As he frowned at that thought, the door he had been glaring at suddenly opened and the focus of his thoughts stepped out and hurried toward the stairs. Stiffening, Duncan watched blankly as she hurried out of sight, then he dropped the plank of wood he had been holding and started after her.

Elgin wasn’t in the kitchens. Iliana paused in the center of the room and peered at the empty tables and the fire where workers would normally be busy preparing the evening meal, perplexed. The kitchen was rarely empty. There was usually at least one person there, cleaning vegetables or performing some other such chore, but just now that was not the case.

She had just turned back toward the door, intent on seeking out Elgin or someone who could find him for her, when the door swung open and Duncan strode in. Iliana froze where she stood, her eyes widening at the sight of him. It was obvious he had been working. His usual linen shirt was missing, his upper body bare but for various streaks of dirt among the sweat that glistened there, leaving him with only his plaid hanging about his waist.

The sight of him brought vivid memories back to Iliana, coloring her cheeks with a heat that was reflected in her eyes as he moved toward her. His purposeful stride as he closed the distance between them told her that he had followed her here, and not with the intention of asking how her mother was. Then all thought fled Iliana’s mind and she stepped forward to meet him as he reached for her.

He kissed her with a passion that left her breathless and wanting. When he released her lips and his mouth began roaming down her cheek, to her neck, she gasped and released a moan that quickly turned into a groan of dismay. Iliana began struggling in his arms.

Her sudden struggling was enough to bring Duncan back to his senses. They were standing in the kitchen, for God’s sake, and here he was, intent on ravishing her right there on the floor where anyone might walk in and find them. Cursing, he scooped her up and hurried to the locked storage closet where the spices and more expensive cooking items were kept. Pausing there, he set his wife down and slipped the ring of keys that his father’d had made for her from her waist.

“What do you do?” Iliana asked with bewilderment as he began searching through her keys.

“Shh, sweetling, all will be well,” he muttered, pausing in his search for the key as he came across one oddly shaped one. Bewilderment crossed his face briefly; then he shrugged and continued through the ring until he came to the one he sought. Finding it, he quickly unlocked the storage door and pushed it open, then grabbed his wife’s wrist and hurried through it.