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

Her sensual curiosity must remain unsatisfied. A conclusion both unwelcome and inescapable.

But more kisses? More kisses, if she was careful, should be safe enough.

As she stepped onto the landing at the top of the staircase and headed for her room on feet lighter than air, her lips curved in a greedy smile.

Chapter 10

The next day, the weather improved enough to permit the promised riding excursion. Brody was happy to get out of the castle. However large the accommodations, days cooped up inside were difficult for a man of active habits. He welcomed the opportunity to gallop across the snowy hillsides, and cast his eyes over the wide vistas of his cousin’s estate, and breathe air straight off the top of the mountains.

Not to mention that a ride in the open might provide a chance to coax Elspeth away for more kisses.

It was years since he’d pursued a lady with no purpose beyond kissing. To his shame, he had to go back to when he was fourteen and madly in love with the miller’s pretty daughter at Invermackie.

Pretty Polly Macrae was still as plump as a pigeon. She lived happily on the estate, with her husband John Robertson, the blacksmith, and four red-headed children. While Brody’s interest in Polly had long since faded, he’d retained his early weakness for a soft armful of sweet woman. A soft armful like Elspeth Douglas. Why the devil had he taken this long to notice that Hamish’s sister was perfect for him?

The prospect of possessing her had kept him awake and itching with frustration most of the night. But he was prepared to master his impatience and wait until she was lawfully his. Then heaven help her, he’d set out to slake an appetite that only grew more powerful after last night’s tormenting, delightful kisses.

When he lured her into the morning room, he’d known that they only had minutes together. He needed to keep a tight rein on his passions. That plan had lasted about ten seconds, until the first innocent touch of her lips. He’d gone up in a roar of flame, while the temptation to devour her mouth and explore that luscious body had nearly overmastered him. Surely Satan himself had sculpted those sinuous curves.

He’d managed to act like a gentleman—or as much of a gentleman as a laddie could, when kissing a well-bred female behind a closed door. But maintaining his restraint had tried him to the limit. Once Elspeth promised to marry him, she’d better get ready for a quick ceremony. Or else he very much feared she’d be no virgin on her wedding night.

“Are ye all right, cuz?” Fergus asked curiously, trotting up on the big gray mare he always rode.

“I didn’t sleep too well,” Brody admitted.

His steamy fantasies of Elspeth kept him lagging behind the rest of the group. Ahead, riders strung out across the snowy hillside. Everyone had come outside this afternoon, except Ugolino and Giulia, who rested after their long journey. The children were chasing each other on their ponies. Prudence and Charity rode together, with Lady Glen Lyon a little further back beside Donald and Charles. Marina cantered ahead of the pack. Brody was surprised Fergus wasn’t riding at her side as he usually did.

Elspeth had set out with the others. Now he couldn’t see her.

Nor could he see Diarmid. Suspicion jabbed him with a sharp fork. Was she practicing her new kissing skills with her handsome cousin? Brody decided then and there, he’d brook no delay in getting his ring on the lassie’s finger. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. What better day to make a proposal?

He wasn’t by nature a romantic, but he knew Elspeth was. All those books she devoured were crammed with deeds of derring-do and larger-than-life heroes. He needed to ask for her hand with suitable panache.

Once she consented, just let that snake Diarmid try and look at her sideways. He’d beat the bastard to a pulp.

“Did ye hear me?” Fergus asked.

With a shock, Brody realized his thoughts had drifted away. Not since the days of Polly had any female distracted him like this. “What did ye say?”

“Actually I was saying you’re nae yourself this Christmas. What just happened proves it. Is there something wrong?”

Brody had assumed he’d concealed his recent restlessness from his friends. It turned out he’d assumed wrongly. “I’m thinking of making a few changes.”

“A new mistress?”

He couldn’t blame Fergus for jumping to that conclusion. With a sigh, he decided to confess his plans. After all, he’d told Hamish. Fergus also deserved to know. “A new wife.”

“Och, that’s braw news.” Fergus looked delighted. “Are congratulations due, old man? Who’s the lucky lassie? I hadn’t heard of ye courting anyone. I assume she’s a lady you met in Edinburgh.”

Marina had already discerned his interest in Elspeth. He was surprised she hadn’t confided that news to Fergus. “Not in Edinburgh. An old family connection.”

Fergus frowned. “I cannae imagine who.”

Brody frowned, too. “Elspeth Douglas, of course.”

“Elspeth?” Fergus sounded surprised. And not particularly pleased. With a sinking feeling, Brody recognized a reaction akin to Hamish’s.

“She’s a fine lassie.”