Page 33 of The Scot is Hers
Alec scoffed. “Ye’re jesting. That woman is a menace.”
“Really? She seems so pleasant.”
“Now I know ye’re jesting.”
Giselle laughed. “Well, it appears, my Beast of Errol, that ye’ve saved me twice today.” She held out her hand, wiggling her fingers.
“What’s this?” he asked, coming forward and wrapping his fingers around hers. He brought his warm mouth to her knuckles.
A shiver raced from the spot, and for a moment, she forgot her thoughts. “We were to shake upon our agreement. Is that no’ what gentleman do?”
“Ah.” His fingers shifted from hers to grip her palm, and then glided over her wrist where he gripped her foreman. “This is how Highlanders shake.”
Giselle followed suit, gripping his forearm as well, a mischievous smile creeping onto her lips.
“When do we make this scandalous announcement?”
“There is the matter of telling your family,” he hedged.
Giselle frowned. “I am one and twenty. I do no’ need their permission to accept a marriage proposal. Besides, we were alone in that abbey for a very long time. And ye’ve been in my room now long enough for an assignation to occur. I shall simply tell them that ye’ve ruined me.”
Alec slid his hand up to her bicep, and she felt the heat of that tempting touch to her toes. He drew his face close to hers, his luscious green gaze locked to her own.
“Och, my lady, but my assignations always last longer than five minutes.”
Giselle flushed, instinctively understanding the wicked promise in those words.
“And if I’m to be blamed for your ruination,” his gaze shifted to her mouth, “then perhaps ye’d gift me with a kiss?”
Giselle was stunned by the differences between Alec and Sir Joshua. One had taken a kiss without asking, without caring. And this one, the earl she’d agreed to marry, asked for it.
“And if I said nay?”
He held up his hands and backed away. “Then I shall wait until ye’ve given me permission.”
The other difference between Alec and Sir Joshua was shewantedto kiss this man, and he was giving her the opportunity to do that.
Oh, she was hot and tingly at the prospect. Giselle nodded, licking her lower lip. “Aye. A kiss.”
9
This would be her second kiss of the day, and Giselle wanted this experience to erase the first.
“Are ye certain? After everything ye told me about Keith, I feel like a cad for asking.” His gaze flicked from her mouth back to her eyes. “I got carried away in the moment.”
For the briefest instant, the hard mask he wore for everyone else disappeared, revealing the softer, more vulnerable man inside. Then it was gone, replaced by the wicked earl, the beast she wanted to tame.
“There are many differences between ye and Sir Joshua Keith, no’ least of which is that ye, as prone to growling as I’ve found ye, are no’ a true beast at heart.” And she meant that, even when she’d found him in the garden a few years ago, she hadn’t been scared, hadn’t thought him cruel. He was more like a wounded animal. Even now. In search of a balm to the heart.
“I am flattered ye would say so.”
“I am serious.” And she needed to remember that he’d called their marriage a business deal. A transaction. She couldn’t let herself forget that or allow any emotions to play a part.
“Thank ye,” he said softly, swallowing hard enough she could see his throat bob.
Giselle smiled, shimmied her shoulders gently, and said, “Now ye may kiss me and be on your way before Jaime barges in here to witness. Or your mother, for that matter.”
“My mother might bring a small army. Though ’tis likely Jaime would bring Lorne.”
