Page 121 of Steel & Surrender

There was no rush, no fumbling.

She let the moment draw out, the air between them tightening with each slow movement as she loosened the garment and slipped it from her shoulders. It fell to the floor in a whisper of fabric, leaving her in her thin, ankle-length lèine.

Still, she did not look away.

His breathing had deepened. “Brì,” he whispered. “Ye—”

“I’m not done yet,” she replied with a smile, even as nervousness quickened in her belly.

She wasn’t used to behaving so boldly. It was both thrilling and terrifying.

Before her courage failed her, she pulled her lèine over her head and let it fall onto the wooden floorboards.

The fire’s warmth kissed her skin.

She felt exposed, standing there, especially as his hot gaze raked down the length of her body, taking in every detail. Of course, she hadn’t disrobed completely that night in the forge. She’d never given him a chance to gaze upon her like this.

Her breathing grew shallow. She hoped he liked what he saw.

Greig’s lips had parted slightly. A slight blush stained his cheekbones. He wanted her, aye, but there was more than hunger in his eyes.

A tenderness that made her chest ache.

Seated there by the fire, clad in only leather breeches, Greig shifted in his seat and parted his thighs.

The stance was an open invitation.

Brìghde couldn’t help but lower her gaze to his groin, marking the heavy outline of his rod, straining against leather.

Mother Mary. Heat pooled in her lower belly.

This man was temptation itself, and he was all hers. She couldn’t wait to feast upon him. They had all night. No one would interrupt them. She wanted to explore every inch of his skin, to hear every groan and sigh.

As if reading her lewd thoughts, his lips quirked in a sultry smile that made her pulse jump. “Come here,” he said, his voice low, roughened.

Smiling back, Brìghde went to him.

EPILOGUE: A PLACE OF HER OWN

One year later …

BRÌGHDE PRICKED HER finger.

“Hades,” she muttered, sucking the bead of blood away before it could stain the linen.

“Careful, or ye’ll ruin Mairi’s best cloth,” Maggie teased from across the solar.

Brìghde shot her a look, though a smile tugged at her mouth as she wiped her needle clean and set back to work. “Then perhaps Mairi should stop giving me such fine things to mend.”

Mairi didn’t look up from her stitching. “Or perhaps ye should stop trying to rush through it, so ye can get back to yer workshop.”

Opposite, Astrid snorted a laugh, and Brìghde’s smile widened.

Her mother-by-marriage knew her too well these days.

They all did.

Warmth spread through her chest as she bent once more over the linen stretched between her hands. Sunlight slanted through the narrow window beside her, catching on the thread as she drew it through in a smooth pull.