Page 15 of Reckless Desire

The vision evaporated. Kenna narrowed her eyes. “You are wasting your time trying to woo me.”

Amusement lit his eyes. “Indeed? Why is that?”

“You might think we would have been friends on Skye, but you are wrong. You would have never known of my existence.”

“I know of your existence now,” he replied.

“Only because I am friends with Sir Stirling. Oh, why did he have to discover that I am a descendant of Robert the Bruce?”

“It is an honor to be descendant of the Bruce.”

She grunted. “A descendant born on the wrong side of the blanket.”

He gave a slow nod. “That explains much.”

Kenna stiffened. “Really? There is no need for you to waste any more time in my company, then.”

He frowned. “Miss Ramsay—”

She shot to her feet. “Leave.”

He stood. “Miss Ramsay, you mis—”

She spun and took a step toward the door. A hand closed around her arm and she whirled to face him, but mis-stepped and stumbled. He caught her. His arms tightened around her like iron bands. She found herself crushed against his chest and snapped her eyes up to meet his gaze. He stared down at her, brow furrowed, dark eyes filled with worry. His fingers flexed on her waist.

His gaze dropped to her mouth.

Her heart jumped. He is going to kiss me!

His head lowered.

Kenna froze, startled by the warmth of his chest against her breasts. Butterflies fluttered across the inside of her stomach.

His mouth touched hers.

“Lord Newhall.”

Kenna jumped back at the reprimand in Lady Chastity’s voice. Lady Chastity and Sir Stirling stood just inside the doorway. Lady Chastity’s eyes were narrowed. Sir Stirling entertained that same, strange smile she’d noticed that morning in the park

“Sir, I feel certain you are aware that to make advances to an unmarried woman can ruin her reputation,” Lady Chastity said.

“That was not my intention, Lady Chastity,” he replied. “In fact—”

His gaze jerked past Lady Chastity and Kenna started at sight of Lord Wilshire.

Lady Chastity and Sir Stirling stepped away from the door.

“Am I interrupting?” Lord Wilshire asked.

Kenna’s cheeks warmed. He knew exactly what he had interrupted.

“I believe this dance is mine,” he said. “Unless you prefer to stay here, Miss Ramsay.”

“Nae,” she blurted.

His eyes gleamed. He was enjoying himself.

“We had better go.” Without looking back at Lord Newhall, Kenna left.