“Lachlan bent forward, hands on his knees, sides heaving. His plaid, which was looped over one shoulder, slipped down. Amber couldn’t stop her gaze from poring over him, taking in every indent of his ribs, the banding of the muscles that attached to his spine. “Amber, stop it,” he said. “I can barely walk as it is.” She jumped guiltily and turned her head. “Surely, I doona know what you mean.”
