Temptation in a Kilt by Victoria Roberts

wound me, lass. Try to sleep. We will ride soon enough.”
    Rosalia must have fallen asleep because the next she knew, the men were stirring. She sat up slowly, and Seumas pointed to her trews and tunic. “Your clothes are dry. As soon as we pack up, we will take our leave and ye can dress.”
    “Aye. Calum. How is your head?” she asked with concern.
    He shrugged. “Stiff, but I will be home this day, which makes it feel that much better.”
    “I am sure,” she agreed. Seumas and Calum took their leave, and she packed up her blankets. Rummaging through her sack, Rosalia spotted the day dress. She pulled it out and sighed—how truly embarrassing. Without giving it additional thought, she tossed it into the ashes of the fire. “I hope ye burn and rot,” she said through gritted teeth.
    A deep chuckle answered her. She turned around to see Ciaran leaning in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest. “Ye arenae bringing the dress with ye to Glenorchy then?” he asked in his casual, jesting way.
    She blushed and knew he teased her affectionately, not maliciously. His playful bantering amused her. “That would be a fair assumption, my laird. I am ready to wipe my hands of yestereve. This day will be much better. Ye are going home.”
    “Aye. There is that. Are ye going to don some trews, or will ye ride to Glenorchy with a bare bottom, lass?” Ciaran’s eyes roamed over her figure.
    At least her bare bottom was covered by his tunic. She shooed him out the door. “Will ye please take your leave so that I may dress?”
    “Aye. Make haste. We are only half a day’s ride from Glenorchy,” he exclaimed with excitement.
    She nodded and shut the door. Once they reached Glenorchy, she would breathe a sigh of relief. Thinking of James for a moment, she said a silent prayer that he was well. He had to be. Rosalia opened the door and saw the men already gathered around the horses and ready to depart. She approached Noonie and fastened her sack as quickly as she could. She would try to make haste so she did not hold them back any longer than necessary.
    “Ye didnae eat last eve. I assume ye are hungry. Can ye eat and ride?” As she turned, Ciaran held out an oatcake.
    “Aye. My thanks.”
    He raised his brow and gave her a challenging look.
    Waving him off, she rolled her eyes. “Get used to it, MacGregor.”
    Turning away from her, Ciaran grabbed the reins of his mount. “Saucy wench.” He spoke under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear.
    They continued to ride north to Glenorchy. At least they were through the death-dropping passes. The leaves on the trees were bathed in colors of golden hues, and a warm breeze brushed her cut tresses. It felt delightful after riding in the pouring rain. She turned Noonie and loved the sound of his shuffling feet through the freshly fallen leaves. It was so quiet and peaceful. For once in her life, she felt everything would be all right.
    They approached a clearing and Rosalia stopped. Never had she seen anything so beautiful. A flowing river with rushing water cascaded through jagged rocks. The smell of pine overwhelmed her senses. She took a deep, penetrating breath and closed her eyes. To her left, pine trees clustered along the river. There was a clear path along the water that led into trees the color of honey and bronze. To her right, the clearing was much more open. Pines gathered in sections, but she did not see a path. The water soothed her mood.
    Ciaran rode up beside her. “Rosalia?”
    “’Tis just a beautiful sight. Truly, it takes my breath.” She sighed, glancing from side to side.
    He chuckled. “If ye like the view here, wait until ye see my home.”
    The sound of thundering hoofbeats caught her attention and she gasped. At least five men were riding toward them at breakneck speed with swords drawn.
    “ Cruachan !” they bellowed.
    Rosalia whipped her head to Ciaran for direction, and nothing but hatred played upon his features. In fact, it was the