“Ye hit the target every time,” Gavan chuckled, resting his bow against the post. “That’s hardly humiliation.”
“Aye. Fair enough. I’ve been out of practice for years.” She handed Charles the bow and adjusted the cuff of her glove, watching Gavan from the corner of her eye. “And I think ye went easy on me.”
He held up his hands and shook his head. “I didna. I swear it.”
Ava grinned. “Liar. The Gavan I knew would have hit a bullseye every time. I might have beat ye at horse racing, but when it came to archery, there was no comparison.”
He smiled faintly, as if to acknowledge the truth. “Would ye prefer I annihilate ye in front of Charles? I do try to be a gentleman.”
She laughed, pulling off her archery glove and tossing it at him. “Ye, a gentleman? Do ye no’ recall kissing me in plain view for all to see?”
The words tumbled out before she could stuff them back in. She’d forgiven him for that transgression only a few moments before, and now here she was taunting him again. Besides, she had liked that kiss. And that kiss had led to another kiss in the garden. So why was she being so harsh?
Gavan caught her glove, holding it midair for a split second. “Ava?—”
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, crossing her arms like shield. “I… I have forgiven ye and it was cruel to bring it up again and in so callous a way when we’ve been out here having fun.”
Gavan studied her, and she wished she could see exactly what he was thinking on the inside. His unflinching gaze locked on hers. “Ava, I kissed ye because I couldna, no’ kiss ye. Because I’ve wanted to for longer than I care to admit.”
Ava froze. She tried to remember how to breathe as she processed what he was saying, as her heart thundered madly.
He continued, his voice low and fast, as though the words themselves had been waiting too long to be spoken, and he feared not getting out. “Ye’ve been in my head for years, Ava. Every damn season. Every time I saw ye with some man who didna deserve ye. Every time I told myself to stay away because it was easier than wanting what I couldna have. And then that day at the festival, I didna care anymore. I wanted ye, and for once, I let myself have it, no’ thinking of the consequences or who might have been lurking to see. And then again in the garden… I dinna regret it.”
The weight of his words kept her rooted in place. But that hardly mattered, for Gavan was stepping closer. Close enough now that she could feel the heat of him, smell the faint trace of his spicy soap and leather, and something distinctly him. “Do ye want me to regret it?” he asked quietly.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out, even though her mind was racing with a thousand things she could say. “I…” Her voice failed her.
His hand brushed hers, tentative as though he were giving her time to pull away. “Say the word, Ava, and I’ll leave it in the past where it belongs.”
She couldn’t speak. Not when every inch of her wanted to lean into him.
The air between them sizzled, hot and humming, until she thought she might combust from the wanting alone.
He leaned in, slow, careful, as though giving her every chance to deny him, until his forehead nearly brushed hers.
Her eyes fluttered shut.
And then…
Voices.
A burst of laughter from the path beyond the hedge.
They sprang apart, the spell shattered. Gavan turned sharply toward the sound, his posture rigid, while Ava smoothed her skirts with trembling hands, trying to breathe past the pounding in her chest.
“I should…” Her voice came out shaky, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “We should go back inside before we’re missed.”
He nodded, though his jaw was still tight. “Of course.”
Without another word, he offered her his arm. She hesitated before taking it, their steps in sync as he led her back toward the glowing windows of the house.
By the time they reentered the house, Ava’s lips still tingled where his had nearly, almost, kissed them, and she couldn’t stop replaying the words that had changed everything: I couldna no’ kiss ye.
21
The Ladies’ Marriage Prospects Bulletin
Mr. Asher McRae is to marry Miss Moira Douglas.