A large, red-haired man came out of the barn door, a plank of wood resting easily on his shoulder. He paused when he saw Kat, his craggy face softening slightly. “There ye be! Annie has been lookin’ all over fer ye.”

Kat grinned at Simon as she kicked her foot out of the stirrup and stepped down. “What does she want?”

Simon lowered his brow. “I don’t know, but she has some of her bosom friends with her. Last I heard, they were talkin’ aboot the new guest at the castle.”

Kat undid Merriweather’s saddle, hefting it off the mare’s back and onto the fence rail. “I met him this morning.”

“Did ye now? What do ye have to say aboot him?”

Kat had an instant image of mischievous blue eyes fringed in thick black lashes, her body tingling at the memory of strong hands moving sinuously over her body. She forced a casual shrug. “I don’t have much to say at all.” Not to Simon, anyway.

Why had she been so slow to react when the stranger had kissed her? None of Malcolm’s other houseguests had managed to weasel a kiss out of her. But this guest…Kat had to smile a little. Whatever the reason, she wasn’t really sorry it had happened. It was a lovely, warm memory, and as long as it went no further, there was no harm. No harm at all.

Besides, the man had been damned good at what he was about. The thought made her grin even more.

Simon’s gaze narrowed. He set the wood against the fence. “Out with it, lass. What has ye smilin’ so big?”

Kat’s cheeks heated. “Nothing. I was just thinking about—” Good Lord what did she say now? “Things,” she finished weakly. Things like strong, well-defined hands that could cup one ever so intimately and make one’s stomach tighten with need. Things like a pair of firm, warm lips that knew all too well how to send one’s thoughts to places they were better not going.

“Hmph,” Simon said, eyeing her up and down as she rubbed down Merriweather and then led the mare into the coolness of the barn. Simon followed along, his gaze never leaving her. “Whatever ye’re thinkin’ aboot, ’tis makin’ yer cheeks turn red.”

Kat wisely ignored him. Though he was a scant two years older than she, she thought of Simon as a father. Certainly he’d been more involved in her life than her own father had been.

“I’m fine, Simon. Just a bit heated from the ride back.” Kat closed the stall door on Merriweather, and then left the barn. “Where is Annie?”

Simon followed her outside. “She’s in the kitchen with Fat Mary.”

Kat curled her nose.

Simon nodded morosely. “That’s what I thought, too. Fat Mary does nothin’ but spread rumors, night ’n’ day. I don’t know why Annie puts up wid it.”