Page 34 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander
Brodrick narrowed his eyes at her. “Apologies?”
“I should not have let that happen.”
“Ava,” Brodrick called, a hint of confusion lacing his voice.
“I shall head to my room. Please tell Flora that I will not be able to go back down to finish my dinner.”
“Woman, what are ye talkin’ about?”
“Give her my apologies as well,” Ava continued, almost like she hadn’t heard a word he said.
“Ava,” Brodrick called again, the worry in his voice growing by the second.
Ava nodded and turned around, her head hanging low as she approached the door. How had she let this happen? Why did she let herself become so vulnerable? Beforehim.
As she grabbed the door handle, a frown creased her brow. This was never going to happen again. She was going to make certain of that.
* * *
“Ava, lass,” Brodrick called, watching her close the door behind her, his eyebrows knitted together.
His heart rate slowed as he leaned back against his desk. His once pristine shirt was wrinkled now, and he could feel his manhood still straining against his trousers.
Several questions crossed his mind as he started to wonder what could possibly have come over Ava.
What happened? One minute they were both deep into the kiss—it had been a rather intense and magnificent experience for them both, he was quite certain of that—the next she stopped and decided so suddenly that it had been a giant mistake.
He remained by the desk, the puzzling thoughts bouncing around in his mind as the fire crackled in the hearth just a few feet away from him. As he made up his mind to straighten and leave his study, the door creaked open again.
“Ava?” he called, a strange hope rising in his chest.
But that hope was instantly dashed when the door fully opened and Flora walked in.
“She’s nae here?” she asked, looking around, a worried expression on her face.
Brodrick shook his head.
“Why? I thought she would be here. I want her to come put Margaret to bed.”
“Go to her room. She’ll be there.”
A tense silence descended between them for the better half of a minute. Brodrick could feel his little sister’s scrutinizing gaze on him. He could even feel her judgment and the words she wanted to say.
“I said, go to her room,” he ordered.
“Ye clump!” she muttered. “What did ye say to the poor lass?”
“Me?”
“Aye! Ye!”
“Why would ye assume it was me fault?”
“Because I ken ye, Braither. Now, tell me, what exactly did ye say to that woman, so I can go and apologize to her properly?”
“I didnae say anything.”
“Brodrick.”
