Page 87 of Ruined By the Ruthless Highlander
Anna grinned. She nodded her head toward Lachlan as they moved closer and said in a much lower voice, “You do not appear unwanted to me.”
The words struck deeper than Marian had expected. She did not have the chance to dwell on them, but she felt them all the same.
Her breath caught slightly as she returned to Lachlan. Her gaze lifted to meet his, and she blushed hard, Anna’s words still echoing in her head.
“Well,” he murmured. “Ye and Lady Murray certainly seem to have a lot to talk about.”
A hint of jealousy flickered across his face, and Marian’s lips twitched in excitement.
Men are not privy to ladies’ gossip.
“I agree,” she said, leaning into him as the next step of the dance brought them close again. “The Murrays are fine people.”
Lachlan’s hand remained on her lower back as the dance carried them onward, step after step, and she fell into rhythm with him. She caught herself laughing more than once, and he smiled, though his lips twitched as he tried to force it back.
Soon, the tension between them started to dissipate.
Marian forgot about the arguments, the inheritance, and the danger they both represented to one another. And by the time the music began to slow, she found herself closer to him than before.
Her breath softened as her head came to rest lightly against his chest, though his hand remained on her back.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The music played on around them, but she heard none of it. Only his heartbeat.
Lachlan’s fingers flexed slightly against her back. He did not pull her closer, but neither did he let go. Not until someone jostled past them, breaking the spell.
Marian stepped back quickly, her cheeks flushed, and Lachlan cleared his throat, his hand falling away. The music had stopped playing, and half the hall had already emptied, although she only realized it now.
“That’ll do for a first lesson,” Lachlan said gruffly.
Marian gave a slight nod. “Yes,” she muttered, turning away before he could see how red her face had turned. “Thank you, my Laird.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“The cèilidh was… lovely,” Marian commented, her fingers curling into her skirt. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and each step that carried her closer to the door felt like a drumbeat in her chest.
“Aye,” Lachlan responded.
He walked a few paces ahead of her, the muscles of his shoulders appearing stiffer as they drew further away from the Great Hall and closer to their chamber.
Cold air slipped through the narrow passage between the stone walls, brushing against her skin, but she tugged at her gloves instead, aching to pull them off to cool the heat raging within her.
The tension in the air was enough to fill the space between them.
Her breath caught once Lachlan stopped at the door.
It is happening.
Some part of her had hoped that they would just keep walking down the corridor, through another door, and into some magical arrangement of rooms where this moment would not exist.
But there were no other rooms, and she already knew that.
Lachlan pushed the door open, holding it as he waited for her to go in first.
Marian hesitated. She looked up at him, her breathing unsteady as her gaze flickered barely to his face. He did not look at her, and that, more than anything else, unsettled her.
This is it.
She swallowed before finally stepping across the threshold.
