Page 67 of The Highlander’s Savage Vow

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The evening's festivities were in full swing when Gordon approached them again, this time with a bold grin and a courtly bow toward Iona.

"Me lady," he said with exaggerated formality, "would ye honor an old friend with a dance? Fer old time's sake, if yer husband agrees?"

Ruaridh felt his jaw tighten, though he couldn't say exactly why. It was perfectly reasonable—Gordon was an old friend, the request was proper, and Iona deserved to enjoy the celebration.

"Of course," he heard himself say, though the words felt forced. "Go ahead, lass."

Iona glanced at him uncertainly. "Are ye certain?"

"Aye. Enjoy yerself."

He watched them move onto the cleared space where other couples swayed to the musicians' lively tune. Gordon was an excellent dancer, leading Iona through the steps with practiced ease. They looked... comfortable together. Natural.

Stop it. They're old friends. Nothing more.

But as the dance continued, Ruaridh found himself cataloguing every shared laugh, every time Gordon leaned close to speak in her ear, every time her face lit up with genuine enjoyment. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Ye're glowering like a thundercloud," Duncan observed, appearing beside him with a cup of ale.

"I'm not glowering."

"Aye, ye are. And if looks could kill, young Gordon would be a smoking crater in the floor."

Ruaridh forced himself to look away from the dancing couple. "Dinnae be ridiculous."

But when he looked back, Gordon was saying something that made Iona shake her head with apparent confusion, her brow furrowed as if she didn't understand. Gordon's response—whatever it was—made him throw back his head and laugh.

Enough.

Ruaridh strode onto the dance floor just as the music ended, arriving at Iona's side with more haste than grace.

"Me turn," he said, offering his hand to his wife.

Gordon stepped back with a knowing smirk. "Of course. Thank ye fer the dance, me lady. Most... illuminating."

As the musicians struck up a slower melody, Ruaridh drew Iona into his arms, positioning them at a respectable distance from the other couples.

"What did Gordon say tae ye?" he asked without preamble.

Iona looked up at him with those expressive hazel eyes. "The strangest thing. He said ye were as taken with me now as ye ever were. But that daesnae make sense—ye never showed any particular interest in me as a child."

Ruaridh nearly stumbled. "Is that what ye think?"

"Well... aye. We were friends, certainly, but ye never..." She trailed off, studying his face. "Did ye?"

"Iona." His voice was rough with something between amusement and disbelief. "I followed ye around like a lovesick puppy. I challenged Gordon to mock duels fer yer favor. I gave ye me best marbles and climbed trees to pick ye the highest apples."

Her eyes widened. "But I thought... I thought ye were just being kind..."

"Kind?" He laughed softly, spinning her gently as the dance required. "Lass, I was completely smitten. The whole castle knew it except ye apparently."

"Oh." Color rose in her cheeks. "I had nay idea."

"And now?" The question slipped out before he could stop it.

"Now what?"