Page 56 of An Allusive Love
The fast-paced reel began in a circle, all participants holding hands. They split off into four lines, connected at the center, and moved in a clockwise direction but not with hands held. No, the dancers put their arms around each other’s waist and twirled, which is why Brodie liked the reel. His palm cradled the curve of her hip through the thin muslin. She clung to him as the steps quickened. It was a teasing dance, their bodies pushed together from the momentum of the spinning, then separated. And then the clasping and whirling began all over again.
When the set ended, they were panting. Her chest rose and fell, her mouth slightly parted. If they were alone right now, he’d have kissed her. She seemed to read his mind.
“I need some fresh air.” She waved her hand in front of her face like a fan.
But each time they tried to slip out of the hall, a guest stopped them. Lachlan appeared, a grin on his face. “It seems ye have come to yer senses,” he said to Brodie before turning to Kirsty. “Would ye do me the honor of a dance?”
Brodie sighed, resigned. It was a cèilidh, after all.
An hour later, he led Kirsty across the courtyard and down the slight hill to the stable. The garden would have others enjoying fresh air and shadowed corners.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Where there’s no one to interrupt us.” He turned left at a mounting block. Brodie pulled her into the shadows of a small shed. She came willingly, her soft body pressed to his, her mouth upturned for a kiss. Who was he to make her wait?
His hand skimmed her cheek, then stroked her neck. He dipped his head, brushed her lips with his, and he was lost. His tongue plundered her mouth as desire seared through his core. Her hands threaded his hair. He cupped her bottom and lifted her, fitting her into him. She gasped, her nails dragging down the back of his neck.
“I love ye, Kirsty MacDunn,” he growled in her ear, setting her feet back on the ground. His doubted his control if they continued. Their last time together in the pines had played over and over in his head the past two weeks.
“I love ye too.” She pulled back just enough to look at him. “Will ye ask me tonight?”
“I will. And ye’ll say yes.”
“Ye’re that sure?”
“Aye, Brigid told me.” He grinned. “The jig is up.”
“What exactly did she say?”
“That ye were ready to forgive right away, but my mother came up with a plan to teach me a lesson.” Maybe not exactly what Brigid said. “And that ye yearned for me and was afraid I’d no’ ask ye again. So, I’ll put ye out of yer misery.” Maybe he added that last part.
“Ye’ll put me out of my misery?” Kirsty stepped back, her hands on her hips. “Ye can say that to me with a straight face?”
Bloody hell.
“Weel, ye’ll be waiting until tomorrow then.”
Kirsty gave him a wicked grin, stretched onto her tiptoes, and gave him a long kiss. Her hands trailed down his waistcoat as she pushed away from him.
“Brodie!” a voice called out.
Brigid was peering inside the stable. “Brodie, where are ye? Grandda is asking for ye.”
“Ye’ve been saved by a call of duty.” He tipped Kirsty’s chin up and gave her a quick kiss. “Ye may want to fix yer hair before ye return.”
Her hands flew to chignon. “Go, I’ll make myself presentable and meet ye back inside.”
Brodie tipped her chin and gave her a kiss. Before the night ended, they would once again be betrothed. Better yet, handfasted. Any more arguments would be settled living under the same roof. Better yet, a bed canopy.
Chapter Seventeen
Love Held Hostage
Brigid trotted alongbeside him as they returned to the castle. “What’s so important?” he asked when they were almost to the courtyard.
“Grandda just said to find ye, and meet him near the copse in the garden.” His sister grasped his arm. “Something has happened. I’ve no’ seen Lachlan or Gideon either.”
He nodded and turned from the castle entrance to go around the back. “Let me ken when ye find out,” she called after him.
