Page 41 of Seductive Scot
“Sorry, Sister,” Shona said. “What Grace and I are proposing is that we—” she circled her hand to include the three of them “fan the flames of desire.”
“Ye can count on me,” Maggie said, belatedly wondering if Rhys would approve, then decided she’d get his acceptance tonight after he was spent and sated in her arms. He was very amenable to almost anything she proposed then.
“Excellent,” Shona said. “The best way I know to get Reikart to lower the guard he’s raised against emotions is to stir his jealously. I would have said the best way was for him to think I disliked yer sister. He always has been obstinate and struck his own path, but it’s too late for me to claim that now, since he heard me trying to arrange a marriage.”
Maggie giggled, and Grace scowled at Shona. “I did tell ye to wait.”
“Ye did, but we don’t have much time. Maggie, who is the most attractive Irvine warrior?”
“Oh, that’s easy. ’Tis Fearghas.”
“Is he wed?” Shona asked.
Maggie shook her head. “Nay, but after our father killed himself, our brother suggested a marriage between Deirdre and Fearghas after her betrothed had broken their agreement. Fearghas declined because he didn’t feel that Deirdre could help advance him. It was humiliating for her. She’d never wish him to pursue her.”
“That’s perfect!” Shona exclaimed. “We don’t want to put someone in front of her she’d really want. I’d wager this coward Fearghas will desire to bind himself to her now since ye are wed to a McCaim who is related to my family.”
Maggie nodded. “Aye. Likely.”
Shona nodded. “Put a bug in Fearghas’s ear that—”
“Why would I put a bug in his ear?” she cut in, her face scrunched up in confusion.
Shona burst out laughing. “Not literally. I mean hint to him that Deirdre mentioned she’d be amenable to him pursuing her.”
“Deirdre will kill me if she finds out that I set Fearghas on her like a hound after prey.”
Shona waved a hand at Maggie. “She’ll thank you later when things work out with Reikart.”
“I hope so,” Maggie muttered.
After a damn good job of avoiding all contact with Deirdre the entire day, Reikart wasn’t exactly sure how he ended up paired to be her dance partner that night. One minute, he’d been learning thirteenth-century rules of etiquette from his mom, and the next his uncle Dermot had announced that Reikart needed to learn to dance thirteenth-century style, in case he found himself compelled to do so at the English court.
It wasn’t that he didn’t think dancing with Deirdre would be pleasant; it’s that he thought it might be too pleasant. He wanted her, and he was battling himself not to act on it. He could not sleep with a thirteenth-century woman who was a virgin.
But if she wanted to,his mind shot back.No, hell no.
He’d never felt bad about any of his hookups with the women in his time because he’d made damn sure they only wanted a night of fun or forgetting just as he did, but it bothered the hell out of him to contemplate sleeping with Deirdre casually. He chalked it up to her innocence, her being from another century, her being the sister of his brother’s wife, and obviously her being guarded against men already. The last thing she needed was a night of casual sex.
He stood awkwardly in the center of the great hall where tables and chairs had been moved to the side for dancing. As men and women started making their way to the dance floor, he thought about the conversation he’d overheard between Deirdre, his mom, and his aunt. He still couldn’t believe his mom had tried to set him up. Actually, she’d been attempting to enter him into an old-fashioned marriage contract.
He was still too irritated to talk to her about it. Knowing his mom, she had decided he needed help and that she knew best. He didn’t know what had turned her from cold to hot toward Deirdre, either, but he suspected from all the conspiratorial looks she and Aunt Grace had exchanged, his aunt had been the instigator.
Figures.
Grace was probably the one who had taught Mom the tactics she’d often employed to get rid of his and his brothers’ girlfriends when she had not cared for them. Grace was likely also the one who had taught Mom the subtle art of innocent deception. He didn’t have enough fingers to count the times he’d come home when he was in his twenties and found a strange woman there who his mom had just happened to meet and who had something in common with him. And then there had been Amanda, whom his mom had worked with at an art gallery. Mom hadn’t liked Amanda, and maybe, just maybe, that’s why he’d given her a chance.
But trying to get him a wife without asking him was crazy, even for her. Still, he wished he could take back his knee-jerk response. His words had been cruel. The moment he’d blurted them out and seen the hurt on Deirdre’s face, he’d known it. She’d shot back like a prize-fighting champ, though. Her targeted response hit the bullseye. She had no interest in him, probably because he was a jerk.
“Reikart.”
His name coming from Deirdre’s lips, throaty and inviting, did dangerous things to him, awakening emotions in him he had thought dead. The desire to know her. The impulse to protect her. A yearning to make her smile and hear her laugh. Even behind him, where he couldn’t freaking see her, he could recall her in vivid detail. He hadn’t been able to remember what a single woman he’d slept with looked like a day later. That had been the point. It had meant nothing. He had been able to lose himself, forget himself, forget the pain.
“Reikart, if ye do nae wish to learn the dances…”
The slight irritation in her tone even stirred him. Damn, that was not good. His blood surged through his veins as if he’d just finished a karate match or a rowing race. He clenched his teeth.
Just dance. Don’t engage. Don’t flirt. Don’t ask personal questions.
