Page 20 of Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt

"My work is done," Emery said, and she retreated.

Gavin hardly noticed because he couldn't tear his gaze away from Jamie. A goddess come to life, ethereal and earthy at the same time. He strode to her, not giving a damn if he bumped into anyone on the way, despite a couple of Gaelic curses aimed at him. All he saw was her, all he wanted was her, and everything else became noise in the background, fading from his awareness as his world telescoped down to the transcendent beauty of her.

He reached Jamie at last, stopping a couple feet away. "Hey."

Way to charm the lady, dumb-ass.

Jamie's red lips curved upward. "James Bond, aye?"

His mind blanked for a heartbeat. "How did you know?"

"Erica almost let it slip, and I guessed when I saw you."

"It was Emery's idea. Pretty dumb, huh?"

Jamie raked her gaze over him, her tongue flicking out to moisten her glossy red lips. "Wouldnae say that."

"You like the monkey suit?"

She nodded slowly. Her pupils had grown large, dark pools within the rings of her hazel irises, and her breasts rose and fell on heavier breaths. Her taut nipples jutted through the fabric of her dress.

He burned to suck those little peaks into his mouth and scrape his tongue over them until she moaned.

Gavin ran a hand over his mouth. "Jamie, you are so damn beautiful."

"Thank you." A natural blush deepened the makeup-created one on her cheeks. "You look very handsome. The most handsome man in the room."

Not the handsomest in the world, he noted. She used to call him that, but after what he'd done, he needed to earn back the right to be tops in her eyes.

What was he supposed to say now?

He glanced toward Emery, to where she had been, but she'd moved out of sight. He spotted Iain, though, who tipped his punch glass toward Gavin in a mini salute. The Scotsman had dressed as a cowboy, with a Stetson hat and silver-toed boots to go with his silver belt buckle.

Iain gave him a thumbs-up. For some weird reason, seeing Iain made him feel better.

"Am I boring you?" Jamie asked.

His attention snapped back to the outrageously hot woman in front of him. He struggled to remember how to talk, but the sight of her scattered his wits. "No, not bored."

Jamie's lovely mouth curved into a smile, her lips sealed. She roved her gaze up and down his body once more, and the fingertips of one hand drifted to her chest, caressing the skin between her breasts in an unconscious gesture. "Emery has good taste in men's clothing."

"Yeah." His voice had gone rough, and he couldn't look away from her fingers and the way they teased her skin. He suffered another inappropriate urge, one so strong it stole his breath, to swoop in and lick her flesh everywhere she'd touched herself.

Jamie moved closer to run her hand along the lapel of his tuxedo jacket. When she detected the bulge beneath it, she slipped her hand inside the jacket to fondle the object nestled near his armpit. In a sultry voice, she murmured, "I love a man with a hard weapon. Even if it is plastic."

"Emery said —" His words got choked off when her hand massaged his chest. He fought for breath, his erection growing almost painful. "She said it was part of the persona. Being armed and dangerous, licensed to kill."

"Mm." Jamie skated her hand down to his waistband, slanting in with her head angled back to gaze up at him with desire in her eyes. "Know what else is part of the persona?"

"What?"

"Shagging a beautiful woman at every opportunity."

Her lips. So close. Ripe, red lips begging to be kissed and nipped and sucked.

Jamie stepped back. "Are you going to ask me to dance?"

"Huh?" He couldn't manage eloquence right now, not that he ever had a talent for it. Her seductive hotness so near him drove out any semblance of reason he might've had left after seeing her in that dress. "Sure. Yeah."

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