Page 33 of My Highland Bride

When he splays a hand on my lower back, the fingers of his other hand wrap around my hand. I’ve danced this way many times, but never, not once, have I felt this way. This is no simple dance.

We both sense as much, I think.

The sleeve of my dress falls, revealing the lower part of my arm. He looks at it, as if imagining what else it might reveal, then glances up at my face. Erik’s eyes, hooded and piercing, so much more serious than his usual jovial look, bore into my own.

“So you enjoy poetry still.”

“Aye.”

“You adored your tutor, from what I recall.”

“He was like a second brother to me.”

“Was?”

“He left Blackwell the year after Fara died. It had become a different sort of place, for a time. Her absence weighed heavily on all. Also, Warin and I could read and write easily by then. He traveled to the Borderlands first, and then into Meria.”

Although it is unusual for someone from Edingham to live across the border, and the same is true for Merians, some people travel where work takes them, either out of necessity or wanderlust, even across the Terese River, the natural border between our kingdoms.

“And I do some writing of my own,” I blurt.

Erik smiles. “What do you write?”

That is something I do not wish to reveal.

“I cannot say.”

“Hmmm. Cannot.” He spins me around in a dramatic fashion, and some begin to stare. “Or will not?”

His hand is warm against my back. “They are watching us.”

Erik leans into me and whispers into my ear. “They are watching you. You are a beautiful woman, Reyne.”

Spinning me around again, he does not allow me to respond. But as the dance begins to slow, he looks me in the eyes once again.

“I have a proposal for you.”

I make a sound in my throat. He laughs aloud at the most unladylike noise. I attempt to purse my lips together, as if I am still angry, but it fails.

I should be.

I want to be.

But Erik Stokerton is making it very difficult with his easy smiles and flirty behavior.

“Give me more than one eve. Give me the tournament to win your hand, with your full knowledge of what I seek.”

“But I’ve told you . . .”

“You’ve told me you will not marry a man who loves another. And yet, I’ve not confessed to doing so. You judge me without knowing me, but I’d not begrudge you that, as I’ve wronged you sorely as well. Give me these ten days. If, when the melee is over, you wish to never see me again, then you return home to Blackwell, and I shall become nothing more than a memory.”

I despise how little I want that very thing.

“But if, at the end of the tourney, I’ve convinced you that an alliance between us would be desirable not just to our families but both of us, then we will marry.”

I begin to object when he stops me.

“Marriages have been forged on much less than two neighbors joining their lands and two people who very clearly desire each other.”