![Christine Dorsey - [MacQuaid 02]](https://fs.ageofbook.com/513097/thumbs/152x264/christine-dorsey-macquaid-02.jpg)
step, only to stop abruptly when the door opened and Logan appeared.
“Have a care for the milk you’re spilling Your Highness.”
Rachel righted the pail, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “You look... different.”
He seemed not to understand her statement for a moment, then grinned rather self-deprecatingly. That’s when she first noticed his dimples. Two of them on either side of his mouth. At first they seemed out of place on such a solemn man. But the more she looked, the more taken she was by this new discovery. He was far more handsome than she’d originally thought. His beauty was as rugged as the land.
“I thought it best to rid myself of the beard before the ceremony of Ah,tawh,hung,nah .”
“Oh.” Hardly a witty comment, but Rachel couldn’t think of a thing to say. It occurred to her that she was staring rather unabashedly and quickly averted her eyes. “I’ve milked Mistress Ellen,” she said for lack of anything better to say.
He arched a brow but made no comment about her naming his cow. He did step forward looking at the pail with some interest. Rachel thought him about to chastise her for spilling so much but instead appeared pleasantly surprised. “I see the cow tried a bit harder today.”
“What? Oh, yes.”
“I started supper. There’s bacon frying in the skillet. Pray, see that it doesn’t burn.”
Rachel nodded. She was staring at him again, wondering how it was she’d never noticed how handsome he was. He’d tied back his hair with a bit of leather and between that and the missing whiskers she could actually see his face for the first time. The wide forehead. The straight blade of nose and the full sensual lips. Combined with the startling green eyes that she’d always thought attractive, he was really very appealing to look upon.
Not like the gentlemen at court Rachel assured herself quickly as she turned and hurried into the cabin. With their silk waistcoats and powdered wigs, they were by far the better looking. Yet she couldn’t keep from peeking around the door as she went to close it.
He was going to chop more wood. He always took his shirt off to do that. Such a ghastly uncivilized habit, Rachel told herself as she lingered in the doorway. Who wanted to look on a man’s bare chest and muscled back? He yanked the linen over his head and Rachel bit her bottom lip. She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry.
He hefted the axe and sent it forging down, cleaving the block of wood and Rachel’s fingers tightened on the door. He really did have a very appealing body. She’d long suspected Prince William of using pads under his clothes and stockings to enhance his appearance. It was obvious Logan MacQuaid would not have to resort to such practices.
Rachel wasn’t certain how long she watched him at his task. Every time two chunks of wood split from one she told herself she didn’t care what he looked like. She was sent to save him and the sooner she could accomplish that, the sooner she could return to her real life. But she still stayed to let out her breath when his arms lifted high over his head.
It wasn’t till she saw him pause, the axe poised in midair, that she noticed the smell. Unfortunately, that seemed to be what caused him to stop also. He twisted around, his eyes meeting hers for an instant before she squealed and slammed the door.
The bacon was ruined, burned to a crisp.
Chapter Six
“Every living thing in this world is put in the charge of an angel.”
— Saint Augustine
Eight Questions
“When are we leaving for the Cherokee town, Cheoah is it?”
“Soon.”
“Yes, but when? Would you look at me please when I speak to you.”
There it was again, that haughty tone, and Logan knew what her expression would be—a sharp-eyed stare down the length of her delicate nose—before he glanced up. And he lifted his head with reluctance. Not only did he tire of her orders and wish to show her he would tolerate them no more, but he
“Have a care for the milk you’re spilling Your Highness.”
Rachel righted the pail, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “You look... different.”
He seemed not to understand her statement for a moment, then grinned rather self-deprecatingly. That’s when she first noticed his dimples. Two of them on either side of his mouth. At first they seemed out of place on such a solemn man. But the more she looked, the more taken she was by this new discovery. He was far more handsome than she’d originally thought. His beauty was as rugged as the land.
“I thought it best to rid myself of the beard before the ceremony of Ah,tawh,hung,nah .”
“Oh.” Hardly a witty comment, but Rachel couldn’t think of a thing to say. It occurred to her that she was staring rather unabashedly and quickly averted her eyes. “I’ve milked Mistress Ellen,” she said for lack of anything better to say.
He arched a brow but made no comment about her naming his cow. He did step forward looking at the pail with some interest. Rachel thought him about to chastise her for spilling so much but instead appeared pleasantly surprised. “I see the cow tried a bit harder today.”
“What? Oh, yes.”
“I started supper. There’s bacon frying in the skillet. Pray, see that it doesn’t burn.”
Rachel nodded. She was staring at him again, wondering how it was she’d never noticed how handsome he was. He’d tied back his hair with a bit of leather and between that and the missing whiskers she could actually see his face for the first time. The wide forehead. The straight blade of nose and the full sensual lips. Combined with the startling green eyes that she’d always thought attractive, he was really very appealing to look upon.
Not like the gentlemen at court Rachel assured herself quickly as she turned and hurried into the cabin. With their silk waistcoats and powdered wigs, they were by far the better looking. Yet she couldn’t keep from peeking around the door as she went to close it.
He was going to chop more wood. He always took his shirt off to do that. Such a ghastly uncivilized habit, Rachel told herself as she lingered in the doorway. Who wanted to look on a man’s bare chest and muscled back? He yanked the linen over his head and Rachel bit her bottom lip. She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry.
He hefted the axe and sent it forging down, cleaving the block of wood and Rachel’s fingers tightened on the door. He really did have a very appealing body. She’d long suspected Prince William of using pads under his clothes and stockings to enhance his appearance. It was obvious Logan MacQuaid would not have to resort to such practices.
Rachel wasn’t certain how long she watched him at his task. Every time two chunks of wood split from one she told herself she didn’t care what he looked like. She was sent to save him and the sooner she could accomplish that, the sooner she could return to her real life. But she still stayed to let out her breath when his arms lifted high over his head.
It wasn’t till she saw him pause, the axe poised in midair, that she noticed the smell. Unfortunately, that seemed to be what caused him to stop also. He twisted around, his eyes meeting hers for an instant before she squealed and slammed the door.
The bacon was ruined, burned to a crisp.
Chapter Six
“Every living thing in this world is put in the charge of an angel.”
— Saint Augustine
Eight Questions
“When are we leaving for the Cherokee town, Cheoah is it?”
“Soon.”
“Yes, but when? Would you look at me please when I speak to you.”
There it was again, that haughty tone, and Logan knew what her expression would be—a sharp-eyed stare down the length of her delicate nose—before he glanced up. And he lifted his head with reluctance. Not only did he tire of her orders and wish to show her he would tolerate them no more, but he
Similar Books
