Page 122 of The Highlander Who Loved Me
Laurel’s forehead puckered into a little bridge. “What sort of trouble?”
Serena shot him a glare. “He’s being a silly goose.” She offered Laurel a conspirator’s smile. “Let’s have some fun, shall we? I’m looking to spot the hat with the largest, most outrageous feather, an utterly ridiculous plume. I’ll wager I find it before ye do.”
A grin lit Laurel’s features as she pointed in the direction of an enormous white flounce topping a matron’s magenta hat. “That feather is bigger than her head. You won’t find a larger one.”
“Ah, I do love a challenge.” Serena nudged her brother with her finger. “Off with ye both now. The lass and I are having a grand time, aren’t we now?”
Laurel nodded, still smiling as she scanned the large room.
Connor turned to Johanna. “Well, lass, may I have a moment of yer time?” Odd, how the cockiness seemed to have been stripped from his subtle burr.
“Laurel will be fine,” Serena encouraged Johanna. “We’ve many more feathers to spot.”
In truth, Johanna felt no reluctance to leave the girl in the Scotswoman’s care. Rather, she guarded herself against her own traitorous heart’s response to the brash Highlander. “I must admit you’ve stirred my curiosity. I can only hope there’s not another adventure in the works.”
“An adventure it just might be.” A teasing lilt colored Serena’s tone. “Ye cannae deny a man on his birthday now, can ye, Johanna?”
“No, of course not.” Johanna forced out the words.
His fingers lightly grazed her arm. As they left the table, he drew her close. Scandalously so.
“Oh, how the tongues will wag,” she said with a forced nonchalance.
“By tomorrow night, London will be naught but a memory. Ye’ve no worries of scandal.”
“Still…gossip can cross the ocean with remarkable speed. Of that, I assure you.”
“Why does that concern ye?” He led her to an alcove near the courtyard. “Is it for yer sake, or the girl’s?”
“Both, I suppose.” She glanced about. He’d selected a location secluded from prying eyes and ears. Perhaps she hadn’t learned much from their previous encounters. Or perhaps, she truly didn’t want to consider anything beyond the yearnings of her heart.
“I’ve missed ye, Johanna.” He cradled her cheek against one broad palm. “More than ye know.”
Blast it all, she wasn’t about to be swept up into his seduction. Did he think he’d help himself to a final taste of her passion before she sailed away?
She gave an exaggerated huff. “Given there has been no correspondence of any sort between us, that revelation is indeed surprising.”
“I’ve no talent for sweet sentiments and poetic gibberish.” He drew the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. Dear Lord, how the simple touch rippled through her.
“Thatis readily apparent. Perhaps you might tell me something I don’t already know.”
One dark brow crooked. “And what might that be?”
“Why are you here?”
“I had to see ye, Johanna. I’ve missed the sight of ye. The feel of ye.” Once again, he brushed his thumb over her mouth. His eyes glimmered dangerously. “Even the smell of yer hair…is embedded in my memory.”
Her mouth went dry, and she struggled to find words. If only he’d stop looking at her like that. Like he desired her. Right there and then.
“Even if I wanted you…there’s no point.” She swallowed hard against the bitterness of the words. “Not now.”
To her surprise, arrogance danced in his eyes. “There’s noifto it. Ye do want me. Ye cannae deny the truth.”
Damn the man, strutting into London like a rooster out to conquer the last hen in the coop.
“I left you behind in Scotland. That’s proof enough of my ability to resist your…charms…for lack of a better word.”
“I should’ve made ye stay.”
