Chapter 9

 

“Brody,” Elspeth squeaked, doing nothing to stop him from hauling her into the morning room to the left of the magnificent carved oak staircase. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Whisht, lassie,” he whispered. “We’ve only got a minute. If you’re late upstairs, people will want to ken why.”

When she shivered, she wasn’t sure whether it was from cold or excitement. Through the fine silk of her dress, his grip on her waist was warm and possessive. The morning room, on the other hand, wasn’t. The fire was only lit in here during the day.

“I want to know why, too,” she said, although she kept her voice to a murmur.

He held up a sprig of something green and waved it in front of her nose. “I want to test out Ugolino’s magic plant.”

This time the shiver was definitely a thrill. A handsome laird bustled her away to steal a kiss. What a perfect end to an evening where nobody had even thought to call her a mouse. “You want to kiss me?”

“I do indeed.” She caught the flash of a reckless smile, before he pushed the door shut and trapped her in darkness vibrant with anticipation. In the closed room, the scent of pine from the Christmas greenery around the walls was heady enough to make her dizzy.

Or perhaps the pine branches had nothing at all to do with her giddiness.

“I’ve never been kissed,” she said softly.

His groan came from somewhere above her. He’d moved closer. Her eyes slowly adjusted, and she made out the shape of his tall, lean body against the black. “Dinnae say things like that. What about all those kisses under the mistletoe ye told me about?”

“I was about six. I don’t think they count.” She paused. “I suppose you think it’s shocking that I’ve never kissed a man the way a woman does.”

“No, not shocking, arousing.” When he shaped his hands around her face, the air jammed in her throat. “And cruel when I only have ye to myself for a minute or two.”

The hands cradling her face were unsteady, and he was close enough for her to hear the erratic rhythm of his breath. In her wildest dreams, she’d never imagined Brody Girvan saying such things or shaking with need for her.

The Brody of her girlish fantasies had been a poor-spirited creature, who spouted bad poetry and begged for the privilege of holding her hand. The real version was much more dynamic and enthralling. It was a good thing she didn’t love him anymore, or she’d be quite beside herself and likely to do something stupid.

“You’d better make the most of the opportunity,” she was startled to hear herself say. The old Elspeth would never have found the nerve to encourage a young man’s attentions. It seemed changing her hair and clothes had changed a few other things as well.

And about time, too.

“Ye don’t have to ask twice, my bonny.” With a husky laugh, he tilted her face up and brushed his lips across hers.

Her first kiss. And from a beautiful man like Brody. How utterly…marvelous. A tingling thrill rippled through her, tightening her skin and making her toes curl in their blue satin slippers. She twined her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in the silky hair at the base of his skull.

Another touch of his lips drew a yearning whimper from her, and she stretched up to get closer. This time, he lingered over the kiss, flicking his tongue along the seam of her lips.

She was trembling, and her knees felt likely to collapse. Had she said she was cold? She doubted she’d ever be cold again. Delicious heat licked along her veins and made her feel strange and wonderful. And powerful.

Brody released her face and lashed his arms around her, dragging her into his body. The kiss became more intent, and instinctively she parted her lips, seeking more of his taste. He gave a deep growl of satisfaction, and his tongue slipped through to dance against hers.

How bizarre. Elspeth made a muffled protest and stiffened, while the waves of tremulous pleasure washing through her turned to throbbing need.

He raised his head, and when he spoke, his breath was warm on her face. She caught the smoky honey tinge of Fergus’s whisky, the same flavor she’d tasted on Brody’s lips. “This is torture. I want to keep ye here forever.”

She’d started to yearn up toward him again, before she realized what he’d said.

“I can’t stay.” She didn’t try to hide her regret.

“I know.” He sounded no happier than she did. “But there’s always tomorrow.”

Distantly she heard the clock in the hall strike two, followed a few seconds later by the delicate tinkle of the ormolu clock on the mantelpiece in this room. “Today.”

“Even better.” The thicker brogue told her he was smiling. “But I still dinnae want to let ye go.”

Despite her innocence, despite his expressed good intentions, she knew that with one word’s encouragement, he’d have her flat on her back on the chaise longue. Difficult as it was to remember when she quivered in his arms, she’d kissed Brody as an experiment, not as part of a life-changing commitment.

“You must.” Daringly she rose on her toes and kissed him briefly on the lips. Then she slid her arms free and turned to crack open the door.

“Is it safe for us to go?” he murmured, trailing swift kisses along her nape. Lightning bolts of sensation sizzled through her, and her breath caught on a stifled moan. Who knew her neck was such a sensitive area?

“Yes…” She paused, then pushed the door forward until only a sliver of light shone through. “No.”

“Are ye truly at peace with your father’s choice, mo chridhe?” Fergus’s deep voice was clearly audible from the hall outside.

“Si, certo,” Marina said. She and her husband were standing at the base of the staircase, by the sound of it. “It was a surprise, of course. Giulia seems a good woman, and there’s no doubt that they love one another.”

“Aye, he’s smitten, all right. But ye and Ugolino were alone together as a family for a long time. This woman is stepping into your mother’s place.”

“Caro, you’re sweet to worry about me.”

“Of course I worry about you, ye mutton-headed lassie. I love you.”

“And I love you, Mackinnon.”

There was a pause, when Elspeth guessed that the couple kissed. It was a private moment. She shifted uncomfortably and felt Brody’s arm slide around her waist. He bent to nibble another line of kisses across the back of her neck, and she bit back a gasp as a wealth of nerve-endings stirred into charged life. Her nipples hardened against the soft lawn of her shift, and the secret places in her body softened and turned liquid.

“Stop it,” she said on a breath.

As she should have expected, that provoked another kiss, this time under her hairline. Her knees wobbled, and she sagged, grateful that his powerful arm held her upright. It would be humiliating to crumple into a heap of feminine enjoyment at his feet.

“He could have broken the news better,” Fergus said with a hint of grimness.

“Knowing Papa, he hoped to avoid a scene by presenting us with a fait accompli. Anyway, he did give me some warning. Before we married, he told me that he was going back to Florence to find a nice, comfortable widow. I’d been too selfish to see that he was lonely, traveling around with just me for company.”

“Och, you have such a generous heart, Marina. You put me to shame.”

“Cielo, come upstairs with me now, and if you’re good, I’ll show you just how generous I am, my fine Highland laird.”

He laughed softly. “I’m always good, mo leannan. Haven’t ye worked that out yet?”

“Oh, so arrogant!” Their voices faded as they climbed the steps. “It’s lucky for you that you’re charming along with it.”

Once she was sure Marina and Fergus had gone, Elspeth cautiously opened the door. “I have to go, before the servants start snuffing the candles.”

“I know,” Brody said, the heat of his body burning along her back. He kissed her neck again with predictable results. Dear heaven, how on earth would she sleep after all this excitement?

“Will you stop doing that?” she hissed, shifting against him and making him groan.

“Ye like it.”

“Of course I like it,” she said impatiently. “That’s the problem.”

He laughed.

“Shh!”

He lowered his voice again. “I’ll see ye tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

He still didn’t let go, although his hold loosened. She could get away if she wanted, but right now, she was having too good a time. The prospect of her departure made him miserable. How glorious. After he’d disregarded her for so long, she couldn’t help basking in his sudden interest.

“Alone like this?”

“We’ll see.” In all the years she’d longed for Brody Girvan across an unbridgeable distance, she’d never imagined she’d feel brave enough to tease him. Tonight, the distance shrank to nothing at all.

She knew what they did was a game. Neither of them took it seriously. But she’d loved his kisses, and she hoped to heaven he’d kiss her again before Christmas was over.

The wish came true faster than she’d expected. Brody twisted her around and kissed her lips. “You should go.”

“I should.” Really she’d have to do something about reinforcing her legs, if he was going to make a habit of kissing her. Her knees were back to imitating wet string. “Good night, Brody.”

“Good night, mo chridhe.”

She stiffened in his grasp. He called her his heart, and she knew he didn’t mean it the way Fergus did when he used the endearment to Marina. Even an innocent like Elspeth understood that insincere avowals were part of a flirtation, but this one cut a little too close to the bone.

Her voice was shaky when she spoke. “Carry your mistletoe when next we meet.”

“It’s in my pocket, and that’s where it will stay.” His lilting Highland accent warmed and deepened.

“Good. You never know, it may come in handy.” She paused. “Then again, it may not.”

“Elspeth, ye wee besom…”

She disentangled herself, and this time slipped out of the morning room without his interference. Brody didn’t follow, which turned out to be fortunate. The maids, Kirsty and Rowena, emerged from the hall carrying trays of dirty glasses.

Elspeth wished the girls good night and prayed that the frail candlelight was kind enough to hide all the signs that she’d just enjoyed a thorough kissing from a roguish laird.

Or perhaps not quite thorough enough. She shivered again—it had been quite a shivery evening all round—to recall that strange, but wildly thrilling moment when his tongue had dipped into her mouth. She’d never imagined anyone doing such a thing, but tasting him so deeply, however fleeting the incursion, had sparked her carnal interest. What she’d felt in Brody’s arms was a million miles away from her milksop fantasies.

At least tonight had banished those juvenile absurdities forever. Her difficulty now was to avoid becoming addicted to his touch—and to make sure that he didn’t mistake her willingness to swap a few playful kisses for a desire to take things further. If he compromised her here at a family party, a proposal would be the inevitable result.

Pursuing a flirtation and preserving her virtue required a risky balance, for his sake and hers. Elspeth had no intention of accepting a reluctant bridegroom.

Her sensual curiosity must remain unsatisfied. A conclusion both unwelcome and inescapable.

But more kisses? More kisses, if she was careful, should be safe enough.

As she stepped onto the landing at the top of the staircase and headed for her room on feet lighter than air, her lips curved in a greedy smile.