The Laird’s Christmas Kiss (The Lairds Most Likely 2)

She would no longer dream of Brody falling to his knees before her and declaring eternal devotion. Now she got to know him better, she realized that wasn’t his style at all. Instead, she had an unwelcome inkling that tonight, her dreams would be full of his hands on her body and kisses that were hungry rather than worshipful.

“You ken what I mean,” he said steadily.

Not altogether, but she had a clue. “Yes, you can see me tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait.” He released her waist and before she had a chance to regret her promise, he caught her hand and brought it to his lips.

For a brief charged moment, she felt the heat of his mouth on her skin, then she was free. “Good night, sweet Elspeth. Dream of me.”

Curse him, she had a horrid feeling she would. “Good night,” she stammered, then turned with relief when her mother came up to her.

“Lady Glen Lyon,” Brody said, bowing. “It’s been a bonny evening.”

“It has.” Her mother spent a few moments sparkling at him before she turned toward the door, taking Elspeth’s arm. “My, oh, my, that Brody Girvan is a fine-looking man.”

“Yes, he is,” Elspeth said, with difficulty keeping her voice steady. Her fingers still tingled after that brief kiss, and she surreptitiously opened and closed her hand behind the flare of her skirt.

“And how he does love to charm the ladies. I hope he’s not finding this party too dull, where the only unattached females are a woman old enough to be his mother and a shy little mouse like you.”

Just like that, the burgeoning happiness in Elspeth’s heart shriveled to a bitter absence. Her feet had felt lighter than air when she danced. Now they felt as if someone had strapped lead bars to her soles.

What a pathetic nitwit she was. Brody was making the best of a bad situation. How could she have missed that the pickings at Achnasheen were slim for a man who liked female attention?

All that burning focus on her had been a game. She was the only available woman. Or at least the only one at a susceptible age. Of course his interest wasn’t genuine.

As if it would be.

When nasty reality set its claws into Elspeth, something in her revolted at always being belittled and disregarded. Brody had made a fool of her tonight, but he wouldn’t find her so easy to ignore again.

Her mother might deride her meager attractions, but Marina said she had potential, and Marina was clever and perceptive. Be damned if Elspeth would ever let anyone call her a mouse again.

Chapter 5

Elspeth’s rebellious mood survived a restless night, which she spent telling herself that she deserved her humiliation. Hadn’t she sworn that Brody Girvan would have no more power over her emotions? Yet the moment she met those glittering green eyes, she was as besotted as ever.

Never again.

So she managed to maintain a cool air when he joined her for breakfast. To her surprise, Diarmid wasn’t much behind him. At the Christmas gatherings, both young men usually slept late, after sitting up to drink and play billiards, once everyone else went to bed.

That wasn’t the only change. The air of constraint between Diarmid and Brody was new, too.

Brief curiosity sparked. What on earth was going on? Fergus, Hamish and Diarmid were the best of friends, legacy of a long ago escapade when Fergus rescued the two younger boys who had become lost in the mountains behind Achnasheen. Brody had always fitted into the group as if he belonged. But this morning, Elspeth couldn’t mistake the lack of ease between her two companions.

Before she had a chance to winkle out the story, Marina swept into the morning room and hurried her away to the south tower.

“My goodness, you’re on top of the world here, aren’t you?” Elspeth said in amazement, as she stepped into the large and airy sitting room with windows facing in all four directions. She’d never been invited into the laird’s private apartments at Achnasheen before. She paused to admire the view down to the sea, with the snow-capped Cuillins on Skye rising in the distance.

Marina laughed. “I often tell Fergus I only married him because no artist could resist the idea of living in such an extraordinarily beautiful location.”

“He wouldn’t believe you,” Elspeth said with conviction.

Marina’s striking features softened, so she looked extraordinarily beautiful herself. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Do you think you can do anything with me?” she asked, nervous hands twining at her waist.

“Coraggio, cara.” She left Elspeth standing in the middle of the floor and stood back to survey her with that intense attention, familiar after last night. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? Once I’ve finished, you won’t be lurking in the shadows anymore. I suspect sometimes the shadows are a welcoming place.”

Elspeth recalled her mother describing her as a mouse, without a hint of spite, and Brody making do with her company because there was nobody better to flirt with. “You’re right. The shadows are safe.”