“Ho now,” Joshua said, pressing the uncorked flask into her hand. “Cain was checking on that new foal of yours, and Viola Finley caught him there on his way out. She is always up for a bit of fun, especially on Midsummer’s Night. But she looks to be pouring on the sweetness with her bodice lower than is proper.” He nodded, his brows raised like he was astonished, but then he smiled wickedly. “I would tup her myself tonight, but it seems she has her sights set on the new chief.”

Ella’s fingers curled into the bladder that Joshua had handed her. She’d never cared about trying to garner or keep a man’s attention before, preferring to avoid them all. But the sight of a woman rubbing her breasts across Cain’s arm ignited a tempest inside her.

She took a swig from the bladder, the smooth whisky weaving a path of fire down her throat. Her face pinched at the strong brew, and she wiped a hand over her lips, handing the flask back to Joshua. “I have no say over what Cain does with anyone.”

Joshua took a swig, too, smiling like a drunken fool. “Just looking out for my soon-to-be sister. If Viola ends up sharing his bed tonight and all winter, ye will lose any influence over my brother.”

Ella turned to the cocky arse. “You think I should use my body to control Cain?”

Both of his eyes opened wide, and he placed a hand at his heart. “Did ye not know? A man’s mind is often controlled by his cock, dear sister. Control Cain’s and ye may control him. Let Viola take hold of it, and she will never let go.”

Joshua was crass, but as she looked back toward Cain with Viola draped over him, the woman’s knee rising to stroke him through his kilt, Ella glared. What if Cain decided not to wed her? What would that mean for her clan if she had no influence over him at all?

Ella stood, striding away from the fire.

“Claws out,” Joshua called. “He likes claws. We all do.” He laughed.

She headed straight toward the situation that, left unchecked, could ruin whatever plans she decided to execute. Laughter and shadows blended the rest of the world away, and the soft tread of her boots over the battered grass was soon eclipsed by the rush of blood in her ears.

“Come now, Cain, just a Midsummer’s Night kiss,” the woman said, her voice like the purr of a contented puss. “Maybe a quick ride inside the barn to relieve some of this tension I feel in ye.” Her hands rubbed along his shoulders, sliding down his tunic-covered biceps. Keeping her elbows in to her sides, her bosom rose up high before him like two puddings on a platter.

“Step away.” Ella halted several yards back.