Page 39 of A Sinful Night with a Scot
I should smash this stone intae the hearth after what I have been put through.
Watching her with bated breath as she had taken it from the councilman, time had seemed to move unnaturally slowly. Waiting. Watching. Worrying. It wasn’t just the effort he had put into carefully carving her name. It was the fact that he had carved her name at all.
Alisdair was not surprised earlier when he had confessed how he was beginning to feel about her, but afterward, when he had admitted he was afraid, his closest companion had leaned forward and looked in his eyes and had had the nerve to suggest that Keane might feel something akin to love.
He did not, of course. And so, he had denied it again. However, afterward, as he readied himself for the feast, he wondered if it could be true. Surely not.
One cannae fall in love with another over a period o’ three days.
Ye were watching her fer weeks.
I am attracted tae her, certainly. She arouses me, as she might any other man, with her stunning beauty. But love? Nay.
She had certainly aroused him the second he had walked into her bedchamber, but as he stood at the hearth, waiting to see what she would do, the stone held in her hands, Keane had felt something far deeper. Something he couldn’t explain, and, at the time, he had been too busy panicking to examine it.
Alisdair had said it was kind of him to carve Elsie’s name on the stone, but it had been more for him than kindness, and only in that heart stopping moment, did he realize how much more. And when relief had flooded through him when she placed the stone on the hearth, the bubbling fire in his stomach he had been suppressing for three days, had finally overtook him and he had kissed her. A breathtaking, tender kiss that sent heat rushing through his veins.
Since then, his eyes had hardly left from gazing at her, turning away only to speak to Alisdair or Michael as they conversed. Elsie flitted soft glances his way, the blush dancing on her cheeks, gripping him on each occasion she noted that he had not yet turned his eyes away.
At one point, she had leaned toward him, the corner of her mouth dancing as her eyes sparkled.
“Ye ken, there are many other people in this room.”
Keane moved his mouth close to her ear, his lips brushing her skin when his voice rumbled from his throat. “Aye, but I dinnae want any one o’ them the way I want ye.”
He watched her skin pebble, and the pulse in her slender throat quicken. Her swift intake of breath was like music to his ears as he pulled away from her with a satisfied smirk.
Later, he led her from the high table, toward the middle of the room, where others were already gleefully dancing and enjoying the celebrations. Slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her in close, his eyes fixed on hers, his lips curled as he said, “I dinnae imagine ye can move too much in such a dress.”
Elsie jutted out her chin, taking his words as a challenge. “Try me,” she replied.
Her response delighted Keane, and he beamed down at her. “Very well.” And hearing her delighted gasp as he swiftly spun her around the floor, his heart pounded as light laughter trickled from her lips.
Ye cannae fall in love with this lass.
But while his mind battled for his sanity, his heart seemed to have other ideas, for it thumped in his chest as he twirled her around the room, her skin glowing and her eyes soft and sparkling with unspoken laughter. At one point, eliciting asqueal of delight from her throat, he lifted her completely off her feet, like he was lifting air itself.
Whether he wanted to admit it or not, whatever was happening between them felt magical, just like it had earlier in the cave at the waterfall. He had denied that feeling at the time, pushing it down, not wanting to allow it to overcome him. Now, however, he felt powerless to stop it.
The music slowed as the dance came to an end, and tenderly, he lowered her again until her feet were once more on the stone floor beneath them. When they finally came to a stop, he grinned down at her. “Told ye, ye wouldnae be able tae move in that dress.”
Breathlessly, she gazed up at him with her lips parted. Her tongue slipped out and swiped across the bottom lip, and Keane shuddered, his eyes pinned there, his groin aching at such a simple gesture.
Her eyes widened in surprise at his reaction. “What is it?”
His brows hitched on his forehead as he regarded her, and then, he realized.
She’s so innocent, she daesnae even ken what she’s doing.
Somehow, that aroused him even more, and slowly shaking his head, but not moving his attention from her lips, he breathed. “Naething.”
They were on the way back to the table when Kenna, his mistress, sauntered in their direction. She was a pretty woman, her oval face defined by a jutting jaw line and high cheekbones, with full lips that had explored his body many times. The blonde braid hung sexily over one shoulder, draping over her full and pert breasts, the soft skin of which glistened and bounced as she moved.
Keane immediately glanced back to Elsie to see if she had noticed, but it was too late. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth had fallen open, clearly shocked at Kenna’s brazen approach.
“Me laird,” Kenna purred, her eyes glancing over Keane’s shoulder at Elsie, who remained a step behind him. “Perhaps ye will need a late supper tonight.”
“At least ye can wait fer his wife tae leave the room before making proposals, lass,” Elsie said calmly, stepping forward and standing at Keane’s side, but he could see her face reddening with anger.
