William exhaled sharply and looked away. At that moment, Sorcha entered the hall. And everything else ceased to matter.
She walked inside, wearing a gown the color of ripe cherries. It was a deep, rich red that clung to her curves with unapologetic elegance. Her red curls had been styled to perfection, and her dazzling brown eyes accentuated her freckles.
She was devastating.
The whole hall noticed.Henoticed.
She walked between Avery and Rhea, the three of them presenting a striking picture. But his attention was fixed on her alone. She was too perfect. And far too good for the man who had once claimed her.
That thought alone had his fingers clenching around the stem of his glass.
He had decided to host the cèilidh for a reason. Sorcha was to be presented, introduced, and courted. That was the point of this night.
He swallowed hard.
Focus.
But the more he tried, the more distracted he grew. His eyes traced the line of her neck down to her hips, which he ached to grip. His fingers itched with the urge to explore the softness he knew was hiding beneath.
Nay, she is yer uncle’s widow.
The reminder left a bitter taste on his tongue.
After downing the rest of his whisky in one swallow, he thrust the empty glass into Myles’s hand.
Myles, who had been busy charming a poor woman into laughter, immediately noticed. But William had already turned around and had moved away.
He crossed the hall in long strides, the music and conversation fading into the background. Sorcha saw him before he reached her; he knew it the moment her body stiffened.
Her steps slowed. His cousins noticed instantly, leaning in to whisper in her ears. William spared them no glance, no acknowledgment. Whatever relations they claimed, they were irrelevant. His focus was on Sorcha as he stood before her.
She dipped into a small curtsy, graceful despite the thick tension between them. “Me Laird,” she greeted softly.
He did not respond. Instead, he reached for her.
His hand wrapped around hers in one swift motion, claiming. Warm skin met warm skin, and the contact did things to his nerves that he would never admit.
She stumbled a step, clearly caught off guard. “What—” she sputtered, tried to free her hand.
“I’m going to introduce ye to men of standing,” he announced, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Her breath hitched audibly. And goddammit, the sound made his cock twitch against his kilt.
Sorcha wrenched her hand free, her eyes widening in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
William turned to face her fully, keeping a determined look on his face.
“I’m standing by what I told ye in me study,” he said evenly.
Everything around them seemed to fade away.
He took another step closer. Close enough to catch the scent of her skin, the way her chest heaved, the way her lips parted.
“Me intentions are clear,” he continued, his voice rough. “I’m lookin’ for yer next husband.”
The word‘husband’must have landed like a slap. Her eyebrows drew together, a frown forming slowly. She looked as though she had tasted something bitter. Then she shook her head.
“Ye sound just like me faither,” she scoffed.
