Devils Highlander (Clan MacAlpin 1)

He'd not danced in years, but in that moment, he thought he could put aside their troubles, could forget the despair of his years and the certain suffering of this world, to dance with her till the end of time.

“Aye, lass, I suppose someone has to keep you from dancing with the bailie. ” Chapter 18

The moment they stepped into the hall, Marjorie was captivated. Malcolm Forbes hailed from a well-to-do family, which his surroundings made no pretense to deny. The great hall had been transformed into a grand dance floor, with torches, candelabra, and a giant fireplace all illuminating the scene with warm, amber light. Musicians played in the corner, and knots of dancers whirled and laughed before her. It was like glimpsing a fairy tale.

Momentary panic clenched her chest. Their plan was to gather as much information as possible, which might make them conspicuous. She'd had occasion to meet folk who moved in Aberdeen's finer circles —

would anyone here

recognize her?

But, looking around the room, she eased. More than unfamiliar, these lords and ladies struck her as utterly foreign. The men dressed in waistcoats more luxurious than Aberdeen fashion typically allowed. And the women were downright flamboyant, with jeweled gowns and elaborate plumage sprouting from their heads.

She bit her lip not to smirk. Hopefully none of the ladies would have occasion to discuss said plumage with her allegedly bird-loving Hughie.

“The look on your face would frighten a lesser man. ” She felt Cormac's hand come to rest at her back. Marjorie glanced up at him and wondered at the strange light that danced in his eyes. Perhaps it was the exotic setting, but his guard seemed temporarily down.

“Remember, Ree, I'll ask the questions. Don't say it,” he added quickly, obviously seeing temper furrow her

brow. “I know you are capable of more, but tonight you have only to look your bonny self. ”

“Yes, we went over the plan. ” She sighed. She'd reluctantly agreed that, while she should stand by Cormac, gleaning as much as possible, the moment would likely come when he'd go off with the men. He'd use the opportunity to learn as much as he could.

Davie. They were so close now. It was only a matter of finding out how to penetrate the Oliphant, and they'd find Davie. And so her own inaction was fine with her.

Just this once.

She pulled her shoulders back, adopting the mien of a wealthy lady set to embark to the Indies.

“That look again,” Cormac muttered. He brought his lips to her ear. “What wickedness are you devising now, Gormelia?”

W

ickedness. The notion had her looking away, studying the dance floor with feigned intent. She blushed to think it, but she'd been devising all manner of wickedness since they'd shared their first kiss.

He'd slept on the floor, but she'd get him up and off that deuced pallet yet. Her pulse leapt at the thought.

“I'm imagining the fresh torments with which I can assail you. ”

Cormac didn't immediately respond, and so she looked back up at him, expecting to be met by his glower. But instead, he was watching her with hooded eyes.

“Torment me?” he asked, his voice husky. He had leaned close, and she felt his breath along her neck. The pleasure of it shivered across her skin.

Awareness of him shimmered to life. As if a veil had lifted from between them, she became keenly aware of the heat of him, the scent of him, the rhythm of his breath and heart.

She generally felt in control of situations, but this repartee had her scrambling. Feigning nonchalance, she scanned the room, taking in the swirl of strangers in shimmering skirts and velvet coats. “Aye, you. I intend on persecuting you mercilessly—”

“How I tremble. ” His hand snaked down to her lower back, scandalously close to the swell of her bottom.

She would not let him gain the upper hand. Setting her shoulders, she continued, “Until either you concede my superior intelligence, or… “

“Or?” His voice was bemused.

Curse him, she could be just as casual. She forced her voice to steadiness. “Or you agree to a dance. ”

“When will you learn, Ree?” He chuckled low. “You're no match for me. ” She gasped as he took her hand and led her to the dance floor. As far as she knew, Cormac's feet hadn't seen a dance floor since he was a boy. And yet his movements were commanding, his hand on hers calm and assured. It was exhilarating.

“I challenge you to do your worst,” he whispered, finding them a place near the center of the floor.