Page 42 of Under the Laird’s Promise

"I ken that."

"And flushed." His gaze traveled over her face. "Pink all the way down yer throat."

She pressed a hand to her heated cheek. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like ye want tae..."

"Want tae what, lass?" He took a step closer, and she held her ground despite every instinct screaming at her to run. "Finish the sentence."

"We should rejoin the others," she managed, her voice not quite steady. "Before people start wondering where we've gone."

"Aye." But he didn't move immediately, and neither did she. "Though a bit of wondering might serve our purposes well enough."

"Tavish—"

"I ken." He stepped back deliberately, putting proper distance between them. "Rules are rules. Even when they're inconvenient."

The teasing note in his voice made her breath catch. "Especially when they're inconvenient."

"Is that what this is? Inconvenient?" His eyes held hers, something warm and challenging in their depths. "Are ye starting tae regret setting them in the first place?"

Heat flooded her cheeks. "I regret naething."

"Liar." But his smile was gentle, even as his gaze remained intent. "Ye're thinking about it. About whether those rules still serve us, or if they're just in the way now."

"That's…" She struggled for words that wouldn't betray too much. "That's nae a conversation fer a public lawn bowling game."

"Then we'll have it later. Privately." He offered his arm. "Come. Let's show everyone how well-matched we are at games that dinnae involve… complications."

"Ye're impossible."

"And yet here ye are, still trembling, still flushed, still thinking about what might have happened if that boy hadn't interrupted us."

She opened her mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn't come. Because he was right, curse him. She was thinking about it. Thinking about his hands on her, about what it would feel like to turn in his arms and press herself fully against him, about whether his mouth would be as clever at kissing as it was at driving her mad with words.

"Come on." She forced herself to turn away, to start walking back toward the main gathering. "People will wonder where we've gone."

"Let them wonder." But he fell into step beside her, close enough that their arms brushed with every step.

"That's what ye said earlier and look where it got us."

"Seemed like a fine place tae me."

"Tavish."

"What? I'm just saying, if we're meant tae be convincing everyone we're madly in love, a bit of public affection isn't out of place."

"That wasn't public affection. That was..." She struggled for the right word. "That was reckless."

"Felt good though, didn't it?"

She refused to answer, which was answer enough.

They rejoined the main group, and Maighread tried to focus on anything except the lingering heat of Tavish's hands on her hips, the rough edge to his voice when he'd talked about wanting more, the way her body still hummed with awareness of him.

Kathleen appeared at her elbow, eyes sharp and knowing. "Having fun?"