Page 51 of Taming the Scot
“Is it?” he asked, with a pained expression and a roll of his eyes toward the crowd. “I think ye must know by now it is no’.”
Aye, but she didn’t want to know that. As she struggled to find a way to answer him, to decipher his meaning, or at the very least bat away his words, they were approached by the Duke and Duchess of Sutherland, as well as the Earl and Countess of Errol.
Bronwen saw them as titles out of habit, but the bright smiles from Jaime and Giselle, the friendly nods from their husbands, reminded her that she’d been invited and wholeheartedly accepted into their world.
“Your Grace. My lady.” Bronwen curtsied to them both anyway, as was expected, especially in front of all the guests.
“Oh, please do no’ do that,” Jaime laughed. “We are friends, now are we no’?”
Bronwen liked the sound of that. And the genuine warmth in the two women’s eyes.
“Maggie, ye look ravishing,” Jaime said to Euan’s sister, who did indeed dazzle in a white silk gown.
Forget the ladies clambering for Euan’s attention. They might have to ward the men off of Maggie.
“Thank ye, Your Grace.” Maggie’s cheeks turned pink from the praise.
Amabel and Lillie disappeared in a rush to get punch and chat with the friends they spotted across the ballroom, and Maggie excused herself to go after them.
The first tinkling of music began a breath later, and Bronwen recognized the tune as the one Esme had played when she’d practiced with Euan at Drum Castle.
A waltz.
She tried not to look at him. Didn’t want to make eye contact and have him ask her to dance when he should be seeking out the other lasses present. Jaime and Giselle were both swept into their husbands’ arms and whirled away. Bronwen retreated a step, trying to get out of the line of Euan’s peripheral vision, but he turned with her.
“Ah, it is our song,” Euan drawled beside her.
When she peeped up at him, there was that grin that made his eyes twinkle with mischief.
“Our song?” Her voice sounded so far away.
“Aye. The song we first danced to. Let’s do it again.” He held out his hand to her, palm up, fingers beckoning with the slightest curl. A lock of his golden hair fell over his forehead, adding to his charm. “Miss Bronwen Holmes, might ye do me the honor of granting me this dance?”
And then he winked, tearing down all the walls she’d temporarily put up as protection from his enchanting assault. Oh, for heaven’s sake.
Why did he have to be so…so…appealing? How could she refuse a request like that? Her body, her heart, wouldn’t let her. “Aye,” she whispered, placing her gloved fingers in his outstretched hand.
Euan whirled her out onto the dance floor, his right hand gently and tantalizingly placed at the small of her back, where the heat of his touch seemed to seep through the fabric of her golden gown. He held up his left hand, she pressed her palm against his. And though she couldn’t feel his skin through the gloves, she knew it would be warm and calloused against her own—remembered the feel of him most vividly. She had to close her eyes for a second, steadying her breath, or else risk fainting.
“Ye are a vision tonight,” he murmured as he twirled her about. “The most stunning lass here.”
Bronwen’s eyes popped open. “Ye’re a consummate flatterer, Captain.”
“I tell the truth.” He nodded, and though his eyes held an amusing spark, she could see he meant what he said.
She swallowed around the lump that seemed to form in her throat whenever he was near. “Well, if we are being honest then, I’d rather be dancing with ye than anyone else.” Ever. For the rest of my life.
With the slightest pressure of his hand on her spine, she was drawn closer to him. Her breasts brushed the strong expanse of his chest, and she gasped at the scandalous touch. Their eyes locked as he whirled her about. The entire ballroom, and all of the people with it, seemed to disappear as it had when they’d danced before. There was something in the music, the alignment of their bodies, and the way his intense gaze never wavered from hers.
It felt like a dream that she never wanted to wake from because, for her, the fantasy was so much better than reality.
Except…this was her reality, if only for the moment.
The music slowly came to an end, and their whirling bodies stilled, but Euan didn’t pull away. His hand still pressed to her spine. Their fingers relaxed midair until several digits were entwined. They stood in the center of the ballroom, holding their dancing position, gazes unwavering on each other. Bronwen could hear the buzz of voices that certainly were making comments about the two of them. But she didn’t care what they had to say. She found herself falling deeper and deeper into the fathomless and captivating well of Euan’s gaze.
At last, a livelier tune, and dancers forming lines for a more jovial country dance, forced them to move.
“A reel,” Euan murmured, referring to the line dance about to begin. “Would ye like to dance?”
