RETH
The look on her face set his teeth—like a cub that had lost its pride and saw its own death in the winds. Which, in a way, he supposed was true. She'd unbuttoned three buttons on the silky shirt she wore before she looked up and met his eyes.
His eyes widened and he turned quickly back to the closet. "Apologies."
She gave a little huff that was laced with humor and he grinned, though he prayed she couldn't tell. The sound of her clothing combined with the smell of her soon worked on his body—already taut with the tensions of the night, and knowing what was to come. As he pulled his kilt out of the closet and began to wrap it around his waist, he spoke more to cover the sounds of her, than because he needed to say it.
