, lass.” He repeated firmly. “Just let go.”

Rhona took a shaky breath and allowed her feet to lift from the bottom. For a moment she flailed, panic flashing across her features, but Ian’s steady grip kept her stable.