Scarlett inhaled sharply, her shoulders tightening, as though she were holding herself steady.
“Congratulations, ye’ve done what any faither and husband has done since the beginning of time.”
“Ungrateful,” he murmured, just to watch the color rise in her cheeks.
Her jaw set. “Fine. Thank ye.”
It came out quiet. Uncertain. And it shot straight through him.
Kian allowed the smallest curl of a smile. “Ye’re quite welcome, lass.”
And then, because he couldn’t stop himself, he set his hands against the wall on either side of her, trapping her there.
The movement startled her, but she didn’t retreat. Her gaze lifted, locking with his, that same spark of defiance that pulled at him like a rope.
Christ, she undid him without even trying.
He wanted her again. Fiercely. Their last kiss had been a taste, and he hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.
He leaned close enough that her breath brushed his jaw, warm and quickened. Her eyes dipped to his mouth again, and the last thread of his restraint frayed to breaking.
For a moment, they just hovered there, caught in a taut, silent battle of wills. He could hear her breathing. It was steady but shallow, like she was bracing for impact. His own pulse thundered in his ears, the sound loud enough to drown out reason.
And he gave in.
His hand slid to her waist, the fine fabric of her gown warm beneath his palm. She inhaled sharply at the touch, her lashes lowering, and he closed the last inch between them. Their lipsmet in a cautious brush light enough to pull away from, if either of them had the sense to do so.
Neither did.
The second pass was firmer, hungrier. She sighed into him softly, almost resigned, and he caught the sound with his mouth, deepening the kiss. The taste of her bloomed across his tongue, sweet and dark.
Her palm found his chest, fingers curling not to push, but to hold. He angled his head, catching more of her, urging her to open for him. She did, and heat streaked low through him, curling tight.
He pressed her back until the edge of his desk caught her hip, papers rustling. One hand braced against the wood beside her, caging her in, while the other skimmed the curve of her side.
She made a muffled sound that nearly undid him. He wanted to taste all of it, every breath, every protest.
Her fingers twisted in the fabric at his shoulder, pulling him closer.
Her lips parted again, and he devoured her.
Christ, I could take her right here. Right now —
Then a loud knock on the door shattered everything.
They tore apart like guilty thieves. Scarlett retreating toward the window, Kian to the far side of his desk, breath ragged and mouth aching from the kiss they’d barely started.
“Come in,” he barked, rougher than intended.
Tam stepped through, shutting the door behind him with deliberate care, though his expression was anything but cautious. “Duncan’s been delayed, m’laird.”
Scarlett turned at the unfamiliar name. “Who’s Duncan?”
Kian’s gaze flicked to her. The heat from moments ago cooled into something heavier. “One of me guards,” he said evenly. “The lad’s meant to be bringing word about Elise’s maither. Apparently.”
Scarlett’s spine stiffened. Her fingers twitched against her skirts like she needed something to hold. “Her… maither?”
“Aye.”