Page 34 of Duke of Storme
My new clan.
The words sent something hot and possessive spiraling through Finn’s chest. When had she started thinking of herself as truly belonging? And why did hearing her claim his heritage as her own make something constrict in his throat?
“How thoughtful of ye,” Margaret said, and for the first time in years, she sounded genuinely pleased, rather than calculating.
As the evening wore on, Finn found himself watching Diana more than the other guests. She moved through Highland society like she’d been born into it, listening more than shespoke, asking thoughtful questions, remembering names and connections flawlessly. She was… simply wonderful.
But it was more than her social performance that held his attention. There was a presence he’d never noticed before. Or perhaps it had always been there, hidden beneath layers of careful propriety and silk, waiting for the right moment to emerge.
Finn was simply enchanted.
What is happenin’ to me?
The answer came when the musicians struck up the first dance, and he found himself offering her his hand without conscious thought.
“We’re expected to lead,” he murmured, though that wasn’t entirely true. He simply wanted – needed – to touch her.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Diana replied, placing her gloved hand in his.
They stepped onto the dance floor together, and Finn felt the weight of every gaze in the ballroom. But for once, he didn’t care what Highland society thought. All that mattered was the woman in his arms.
The music began, and Diana let Finn guide her into the opening steps of the reel. They had practiced this, rehearsed it until the movements were as natural as breathing. But standing here now, with his hand warm at her waist and his gray-blue eyes focused entirely on her, it felt nothing like practice. It felt real.
The ballroom seemed to fade at the edges, leaving only the music, the warmth of each other, and the way he was looking at her as though seeing her for the first time.
“Ye’re doing well,” he murmured as they turned through the steps. “Better than well.”
“Only because I had an excellent teacher,” Diana replied.
Something shifted in his expression as they moved together. The formal distance between them somehow shrunk without either of them being conscious of it. His hand pressed more firmly against her back, and Diana felt heat spiral through her despite the layers of her gown.
This wasn’t the careful, measured performance they’d rehearsed at Storme Castle. This was something else entirely – something that made her pulse race and her skin feel too warm against the silk.
“Ye’re no’ what I expected,” Finn said quietly, his Scottish accent thickening with some emotion that he couldn’t quite mask.
Diana met his gaze directly. “Is that a compliment, Your Grace?”
“I’m no’ sure,” he admitted, his voice rough. “But ye disarm me.”
The sudden honesty stole her breath entirely. This wasn’t part of their performance or part of the careful charade they’d planned. This was real, this was echanting.
Around them, other couples moved through the same steps, but Diana felt as if she and Finn existed in their own little universe, connected by something that had nothing to do with their arrangement and everything to do with the way he was touching and looking at her.
“Good,” she whispered, emboldened by something she didn’t recognize in herself. “You frighten me far less when you’re off balance.”
Finn’s grip tightened, and Diana thought she heard him make a sound that washalf laugh, half groan. The music swelled around them, but all Diana could focus on was the way his thumb traced along her spine through the silk of her gown – a touch so subtle that anyone watching would think it accidental. But Diana knew better. There was nothing accidental about any of this – the way he was holding her, or the way his eyes never left her face.
“Ye should be careful, Duchess.” His voice was so low only she could hear it. “I’m no’ a kind man.”
Diana lifted her chin, meeting his intense stare without flinching. “Then it’s fortunate that I never asked for kindness.”
Diana saw something flicker in his gray-blue eyes that made her stomach flutter with nervous excitement.
“What did ye ask for?” he demanded, and there was something hungry in his voice that made her breath catch.
Diana took a deep breath. The brutally honest answer was that she’d never asked for anything at all, not really. She’d simply accepted what was offered, taken what was given, and hoped for scraps of affection. But, standing here in his arms, wearing his colors and feeling like she finally found a place she could belong to, she realized that perhaps it was time to start asking for more.
“Everything,” she whispered before she could stop herself.
