Page 51 of Love Bomb

“Did you get any drinks?” she asked Bain, who was staring at her strangely.

“I don’t believe this,” he said, sounding strangled. “You really don’t have a bra on.”

In perfect unison, every MacGregor stared at her bust.

Rona resisted the urge to fold her arms. “Eyes off the goods!” she snapped instead.

Everyone, except Bain, had the good grace to blush and do as they were told. Bain kept staring.

“Put your jumper back on,” he ordered.

“No.” She reached into the neck of her shirt and pulled out a bra strap.

Like her T-shirt, it was pink. Unlike her T-shirt, the bra didn’t have a picture of Garfield right across the front of it.

He frowned at the proof she wore underwear. “You need a better bra,” he declared.

Rona felt wicked. “Wanna take me shopping for one?”

She’d asked him the same question when she’d turned thirteen and decided she needed her first bra—not that she’d had anything to put in it at the time. Bain had been horrified at the thought of taking her shopping for underwear.

This time he looked intrigued. His blue eyes darkened, and she wished she could read his mind. Then, when his eyes dropped back to the front of her shirt, and he cocked an eyebrow in consideration, she decided she already knew what was in his head. She felt herself flush and Bain looked amused.

“It was lovely to see Darren,” she said sweetly, just to wind him up. “I remember him from school. He was always really nice to me back then.” She bet he would be even nicer to her now, given half a chance.

Bain took the bait. “Stay away from him,” he ordered. “He goes through women like tissues.”

“Ew, yuk,” Rona said, as Conall choked on an onion ring.

Darach thumped his back, looking thoroughly entertained.

There was movement beside her and she glanced up to find another former schoolmate smiling down at her.

“Peter,” she said, genuinely pleased to see him. He’d always picked her first when they played sport together. He’d told her she had killer instincts.

“Rona,” he gushed. “It’s so great to see you. And you look fantastic.”

His eyes strayed downward. Maybe Bain was right, and she needed a more robust bra.

“It’s good to see you too,” she said. “What are you up to these days?”

“Accountant,” he said. “I live up in Fort William, but I couldn’t miss the Burn’s Day cèilidh. Are you dancing?”

“No!” Bain snapped before she could reply. “Not with you.”

To her bewilderment, he shackled one of her wrists in his big hand and hauled her out of her seat. His attention was still on Peter, who looked like he didn’t know whether to run or wet himself.

“She’s dancing with me,” Bain declared. “She’s dancing all the dances with me. Spread the word.”

Peter nodded furiously and Bain looked satisfied.

Then, he dragged her onto the dance floor. Rona glanced back to see his brothers fall about laughing. Then the morons tucked into her food.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Rona was killing him, and Bain suspected it was deliberate.

He’d hauled her onto the dance floor to keep her away from the circling predators, but he’d forgotten the dances were group events, full of men who could leer at her. Or worse still, touch her.