It was late when Brody saw Elspeth slip out of the hall. Apart from his, no heads turned to observe her departure. People had been coming and going all night. After dinner, the guests had split into smaller gatherings and scattered throughout the house, aiding his wicked purposes.
Because tomorrow was Christmas Eve, the children stayed up late in the hall, playing games like blind man’s buff and snapdragon under the indulgent eye—and with occasional participation from—their parents. Marina sat on the couch near the fire, sketching and carrying on a desultory conversation with Lady Glen Lyon beside her. Elspeth had fiddled with a few carols at the piano, then retired to an armchair with a book. Fergus, Hamish and Diarmid were in the billiards room. He had no idea where Ugolino and Giulia had disappeared to. Probably some distant corner of the castle, where they whispered sweet Italian nothings to one another.
Wherever they were, they’d have no trouble finding a sprig of mistletoe to encourage their kisses. Before the riding excursion, the whole party had spent a hilarious morning, hanging bits of the plant all over Achnasheen. Ugolino’s gift had provided vast amounts of amusement and copious excuses for high jinks. Fergus had chased a laughing Marina up and down the stairs, waving a cutting, and growling like a stage villain. Charles and Donald had snatched up their wives and demonstrated an ardor that surprised Brody. He’d always dismissed both men as dry sticks.
The mayhem hadn’t bypassed him. So far, he’d been lured and teased and nagged into kissing two little girls, Lady Glen Lyon, Giulia, Marina, Charity, and Prudence. Every female except Elspeth, in fact. He hadn’t trusted himself to kiss his wee wren, without betraying intentions that stretched far beyond the mistletoe’s authority.
All night he’d struggled against staring at Elspeth, although at any given moment, he knew to an inch where she was. If he looked at her, the hunger in his eyes would give the game away. It was bloody difficult battling the temptation to gawk at her like a starving urchin transfixed outside a baker’s window.
She hadn’t done much to help. Tonight the lassie looked bonnier than ever. She wore a bright yellow gown he hadn’t seen before, and her hair was arranged more simply than it had been last night. The loose knot flattered her gentle features, reminding him of a Raphael Madonna.
Now, for discretion’s sake, he reined in his fever of impatience and delayed ten minutes before he followed her. As he shifted, Marina glanced up, and he mimed hitting a ball with a billiard cue. She nodded and smiled and bent over her sketchbook once more.
Thank God, the corridor was empty. Laughter and shrieks of excitement echoed from the hall, but otherwise the old stone castle was quiet.
Brody reflected upon the changes these last few days had worked on him. Marriage had always seemed a distant, unalluring prospect. He’d never expected the idea of cleaving to one woman alone to whip up this lather of excitement.
Until he’d looked at Elspeth and recognized that happiness had hovered at hand for years. He’d just been too blind to see. Tomorrow he’d ask her to be his wife. Hell, he’d been on the verge of proposing on the hillside.
When he opened the library door, anticipation thundered in his blood. Anticipation and a touch of uncertainty. Would Elspeth be waiting? Or had this afternoon’s passion frightened her into retreat? He couldn’t blame her for shrinking from the heat that flared between them. It had shocked him, and he was far from an unsophisticated innocent.
He hadn’t intended their kisses to take fire the way they had. When she was in his arms, strategy turned to ashes, and all he heeded was his clamorous craving. Once she married him, he’d show her that this powerful attraction was nothing to fear. Instead, their mutual need was cause for celebration.
The library was dimly lit, and he was glad to see that a fire blazed in the hearth. While last night’s encounter had been marvelous, the temperature in the morning room had threatened to freeze his balls off.
It took him a moment to locate Elspeth. When he did, a slow, satisfied smile curved his lips.
“You surprise me, lassie. Here I was convinced ye would never shrink into the shadows again.”
With a grace that made his heart leap about like a newborn lamb, she rose from the window seat. “Shadows come in handy, when I’m doing things I shouldn’t.”
He shut the door behind him and crossed the room to take her hand. “You’re trembling.”
“It’s lunatic to be nervous, I know.” Huge brown eyes sought his. “You’ve kissed me before, but this is the first time we’ve made an actual assignation.”
He liked the sound of that. An assignation hinted at naughty acts.
Brody forced himself to recall his honorable intentions. He needed to treat Elspeth with care. She was his friend’s sister. She was a guest in his cousin’s house. She was still an innocent. However much he might ache to claim her, he owed it to her to wait until his ring was on her finger.
“You’re no’ really afraid, are you?”
“A pleasant flurry of nerves, that’s all.” The humor curling her lips made him desperate to kiss her. “I trust you.”
Those three words enclosed him like steel bands and stole his breath. He hadn’t always been a good man, but he prayed that he proved worthy of this lovely girl with her pure, generous heart.
“I willnae let you down,” he said in a gruff voice.
It sounded like a lifelong vow. He supposed it was. A precursor to vows he’d make before the minister in the not-too-distant future.
He leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss to seal his silent promise of fealty and protection. Soft lips moved beneath his, before she sighed and shifted closer to bury her hands in his hair and deepen the contact.
Arousal, swift and powerful, crashed through him. A groan of yearning escaped, as he gathered her up in his arms. Soon she met his rapacious kisses with rapacious kisses of her own. How far she’d come from the skittish innocent, who hadn’t known enough to open her mouth, the first time he kissed her.
Elspeth remained an innocent, however difficult that was to remember when she pressed so close that he couldn’t fit a wafer between them. When she made choked little sounds of female pleasure that rang sweeter than music in his ears. When her greedy hands stroked his face, his neck, his shoulders, his chest, his back. He felt like she tried to possess him through touch alone.
He, the jaded man of the world, shuddered with arousal under her exploration. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any of his adventurous Edinburgh ladies. With difficulty, he contained the urge to swing her onto the couch and strip away that stylish gown. Instead he pushed her back against the wall and ran his hands over her lush, rounded body.
With burgeoning delight, he discovered the sinuous curve of breast and hip, the sumptuous rump. When his fingers sank into the soft flesh of her buttocks, he gasped into her mouth. How he cursed the layers of material that kept him from touching her skin.
Knowing he shouldn’t, Brody began to drag up her skirts. He waited for her to stop him, as he was sure she must. Every inch he dragged the froth of silk and lawn higher felt like a victory. Until he shaped his hand over the delicious arch of her bum. Frail drawers still formed a teasing barrier, but when he kneaded one round cheek, he couldn’t suppress a groan of appreciation.
Her floral, female scent was more intoxicating than a barrel of claret. Hot blood pounded in his ears and made him deaf to everything but her choked gasps of excitement. Brody caught her under the buttocks and lifted her, plastering her tight against him. He tortured himself for nothing. Much as he wanted to, he couldn’t take Elspeth tonight.
When he pressed her against his aching cock, she whimpered in protest and pulled away, clutching his shoulders to stay upright. “Brody, that’s wicked,” she gasped.
“I know,” he groaned, running his teeth down her neck and wishing to hell they were already married and he could plunge inside her.
“We must stop. It’s getting…dangerous.” She squirmed, which did nothing to allay his exci
tement, damn it. “Please…please let me go.”
She was right. This heat between them threatened to take charge. He had to step back, or it would be too late. He’d never verged so near to dishonor, yet his intentions had never been so pure. “Must I?”
She wriggled again, then stopped when he gave another heartfelt groan. Dazed eyes clung to his face. In the flickering firelight, her lips were red and swollen, and her untidy coiffure now owed less to art than to the raking touch of his hands. “Am I hurting you?”
His grip on her arse hardened, as he consigned propriety to Hades. Propriety, and drawers, and honor. He hadn’t planned on testing the limits of his control tonight. Which made him a fool. He should have taken a lesson from this afternoon’s wild kisses. “Only because I cannae have what I want, lassie.”
“I think you should put me down.” She didn’t sound too certain.
“I should.” His hands tightened.
“Then why don’t you?”
“Because I cannae bear to let you go,” he admitted in a hoarse rush.
He kissed her again, a duel of tongues and lips and teeth that a short while ago would have scared her. Now her hunger met his. God almighty, when he finally got her into bed, they’d set the night alight.
Elspeth struggled free of the kiss to stare at him in wonder. “Good Lord, Brody, you sound like you mean that.”
“What the hell?” He frowned. “Of course I bloody mean it.”
A jubilant smile curved those full red lips. “How splendid.”
“You’re gloating,” he said, with a hint of resentment.
“I am.” She snagged her fingers in the hair at his nape and gave a gentle tug. That shouldn’t bolster his excitement, but it did. Perhaps because she touched him without a hint of hesitation. “I’m very pleased with myself indeed.”
Cursing those voluminous skirts that hampered his access to her, he hitched her up until her feet dangled in the air. “I’m suffering.”
Two days ago, she’d been nothing to him but Hamish’s shy, bookish sister. Now the mocking look she cast him under thick, dark eyelashes sent his heart slamming to a quivering stop. “Excellent.”
“Ye wee witch,” he groaned. “Kiss me again.”
He leaned in, lifting her against the wall and glorying in the way her thighs curled around his hips. By God, she was almost where he wanted her. He tilted his hips into her. Even as she kissed him as if he was the air she breathed, she gave his hair a sharper tug. The sting did nothing to quiet his pounding arousal.
Brody swung her around and settled her on the leather couch, although taking things just so far, but no further prolonged his agony. Better by far to let her go now.
He must like pain, because his hands shifted from that sweet rump to her breasts. Through her bodice, his thumbs teased the hard peaks of her nipples.
As he edged the dress down, he covered her décolletage with a rain of kisses. If he didn’t see her soon, he’d go mad. He tasted the valley between her breasts, drinking in the heady scent of her skin, then tugged aside gown and shift to reveal one creamy white breast.
“By God, you’re bonny, Elspeth,” he muttered and kissed the deep pink, puckered nipple.
Her broken moan betrayed her pleasure, before she jerked under him and pushed at his shoulders. “We can’t, Brody.”
“I ken,” he said with infinite regret, suckling that perfect peak to heighten his torment.
She cried out and buried her hands in his hair. “Stop it.”
“You like it.”
“Of course I do, but someone could come in.”
“Certo, you have that right,” said a mocking voice from across the room. “Someone has indeed come in.”
Brody wrenched upright in horror, to find Marina watching them from beside the closed door. Even in that appalling instant, something in Brody noted that his cousin’s wife didn’t look too shocked to find him with Elspeth.
“Oh, blast,” Elspeth muttered. As she sat up, she fumbled at her bodice. Brody stumbled off the couch and stood away from her. Her hands were shaking so badly that she wasn’t making much headway.
He whipped his coat off and passed it to her. She wrapped it around her shoulders with a mumbled thanks.
“We were just—” he started.
Marina’s lips twitched. “Yes, you were just. I’m not sure that a night when the house is full of people is the best time to satisfy your passion.”
Elspeth was blushing like a tomato and clutching his coat as if she wanted to shrink into it and disappear. “Things went too far.”
“No, they didn’t,” he interjected, before Marina could misinterpret that rash admission.
The abrupt switch from heat and desire to the demands of real life left him reeling. His gut clenched hard on regret and the churning remnants of arousal. Heat still pumped through him, making him feel like his skin was too small to contain his body.
“I came to warn you that Hamish is looking for both of you.” Marina stretched out her hand. “I’ll take you upstairs, Elspeth. A few minutes with a brush and comb, and Sandra and I will soon have you looking the thing again.”
“I’m sorry, Marina.” The misery in her voice made Brody want to punch the wall. He hated to see her shame as she went back to fiddling—without much effect—at her sagging bodice. “You must be disgusted.”
Tolerant affection warmed Marina’s laugh. “Don’t be a goose, cara. I know how mutual attraction makes the rest of the world disappear. None better. Per Dio, Fergus and I can’t keep our hands off one another either.”
“But that’s all right. You’re in love,” Elspeth mumbled, and Brody cast her a sharp glance. What the deuce was going through that canny head? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.
“Well, yes,” Marina said slowly, looking from Brody to Elspeth and back again.
Elspeth took an unsteady step nearer to Brody. She’d managed to cover her bosom at last. “Take your coat back, or people will wonder what’s been going on.”
“Aye, I suppose so,” he muttered, still puzzling over what she’d said.
“I’m sorry, Brody.” She shrugged out of the coat and extended it toward him with a trembling hand. “I encouraged you.”
“Dinnae be a wee fool, Elspeth.” He scowled at her, although what he most wanted to do was sweep her up in his arms and tell her that everything would be all right. “We were both caught up in the magic.”
“You’re too kind,” she said, and he loathed how she shrank from him as he accepted the coat.
Devil take it. This wasn’t what he wanted. Elspeth was acting as if they’d killed someone.
Although thank God Marina had come in. If she hadn’t, Elspeth would be compromised by now. With the woman he wanted stretched out beneath him and her breast in his hand, he’d been ready to send good intentions to Hades.
“I’m not bloody kind,” Brody snapped.
“Smetti subito. We don’t have time to quarrel.” Marina put her arm around Elspeth’s shoulders and steered her toward the door. “We’ll get you tidied up, cara, and nobody need be any the wiser that you and Brody shared a couple of kisses.”
Hell’s bells, she spoke too soon. Before Marina could open the door, it swung wide to reveal Hamish. Brody’s gut knotted with guilt and exasperation. One minute more, and they would have been safe.
Bright blue eyes conducted a quick survey of the room’s occupants, before they slowed to take a more comprehensive look. “What on earth is going on here, Brody?”
“We all wanted a chat away from the crowd,” Marina said, but it was too late to hide what had happened. Brody hadn’t yet put his coat on, and he was sure his hair must reveal how Elspeth had combed her fingers through it. Worse, Elspeth shrank away from Marina, like a thief caught in the act. While her bosom was now covered, her kiss-swollen lips, tumbling mass of hair, and crushed silk gown made her appear well and truly seduced.
“Hamish, it’s nothing,” she stammered, wringing her hands.
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Ignoring her unconvincing intervention, her brother strode into the library. Without looking, he shoved Elspeth and Marina out of the way, so he could confront Brody face to face. He bristled with outrage.
“What the hell have you done to her, you bastard?” Hamish’s fists clenched at his sides. “You couldn’t damn well help yourself, could you?”
Brody stared into his friend’s face, and wished he could claim the moral high ground. Instead shame coiled acrid and cold in his belly. Hamish had every right to be angry. By heaven, if Marina had interrupted them half an hour later, Elspeth’s virtue would be in tatters.
“Control yourself, Hamish,” Brody said.
“Control myself?” Hamish asked on a rising note. “What in hell gives you the right to say that to me?”
“Devil take ye, do what you like to me, but let your sister go to her room first.” Brody shifted across to put his arm around Elspeth, who looked close to collapse. “Don’t be afraid, lassie.”
To his dismay, she wriggled out from underneath his arm, and her response was tart. “You’re not helping.”
“Elspeth…” He sent her a confused glance, then turned to Hamish, spreading his hands. “I’m sorry, old man. I got carried away.”
“I’d like to carry you away to a good hiding.” As he caught Brody’s shoulder and forced him further apart from Elspeth, Hamish’s voice deepened to a caustic bass that bounced off the walls.
“Hamish, stop it.” Elspeth squeezed between the two men. “You’re making a fool of yourself.”
“No, you’re the one who’s made a fool of yourself,” he snapped.
“Not if this stays between us.”
“Elspeth, for the love of God…” Hamish sounded ready to explode, but after a moment, his shoulders lowered.
Brody drew a relieved breath. Hamish was still furious, but that sharp brain had taken charge of his turbulent emotions. Brody didn’t want to brawl with his friend in front of Elspeth and Marina. Not to mention that a bout of fisticuffs was the surest way to bring the rest of the guests down upon them.
Her brother’s rage didn’t make Elspeth falter. Brody admired her courage. “Hamish, it’s Christmas, we’re all family and friends here, and I’m not a child anymore. A few harmless kisses with an old acquaintance aren’t an unforgivable sin. You’re a hypocrite if you say they are. Don’t forget, you’ve told me plenty about what you get up to in Edinburgh and London.”
The Laird's Christmas Kiss Page 9
