Page 47 of Wild Scottish Fortune

“It’s the rules I’m worried about. What if I eat with the wrong fork?”

Lia gave me a look like I wasn’t that bright, and my eyes widened.

“It wasn’t the fork I was referring to.”

A knock sounded at the door, interrupting our conversation, and we both turned.

“Come in,” Lia called, and the makeup artist held the door open for Munroe and Finlay to walk into the lounge area of the suite.

Munroe’s mouth dropped open and I beamed as he crossed to Lia, his heart in his eyes.

“This dress. I’m going to either kill Willow or pay her extra. You look like walking sin. In the best way.”

“I told Orla I felt like I was naked in it.” Lia winked up at him and Munroe reached out, his hands hovering inches over the silk.

“I’m scared to touch. For more than one reason.” His expression turned wolfish, and Lia giggled, nudging him back with the tip of her finger.

“You don’t get to mess me up yet. It took a team to put this together and I will not let you ruin their hard work.”

“Are you certain? We can call this whole thing off and leave.”

“Munroe! You’re sponsoring this.”Lia laughed, squeezing his arm. Munroe wore a black suitcoat and his kilt, and the two made a striking pair.

A throat cleared and I turned to Finlay, realizing I hadn’t even given him my attention yet, so caught up was I with watching Munroe fall in love with Lia all over again.

My breath caught.

Finlay looked incredible. He, too, wore a kilt in soft grey with red, black, and white threaded through it. A crisp white shirt and dark waistcoat made him even more polished, and my stomach twisted in knots at the thought of having a man like this on my arm tonight.

“Orla.”

My name was a whisper at his lips, just a gasp of air before acceptance, a flash of…something…in his eyes. Quickly, he shuttered the look and cleared his throat.

“Orla. You look lovely. Willow’s done a fantastic job and this color really suits you.”

Not quite the hungry welcome from him as from Munroe, but I reminded myself that this was a professional engagement. What did I expect? For him to fall at my feet because he saw me in a dress and professed his love? The entire idea was idiotic. I wasn’t even sure if I liked Finlay half the time, and yet now a part of me—a deeply buried part of me, mind you—might want him to see me at my best and be overcome.

Stupid, really. This wasn’t a fairy tale, and I was no princess.

“Do you like it? I wasn’t sure how I’d feel, but she’s designed it so I can move easily.” I twirled for him, showing the dress off, while Munroe did his best to fawn all over Lia without dragging her into the bedroom.

“The dress is beautiful, as are you.” Finlay stepped closer and bent forward, and I leaned in automatically. He dropped his voice. “May I tell you a secret though?”

“Aye.” My heart hammered in my chest.

“While this is beautiful and I certainly won’t deny you’ll be the belle of the ball”—Finlay swept his hand out to my dress—“never are you more beautiful than when you’re in your element, building incredible things, with the creative light shining in your eyes. That, to me, is when you’re luminous.”

The breath left my body, and my eyes caught on his, the moment hanging between us.

Because it didn’t matter how much makeup or hair or fancy dresses I put on. Finlay saw me for me, and he thought I was beautiful just as I was. I wasn’t sure how that sat with me, because I’d been certain he’d prefer this polished version of me. The woman that I didn’t recognize in the mirror. Instead, he’d complimented me but told me he thought I was prettier when I was at work. In my overalls.

How was I ever going to keep my defenses up against a man who saw me clearly and accepted me for who I was—just as I was? The very thought was terrifying, and I needed to shift back into business colleague mode before I did something stupid like close the gap between us and lay my lips across his.

Because damn it, I wanted to. I’d wanted to the day in the shelter, when he’d donated so much money to a good cause, insisting on anonymity. There’d been a moment then, too, when I’d wanted to lean forward and capture his mouth in a kiss. I’d tried to tuck it away all week, thatyearning I had for him, and now it reared its head inside me and his words shattered me.

Finlay thought I, Orla Clarke, builder, was beautiful. Just as I was.

“Orla, I apologize. My fiancée distracted me. You look stunning,” Munroe said, shifting my attention to him and breaking the moment between Finlay and me. I turned, a smile at my lips.

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