Iris held out her hand. James took it, wrapping his around hers as she drew him deeper into the shadows and further away from the sound of voices. Once Iris seemed to feel like they were far enough away, she plopped down on the grass, snatching her bottle back. James folded himself onto the grass next to her, leaning his head against the stone wall.
“Ye look lovely taenight, lass.”
She handed him back the bottle. “Thank ye. I dinnae think I like gowns.”
James nudged her shoulder with his own. “Well, one doesnae hurt anyone every once in a while. I dinnae mind either way.”
It was true. He wasn’t drawn to Iris for her looks, though she was quite lovely. He was drawn to her because of her fierce determination not to give up, not to let them see that she had any weaknesses because she was a lass.
She made him wish he was as strong.
Iris laughed, and James felt it deep inside him, calming him somewhat. She had that effect on him as well.
James reached up and brushed the bruise gently, the day’s events coming back to him.
Iris maneuvered herself until she was nearly straddling his outstretched legs, her fingers brushing the bruise as well.
“Does it hurt?” she asked softly.
James was focused on her touch and the fact that her skirts were bunched nearly to her waist, revealing a set of pale legs that glowed in the shadows.
“Nay,” he forced out, his throat suddenly tight. He could feel her body heat sinking into his breaks, the way her lithe body was pressed against his. “Iris…”
She stilled at the sound of his choked voice, clearing her own throat and moving off his lap.
“Mah apologies.”
James felt like beating his head into the stone wall behind him.
“Nay, ’tis no need tae apologize, lass. I was enjoying it.”
He felt her fingers brush over his shoulder. “Would ye like for me tae do it again?”
Oh, he did. Desperately.
“Nay,” he replied instead, rising to his feet and holding out his hand. “I want ye tae dance with me.”
Any way that James could hold her was good enough for him. They were flirting with danger right now, dancing around what they were feeling, and if she offered him something like that, he might not be able to walk away.
Almost shyly, something that James was still growing used to with Iris, she placed her hand in his and he helped her to her feet.
“I cannae hear the music,” she said as he wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her closer.
“Do ye need it, lass?” he murmured near her ear. “Or can we pretend tae make our own music?”
“Aye,” Iris said shakily, as if she was just as bothered by the sudden flare of attraction between them. “I think we can.”
Her hand found his and James moved them across the grass slowly, his hand tightening on her waist as he did so. Iris feltright in his arms, unlike any other lass had before. He didn’t care if she was supposed to be his enemy.
None of that mattered to his heart.
After a few moments, he felt her relax in his arms, and he tugged her closer, emotion hitting him from every part of his body. Yes, his body wanted to claim her as his, but his heart told him to treat the lass as if she were special.
Because she was.
“This is nice,” Iris murmured, her hand tightening on his. “Much better than a crowded great hall.”
“Aye,” James answered, withholding that he was just pleased that he didn’t have to worry about her brothers interrupting them.
