"Yer skin is sae fine I can see the bluid movin’ beneath it," Jamie remarked, tracing the path of a sunbeam across her bare stomach. "I can almost see the life pulsatin’ beneath it, the very essence o’ ye. It’s as if I could trace the veins frae yer haun a’ the way tae yer hert." His touch was gentle, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake as his finger moved along her wrist, up her arm, and across the curve of her collarbone.