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

She hunched one disdainful shoulder. “I’m not sure I want to kiss you, when you’re in this outlandish humor.”

“Are ye challenging me, Elspeth?” he asked in a low, dangerous voice.

She arched her eyebrows. “No, I’m trying to put you in your place.”

He grinned at her, suddenly, illogically happy. “Och, lassie, my place is in your arms.”

“Not if you’re going to stomp around like an angry bear, it’s not.”

He tightened his hold on her horse’s bridle. “I promise no more stomping.”

She focused a searching gaze on him. Something in his face must have persuaded her to relent, because a faint smile curved those lush, pink lips. “In that case, Brody, you may show me the view. I think it will be unforgettable.”

He laughed aloud with elation—and a measure of relief he refused to admit—and steered their horses toward the frosty trees. “I’ll make sure it is, my bonny lass.”

Chapter 11

Elspeth struggled to hide a smug smile as Brody hauled her horse through a grove of Scotch pines and out onto the hillside, where hoofprints in the snow showed where she and Diarmid had followed separate paths. If Brody caught her looking too pleased with herself, he might guess just how much she relished his astonishing jealousy.

Jealousy over her. Plain, mousy Elspeth Douglas, the family afterthought.

Last night, she’d decided that Brody’s kisses were the most delicious thing that had ever happened to her. Right now, his fuming reaction to her going off with Diarmid gave those kisses some competition.

How lunatic was he to worry about Diarmid? He was protective of her because he was her cousin, not because he was interested in her in any romantic sense.

Brody’s nettled response put paid to her mother’s theory that he only pursued her because nobody more attractive was available. When he asked what she’d been up to with her cousin, the temper had all but steamed off him.

It was unworthy to gloat, but Elspeth wouldn’t be human if she failed to enjoy his confusion. The irony was that if she’d remained that lovelorn ninnyhammer, he still wouldn’t care a whit where she bestowed her kisses.

This flirtatious game with Brody became more intriguing by the minute.

He drew the horses up in a hollow and dismounted with the easy grace that had always left her younger self swooning in delight. The smooth, controlled power of his descent had a similar effect on the newly self-possessed Elspeth. Although she refused to swoon, because it meant she might miss what came next.

“I can’t see the Cuillins,” she complained, just to torment him a little more. What a little cat she was turning into.

A cat was better than a mouse, by heaven.

“Och, you’ve seen the Cuillins a hundred times before,” he growled, stalking across to seize her by the waist. His ruthless grip turned her blood to hot syrup.

“You said you’d show me.” She rested gloved hands on his broad shoulders.

He stared up into her face. Under the curling brim of his hat, the blaze in his green eyes threatened to melt every patch of snow on this mountainside. “You dinnae need to see the Cuillins, when I intend to show ye paradise.”

“Brave words,” she scoffed, but the tremor in her voice betrayed the desire rushing through her. “Do you have your mistletoe?”

“To hell with mistletoe.” He lifted her from the saddle to set her on the snowy ground. “Kiss me, Elspeth. You’re all I’ve thought about since last night.”

Oh, dear heaven. Not even newly self-possessed Elspeth was proof against that impassioned declaration. With a sigh of surrender, she curved her body into his and tangled her fingers in his wild mop of dark curls. The air was cold, and he was so irresistibly warm.

She brought his head down until his lips met hers. This time there was no preliminary coaxing. His mouth opened over hers, and her gasp of immediate pleasure invited his tongue into her mouth. She felt like he tried to absorb her into himself. With a choked moan, she curled closer.

He lifted his head. “Kiss me back, Elspeth.”

She licked her lips. After last night she recognized the tang as the taste of Brody. He groaned and shut his eyes for a moment. Then he gathered her up and began to nip and play at her lips, sucking her lower lip into his mouth and using his teeth to set her tingling. By the time she mustered the courage to copy what he was doing, she trembled, and her legs proved as unreliable as usual.

“Oh, aye,” he muttered. “Aye, that’s it, lassie.”

The kisses turned into a teasing contest that set her heart racing with excitement. Every glancing touch stoked the heat between them, until he dragged her up onto her toes and took her mouth with his. This time, she met the sweep of his tongue with a flicker of her own. The thrill left her shocked, and excited and eager for more.