Page 47 of The Scot Who Loved Her

“They are truly awful.” Olivia shook her head.

“They are jealous.” Caroline flicked her gaze curiously at Lord Thirsty.

“Lord Thirlestane.” He bowed to Caroline and took her hand in his.

Olivia peered over Caroline’s shoulder, expecting to see Malcolm as he’d been approaching, but he was not there. Expanding her search, she found him lurking by the French doors leading to the gardens.

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Caroline said to Thirsty.

Olivia gripped onto Caroline’s arm. “If you would excuse us, my lord. I would like to take a turn about the room with my dear friend.” She batted her eyelashes at him, giving the impression that she was about to gossip all about him if he would relent.

“I would not dream of holding you back,” he said, his eyes saying that he thought she would mean to do exactly as she’d promised.

Zounds, was she glad to finally be rid of the man.

“You don’t like him,” Caroline whispered as they linked arms and started their promenade.

“He is boring.”

Caroline laughed. “After having met my brother, you will think that about everyone else.”

Olivia glanced sharply at her, her expression demanding an explanation, but Caroline only smiled knowingly.

When they reached Malcolm, Olivia let go of Caroline’s arm. “I need some fresh air.”

“Of course, you do,” Caroline teased and then sauntered away, leaving Olivia to wander outside into the garden with Malcolm on her heels.

She pretended not to notice him even though she could feel his gaze on her back. Every inch of her came alive with heat. There was no way for her not to be aware of him. Just the mention of his name did strange things to her.

Heaven help her, but shelikedthis Scot—a lot. More than a lot. Oh, how she wanted him to kiss her again. Right now.

She should go back inside, but the thought of returning to the den of frivolity had her thinking the asylum might be the better choice. Boldly, and without turning around, she said, “I hear there is a gorgeous gazebo in the center of the maze. I’ve always wanted to see it.”

Without waiting for his answer, she disappeared into the maze, realizing what she was doing would be considered scandalous and deciding not to care at all. If her mother discovered her, so be it. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d been caught in a maze with Malcolm.

Maybe she’d be forced to wed him, and that wouldn’t be a torment, of that she was certain. The scandal sheets could hang! As soon as they were hidden from view, she stopped, and he came up behind her, the heat of his body surrounding her. He wrapped a curl around his finger, sliding it along her neck.

Olivia turned around, her chest flush to his front, her breathing rapid. Malcolm stared down at her, his breathing seeming to quicken. What were they doing? This was…it was everything she wanted. Wanted desperately to feel his kiss again. And he didn’t make her wait.

Where his kiss at the opera house had been gentle, brief, this time, it was anything but that. He claimed her mouth with his signature intensity. The same power that melted from his limbs. He wrapped his hands around her waist. Then his palm was pressing to the small of her back, holding her tight to his hard body.

Olivia grasped his shoulders, squeezing the muscles that bunched there. His tongue slid along her lips, coaxing her to open and touch her tongue to his. A spark of fire ignited in her core at that subtle caress, and then he was stroking the inside of her mouth, and she was mimicking the moves.

Oh my. This was delicious, dangerous, wicked.

And she never wanted it to end.

Malcolm tore away from her, his eyes filled with a swirling passion.

“I shouldn’t be kissing ye, lass.” His brogue was thicker than usual, revealing a side of himself he kept concealed from the public.

“Because you don’t want a wife?”

“Aye. And because kissing ye makes me want to...kiss ye some more.”

“Then do it. Kiss me again.”

This time, he kissed her with a feral passion that took her breath and made her forget where they were, who she was and the panic of losing her mind, of being sent away. He kissed her neck, sending white heat shooting from every place his lips contacted. Her nipples tightened, longing for something she didn’t understand, and between her thighs…she ached for him to touch her. To stroke all of the places that tingled.

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