Love in the Mist (MacKay's) by S.R. Roddy Page A

sun kissed skin as he battled his opponent in a mock battle. The sweat
dripping down his chest and arms glistened in the early morning light. He was
breath taking to watch. Each swing like a dance performed so often it had
become second nature. His green eyes sparkled with pure pleasure. After over an
hour of mock battling he was barely breathing heavy.
    Most of the
men in the yard were all yummy to look at, but there was something special
about this man. The bonnet he wore on his head at a jaunty angle with the clan
badge proclaimed him chieftain, but it was more than that. He had his people’s
respect that was for sure. Then there were the children and animals that
followed him around at any given time. He was never cruel and always managed to
find time to stop and talk to each person. Every afternoon he took the time to
play with the children for an hour or so after the noon meal. Despite his groans
of protest each time the children asked him to play, she could tell that he
enjoyed it immensely.
    She even knew
his name. The many girls from the village whispered it often enough as they
watched from the shadows. Tavish… Tavish MacKay was the name she too whispered,
but only in her dreams each night. She had been watching him for months and, as
foolish as she knew it was, she had fallen in love with him.
    She could
still remember vividly the first time she had seen him. He had been walking
bold as you please through the mist shrouded forest with his sword slung across
his back and his bonnet sitting at a jaunty angle, as usual, on his head. He
had worn a braid at the side of his head, his black curls bouncing against his
neck. She had been so enthralled by the picture he made it took several minutes
to realize she was following him with more than her eyes. It wasn’t until they
had come to a clearing that she became aware of what she had done, skulking in
the shadows like some peeping tom.
    Before she
could turn and go back the way she had come he had loosened the belt holding
his kilt around his waist allowing it to drop to the ground. For precious
moments she could only stand and stare at the heaping pile of wool on the
ground not wanting to believe he had just underdressed himself in the forest.
Half afraid to look up and take a glimpse of what had been hidden under the
mass of wool. By the time her curiosity had won out over her sense of propriety
and she dared to take a look at him she felt a small twinge of disappointment.
    She had waited
too long, he was already waist deep in a small outcropping of the river his
hair wet with droplets of water streaming down his back. As she watched, his
sleek back muscles rippled with each movement he made. He had broad shoulders
and burly arms made for wielding a sword. She had noticed his left upper arm
was encircled by what looked like a tattoo, its intricate knots colored in blue
ink. When he leaned over reaching into the waters depths, she managed a quick
glimpse of a very firm butt a touch whiter than the rest of his body, before he
righted himself once more. Slightly disappointed as she felt the first
stirrings of wakefulness intrude on her dream world. Her last image of him
before waking was of a startled look over his shoulder, like he had heard
something, but the mist engulfed him completely before she could see more.
    She heard the
women grumbling under their breaths causing her to look up once more. Tavish’s
mock battle was over and he had obviously poured cold water over his sweaty
body to cool off. The light from the sun reflected off each droplet as she
followed its path down his luscious body. She had a very strong desire to brazenly
walk up to him and explore along his torso with the tip of her tongue, licking
along the same path as the droplets of water had taken.
    A flash of red
caught her eye forcing her attention away from the man she longed for. Her
blood began to boil as she watched the hated woman with raven locks dance up
beside Tavish. Boldly running her