Page 85 of The Dragon Laird’s Obsession

His mouth twitched, and he caught himself before he smiled. “Perhaps a little.”

Then he mounted behind her and urged the horse forward at a slow pace. Gordon kept one hand near the reins, never allowing the mare to quicken. He watched Ailis carefully instead, his eyes trailing along the side of her face as she sat in front of him.

He could inhale the scent of wildflowers on her hair, and it drove him insane with a rush of heat that nearly made him inhale her scent deeply.

Her shoulders remained rigid as she sat in front of him. Her fingers clenched around the rein leather, and every small movement of the horse seemed to travel through her.

“Easy,” he murmured. “Ye need to calm yerself. The horses can sense yer fear,” he murmured to her, and she moved in front of him, allowing her hair to tickle his nostrils, making him draw in the breath he didn’t want to.

“I am calm,” she protested as they continued trotting forward, the rest of the hunting party spreading out into the moors with them.

“Ye are grippin’ the reins hard enough to strangle the poor beast.” She loosened her fingers a bit. Gordon chuckled. “There. That’s better.”

They rode on, and he kept watching her till he saw the tension gradually leave her shoulders.

Gordon stayed close enough to steady her if necessary, but he did not touch her hands. Not until the horse stumbled slightly over a patch of uneven ground.

Ailis’ hand jerked, and Gordon reached forward and covered it with his own.

“I’m right here,” he assured her.

He guided her fingers lower on the reins, his fingers circling over her slender ones. Ailis gasped in front of him, and warmth from her skin seeped into his colder ones. His throat tightened, and he swallowed back.

The warmth of her seemed to travel straight through his hand and settle somewhere deeper, stirring a hunger he had been trying desperately not to acknowledge. He looked down at their joined hands then back at her face.

God.

He should have let her go. Instead, his thumb moved once across her knuckles, almost without permission.

Her breath caught, and his own followed.

The small reaction sent another surge of desire through him, sharp enough to make his jaw tighten. He wanted to draw her closer. Wanted to feel more of that warmth beneath his hands. So he held her hand a moment longer than necessary, fighting the urge to pull her against him.

“Daenae fight her as she moves beneath ye. All ye need do is feel the movement,” he murmured again, and this time she drew in a shaky breath.

They continued moving through the fresh greens of the moors slowly until they reached the hunting ground.

Gordon dismounted first and turned toward her.

“Come.” He extended a hand to help her from the saddle, but she ignored his hand.

“I can get down meself.”

“I ken.” He held out his arms anyway.

Ailis hesitated before allowing him to lift her down. Her boots touched the earth, and his hands circled her waist, holding her close for one greedy second, so he felt her lush body pressed over his before he pulled away.

“Stay close.”

He tied the horse to a tree then turned and marched away, closing his eyes briefly to damn himself for wanting to keep her pressed against him for longer. They moved deeper into the hills, and Gordon knew she followed him closely while his eyes scouted for their prey.

Gordon spotted the deer first and raised one hand to stop her from moving.

He stilled himself then spoke in a soft, measured tone. “The first rule in huntin’ is total stillness and silence. Ye daenae want to spook yer prey.”

He took out his bow and arrow as he spoke then drew it in a swift move. The arrow flew across the grounds and hit the deer.

He retrieved the arrow. “Here. Ye should try.”