Surviving Scotland Read Online Free

my room, it could belong to whoever was walking this way. I thought of hiding. A glance around the room provided no help unless I wanted to throw myself into the wardrobe, but what if a man walked in and began undressing, only to find me rather than his clothes? My hands began to sweat and I glanced to the door as the footsteps came to a halt. The large wooden door prevented me from seeing who stood at the threshold, but only for a moment. Ioan walked through after only a moment’s pause and to my horror, pulled off his shirt. I gasped at the sight of his bare flesh. Ioan’s movements froze, and I saw his green eyes lock with mine as he dropped the shirt onto the floor in a wet heap.
    “Are ye lost, lass? What are ye doin’ here in my chamber?”
    The sight of his bare skin caused my own skin to tingle with an awareness I hadn’t ever experienced. His chest was chiseled with hard planes of muscle that flexed as he made fists with his hands. The chill that had nearly overtaken me earlier became a furious heat that fueled a blush.
    “Really, lass, it’s no’ like ye have never seen me shirtless afore. I’ve no’ changed that much… have I?” Ioan raised his eyebrow at my obvious study of his bare chest. I stammered then cleared my throat.
    “I was, er, l-lighting your fire.”
    Both eyebrows shot up at my words and a wicked gleam spread through his eyes. I wondered why my innocent words had caused such a reaction.
    “Elle, I don’t think yer uncle would approve o’ such a… task.” He grinned at me and picked up his shirt, covering himself once more.
    I needed to gather my thoughts, but how did a lady do that when distracted by a half-naked man? “I’ll leave you then.” I nodded, my face still warm from my earlier embarrassment.
    Ioan let me pass without a word and I walked down the hall, giving the doors dubious glances. What now? With my luck, history would repeat itself, only this time I’d be seeing an old man undressing. I shuddered at the thought. Just as I was walking up to another door to knock, Ioan’s hand grasped my arm and pulled me in the opposite direction.
    “I’m startin’ to believe ye truly did fall on yer head! Get to yer room and change, lass. Ye’ll catch yer death, ye will.”
    His hand was gentle on my arm, but he pulled me with enough force to cause me to trip a few times before we reached the last door in the hallway.
    “Here ye go. I’m sure yer Morag will be up shortly to see ye.”
    He opened the door, gesturing for me to enter. His expression was impatient, so I mumbled a “thank you” and rushed in, closing the door behind me. I slid down the door and landed in a gentle heap on the floor. I should have braved the kidnappers.
    The room was very similar to Ioan’s but with more of a feminine touch. The bed, wardrobe, and side table were all in the same place, but a faint scent of lavender was in the air. A fire crackled and popped in the hearth, and another table stood next to it with a brush and few glass bottles sitting on top.
    The room was warmer than the hallway, and I rushed to the fire, holding out my shaking hands. A moment later I took a step back and began to take off the soaked dress and plaid I still had draped around me. They landed with a soggy thump on the floor, and I removed my stays next. With a trembling shiver that made it difficult to walk, I searched for a dry garment. I found a light shift and pulled it over my body, not caring that I wasn’t properly corseted. I was too cold to care. I grabbed a woolen blanket from the bed, wrapped it around my shoulders, and hovered next to the fire once more. As I began to warm, I reached up and pulled out my braid, loosening the locks so that they would dry. A twig was twisted in my hair and I removed it, tossing into the fire. It hissed as it sizzled then caught fire. On the floor below me, my wet hair left a small puddle. The usually golden locks hung dark against the woolen blanket, and I sniffed as my