Page 50 of Love Bomb

He glanced toward the dance floor, only to see Rona bouncing around—and her full breasts bouncing in a different direction. He frowned. Was she even wearing a bra? Then he spotted Darren staring at her chest and rage raised its ugly head. He had a sudden vision of himself removing the guy’s eyes with a spoon.

“I’ve got to go,” he told Sandra. “The results of the paternity test should be through soon and this will all be sorted.”

“Bain,” she called after him. “You can’t abandon your baby!”

Great, now he was getting dirty looks from everyone who’d heard. There was no point protesting his innocence. The music was too loud for him to be heard properly, and nobody would believe him anyway. The curse of his reputation tended to render folk deaf.

He frowned as he watched Darren spin Rona around. She threw back her head and laughed as another dancer caught her and took his turn to spin her. All the while, Darren Bloody Shaw drooled. His eyes never straying from Rona’s backside, or her jiggly boobs. You could practically read his mind as he watched her. And none of it was good.

Darren Shaw had singled Rona out as his next conquest.

And that would happen over Bain’s dead body.

As the musicians played feverishly, Bain stepped into the round and hooked arms with a shocked Darren. Bain smiled. Not the kind of smile that encouraged pleasantries. But the kind you saw just before a madman gutted you. Darren’s eyes went wide. And Bain spun him out into the crowd, with a tad more force than necessary, before calmly taking his place in the group.

When the dance brought Rona back around to face him, she was surprised to find him there instead of her original partner.

“Where’s Darren?” she asked, panting a little.

Bain hoped her breathlessness was from exertion and not from her former dance partner. Because, if it was the latter, he’d have to blow the man up.

“He’s gone. No stamina.” Bain took her in his arms. You’ve got me now.”

“Well, I suppose you’ll have to do,” she said, not sounding particularly thrilled.

Bain didn’t care. He had more important issues to address. “Are you even wearing a bra?” he demanded.

She looked startled, then a wicked glint lit up her eyes. “What’s it to you?” the demon asked before spinning away.

With a growl of frustration, Bain followed.

Rona was having a blast.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. Sure, she’d visited a nightclub once or twice over the years and had experienced plenty of tame school discos. But nothing compared to the wild exuberance of a Scottish cèilidh.

She wasn’t sure what made it so thrilling. Maybe it was the age range in the room—everyone from grandparents to their grandkids were present. Or the crazy set dances that everyone learned in school, then promptly forgot, only to trip over the steps with enthusiasm later in life. It could have been the live music, with its esoteric mix of violin and drum. Or just the sheer joy on the faces of everyone present. Whatever it was, there was nothing like a cèilidh.

Just being there had lifted her mood so much that she’d almost forgotten the hurt Bain had thoughtlessly inflicted in the folly. Now, she just felt sorry for him. The poor guy was utterly thrown by her appearing on his doorstep as a fully-formed woman. He had no idea what to do with her, so he kept falling back on the habits of his teenage years.

As was evidenced by his current behavior.

Bain was in protector mode. It would have been adorable if it wasn’t cramping her style.

“Ready for some food?” he asked as they joined hands for the dance.

Rona was torn between dancing and eating, but in the end her belly made the decision for her. “I could eat,” she said.

She let him lead her back to their table, where a grumpy teen, dressed head-to-toe in black, stood with a tray full of food.

Darach pointed at the youth. “He won’t put it down, or let us touch it, until you give him his phone back.”

Rona plopped into her chair, still out of breath, as Bain dug a phone and five pounds out of his pocket and handed it to the teen. The boy put the tray down to take it.

“Well done,” Bain told him. “You lasted twenty minutes without your phone.”

With a sullen glare, the boy disappeared into the crowd.

Rona shirked off her sweater before falling on the onion rings.