Page 70 of The Scot's Perfect Match
Her chest ached, too full of something she couldn’t name. Was this really happening? Had he just declared he loved her? She swayed a little on her feet, and he gripped her hips to steady her.
“Ye dinna have to say anything,” he said quickly, misreading her stunned silence. “If ye canna return it, I’ll leave ye be, I swear it. But I had to tell ye. I had to?—”
She cut him off with a single step forward, closing the gap between them. “Ye really are impossible.”
And then she kissed him.
Or maybe he kissed her. It didn’t matter.
The second his lips met hers, all the weeks, years, of tension, of wanting, of avoiding, crashed into that single point of contact. Her hands fisted in his lapels, pulling him closer. His arms came around her, strong and desperate, anchoring her against him as though letting go would undo him entirely.
It wasn’t like their first kiss, impulsive and unplanned. This one was deliberate. Claiming. Full of passion and heady desire. And Ava put her whole heart into it.
When they finally broke apart, breathless, she didn’t step away.
“Ye’re out of your mind,” she said softly.
“Probably.” He brushed his thumb along her jaw, lingering at the edge of her cheek. “But I’m done pretending I dinna want a life with ye.”
She blinked up at him, her lips still tingling. “A life?”
Gavan got down on one knee in front of her, eyes staring up at her, full of love and hope, and her heart practically soared right out of her chest.
“Marry me, Ava,” he said simply. “Please.”
The world tilted, and she swayed again, steadying herself this time with her hands on his strong shoulders.
Her first instinct was to deflect, to tease, to protect herself with wit. But the words died on her tongue. Because for once in her carefully constructed life, she didn’t want to the safe thing. She wanted him. Loved him.
“Aye,” she said, barely more than a whisper. “I would love nothing more than to marry ye.”
For half a breath, Gavan just stared at her, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. Then he leapt to his feet and gathered her in his arms, kissing her again, fiercer this time, pouring everything he hadn’t been able to say into the press of his mouth against hers.
Somewhere, faintly, she thought she heard voices. Guests in the garden, wandering close. Of all the moments to be interrupted…
Gavan stilled, forehead resting against hers. “We should go back inside,” he murmured, though he didn’t release her immediately.
She nodded, dazed, lips still tingling. The last thing she wanted to do was leave the cocoon of love they’d created.
He laced his fingers with hers as he led her back toward the glow of the house, their secret tucked between them, charged and powerful.
And for the first time since the solstice festival, Ava didn’t care who might be watching.
The warmth of the ballroom hit them like a wave as they stepped back inside; their joined hands, hidden between them, slipped apart. The music had shifted to something lively, guests laughing as they twirled across the polished floor.
Ava felt lightheaded, as though she were traversing a dream. Her lips still tingled, her heart still thundered, and every glance at Gavan beside her, steady, unflinching, sent another shock through her chest. They were going to be married. She would be Lady Darkwood.
She should have been nervous. Should have been bracing for the whispers, the stares. But she wasn’t. Because for the first time in years, she wasn’t pretending. Let them whisper, what really could they say to ruin her happiness?
Moira spotted them first. She broke away from Asher on the dance floor and rushed over, her skirts swishing, her face alight with joy. “Where have ye been? I—” She stopped abruptly, the flushed glow in Ava’s cheeks, the rare softness in Gavan’s expression, likely giving them away. Moira’s mouth fell open.
“Oh.”
Ava beamed, but Gavan only gave the slightest nod. “Oh,” Moira repeated, then clapped her hands together with such force that half the room turned to look.
“Everyone,” she called out, without hesitation, without even consulting them. “Everyone, may I have your attention!”
Ava froze, her heart falling to her feet. “Moira, no?—”
