Page 46 of The Highlander's Kilted Bride
His mouth tilted up, matching the smile in his eyes. “Still bent on making mischief?”
The man was certainly blunt.
“Why, sir, whatever can you mean?” she replied, widening her eyes in mock innocence.
He inclined his head toward Richard. “Your hopeful suitor. You’re trying to put him off—or make him jealous. I’m having trouble deciding. But he’s staring daggers at me, so I’m leaning toward the second interpretation.”
Startled, she glanced at Richard. Sure enough, he was directing a tremendously dirty look at Kade, as if he saw him as a rival for her attentions.
“That’s ridiculous,” she said. “Even Richard’s not stupid enough to believe you would wish to court me.”
Then she mentally kicked herself. When would she learn to control her blasted tongue?
Kade glanced at Richard before returning his attention to her. “Are you sure? If I even dared to flirt with you, I suspect he’d challenge me to a duel.”
“Now you’re just being silly.”
“I am frequently silly,” he admitted. “As any one of my brothers will tell you.”
“I rather doubt that. Most of the time, you seem very serious to me.”
He inclined his head. “My family does often scold me for being too serious and working too hard. The fault of my chosen profession, I’m afraid.”
“One must be serious to attain the level of excellence you have achieved. But then why did you say you were frequently silly, when you’re the exact opposite?”
“Because I would hate for you to think of me as a dull fellow like poor Richard over there. You’ve rather boxed him into a corner, haven’t you?” He ducked his head a bit, to stare right into her eyes. “I don’t want you to box me in, Charlotte.”
For a panicky moment, she felt like she’d just been thrown into a deep pond. Men never panicked her, and yet right now her brain was scrambling to come up with a coherent reply.
“I . . . I would never compare you to Richard,” she stammered.
“So, I’m not boring?”
She eyed him. “My dear sir, I believe you have now boxedmeinto a corner. At least conversationally.”
Kade gave her a lazy smile that made her heart flutter madly. For a moment, she felt as light-headed as Melissa always claimed to be.
Fortunately, Angus appeared in front of them with a glass for Kade. “Here’s yer whisky, lad.”
“Thanks, Grandda. Perhaps you can also fetch a drink for Miss Charlotte.”
“Please, call me Charlie,” she automatically said. “Oh, but not in front of my mother.”
“Yes, you mentioned that before,” Kade replied, sounding amused. “Duly noted, though.”
Perhaps she really was becoming dicked in the nob. At the moment, she was certainly coming off as weak in the head, as Mamma so daintily put it.
“So, lassie, ye’ll be wantin’ a drink?” Angus said.
“No, thank you, Mr. MacDonald. I’m fine.”
“Then shove over,” the old fellow said. “I’ve a mind to talk with ye.”
He plunked down beside her. Kade shifted as best he could, but he was so big that Charlie found herself squeezed between the two men, and thigh to thigh with Kade. Suddenly, her dress and underskirts didn’t feel nearly as sturdy as they normally did.
And, appallingly, she was absolutely riveted by the outline of Kade’s muscled thighs through his trousers.
“Grandda, if you wish to speak to Miss Charlotte, I can move away,” Kade said. “You practically sat on the poor girl.”
