Page 26

Davina walked back and forth across her room, her mind swirling with thoughts like leaves in a strong autumn wind.

For once, her nerves had little to do with the suitor.

Nay, she was confident the seeds of doubt she’d sown in Ewan Gordon’s mind would begin to take root.

Supper would solidify her work, and with Broderick’s insight, they’d find just the right way to hammer the final nail into the coffin of this potential match.

What truly unnerved her was the thought of Broderick himself.

Having him in her chamber set her on edge in ways she couldn’t explain.

Every time that man came near, reason abandoned her, leaving her helpless to the pull of his smoldering gaze, his commanding presence, the deep smooth register of his voice.

And if she were honest with herself, opening up to him, letting his words linger in her thoughts, had carved out an intimacy she didn’t know how to manage.

Respect. She marveled at the idea. Broderick respected her.

The realization still hit her like a blow to the chest. No man had ever granted her such a courtesy.

Not her father, nor her brother, especially not her husband.

Even the men in the village and in her household.

Yet Broderick treated her as an equal, a force to be reckoned with. It was terrifying. And thrilling.

She paused, her fingers brushing the edge of the hearth as Broderick’s words echoed in her mind.

Ye’ve no clue the power ye hold over men, lass.

He’d peeled back the veil she’d lived behind her entire life, giving her a glimpse of herself not as fragile or small, but as something fierce, something powerful.

She sank into her chair, her breath catching as the truth of it gripped her. Strength wasn’t muscle or brute force. It was cunning, confidence, and the ability to bring a man to his knees without ever lifting a finger. Could she really wield such a weapon?

A gust of wind caught the drapes by the balcony, and the air shifted. Davina’s head snapped up just as Broderick stepped into the room, moving with the silent grace of a predator. She gasped before she could stop it. He carried a storm with him, the air crackling with his presence.

His gaze swept the room, landing on her with the weight of a thousand unspoken promises. He moved toward her bed, his cloak swirling around his long legs, and he draped it across the coverlet, as though it belonged there. As though he belonged there.

“Ye did well,” he said, his voice low and rough, like velvet dragged over stone. His shoulder leaned casually against the bedpost, but his emerald gaze burned as it raked over her. “Ye’ve put doubt in the lad’s head, sure enough. Now it’s just a matter of tightenin’ the noose.”

Davina barely heard him. His voice wrapped around her, warm and inviting, and the way his eyes lingered on her made her skin prickle. She rose to her feet before she realized what she was doing, drawn to him like iron to a lodestone.

Broderick straightened, his lips curving into that maddening half-smirk. That dimple piercing his cheek adding to his damnable charm. He took a step toward her, then another, closing the distance between them with the confidence of a man who knew exactly what he was doing to her.

Yesterday, he might have intimidated her. Tonight, it set her blood aflame.

He stopped a breath away, his towering frame casting her in shadow. “So, what’s yer pla—”

Davina fisted the front of his shirt and yanked him down, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was anything but shy. His groan rolled through his chest, low and primal, and something inside her snapped . Her limbs tingled with power, as though she’d just harnessed the storm he carried.

Broderick’s firm hands gripped her waist, drawing her tightly against him. His mouth, hot and demanding, devoured her as though he was a starving man. One hand swept down to her bottom, the other to her thigh, lifting her with ease and wrapping her legs around his waist.

Her gown bunched between them, but it did little to muffle the hard length of him pressing against her core. The sensation made her gasp, and Broderick growled, his lips trailing fire down her jawline as he carried her to the bed.

The mattress sank under their weight as he leaned over her, his breath warm and uneven against her lips. His long auburn hair fell around them, forming an intimate enclave. Their eyes met, and she noticed a wild, unguarded look in his gaze.

Her fingers tightened against the fabric of his shirt. Stop, her mind screamed, but her body—her heart—ignored the warning. If this were a mistake, it was one she’d gladly make. She tunneled her fingers through the silk of his hair and tugged, dragging his mouth back to hers.

His hands slid beneath her skirt, scorching a path up her thighs until his palm cupped her bare ass.

His fingers slipped lower, finding the ache between her legs, and she inhaled sharply as he explored her with sensual, knowing strokes.

Her hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his hand, chasing a sensation that made her toes curl.

Then, just as suddenly as he’d claimed her, Broderick stilled. His head lifted, body tensed like a hunting hound catching scent.

“Someone’s comin’,” his ragged voice whispered.

Davina scrambled off the bed, hands shaking as she yanked her garments into place.

She darted to the vanity, catching a glimpse of herself—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, hair in wild disarray.

Her fingers flew, twisting her hair into some semblance of order, securing it with a comb just as the door rattled.

“Davina? Are ye all right?” Rosselyn’s voice floated through the door.

Davina turned and—

Broderick was gone. So was his cloak.

Her breath caught. How in God’s name…?

She swept a hand over the rumpled bedcovers, trying to smooth away the evidence of their tryst. Her heart still thundered, lips tingling with the ghost of his kiss. She crouched to peer under the bed—nothing. No sign. No trace. He’d vanished like mist in the morning sun.

The latch rattled again. “Davina?” Rosselyn called, more insistent this time.

Davina closed her eyes and drew a steadying breath. “Aye, Roz. Just a moment.”

She cast one last glance around the chamber before crossing the floor. She cracked the door open, schooling her features into something resembling calm.

Rosselyn stood on the threshold, brow furrowed with concern. Davina stepped aside to let her in, heart still racing.

Rosselyn’s gaze swept over her, swift and assessing. “Why was the door locked?” she asked, her tone as soft as it was curious.

Davina hesitated for a moment, then lifted her chin. “After MacLeod invaded my private space, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving it open with a suitor in the house.”

Rosselyn’s expression darkened at the mention of MacLeod’s intrusion. “Aye, you’re right, of course. I should’ve thought of that myself.” She shook her head, her voice filled with regret. “You should lock it from now on, Davina. Always.”

Davina nodded, though her mind was already drifting. Her eyes flicked around the room, searching for any trace of Broderick. A faint ripple in the balcony drapes caught her eye. Ah.

The smallest hint of his exit brought a flicker of relief—he was gone, but not far. Still, the heat of his touch lingered on her skin, the taste of his kiss clinging to her lips.

Rosselyn’s voice pulled her back. “How did it go with Ewan?”

Davina turned, managing a faint smile. “He’s very charming,” she said, keeping her tone breezy. “But we didn’t have much time to get to know one another. We’ll be supping with him this evening.”

“So, Broderick wasn’t helpful?”

Davina shrugged, lingering near the door to keep Rosselyn’s back to the balcony. “As I said, we didn’t have much time with him, but I will say having him around is comforting. He keeps the men on their best behavior. We’ll see what supper uncovers.”

Rosselyn nodded, her hands folding neatly in front of her. “Well, the preparations are well underway. Tammus made sure we’ve included all his favorites.”

“Thank you.” Davina smiled.

“Will you be needing anything else?” Rosselyn asked.

Davina pressed a hand to her temple, feigning a touch of weariness. “I’ve a headache starting. I think I’ll lie down for a bit.”

“Shall I bring you some tea?”

“Nay, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Rosselyn pecked a quick kiss to Davina’s cheek and excused herself.

Davina latched the door behind her and leaned back against it, exhaling a long, shaky breath. Her fingers drifted to her lips, brushing where his had been.

She turned and her breath caught in her chest. Lounging in a chair by the hearth was Broderick, as though he’d never left.

His long legs stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles. His fingers laced behind his head, pulling the fabric of his shirt taut over his broad chest. His dark auburn hair glinted in the firelight, and his emerald eyes were locked on her, burning with a heat that made her stomach flip.

“Did ye miss me, lass?” he drawled, his deep voice dripping with amusement.

Davina swallowed hard and lifted her chin, crossing the room to sit opposite him. She laced her hands in her lap—her best attempt at composure.

“Ye surprised me a bit.” He drew his bottom lip between his teeth, and Davina imagined herself nibbling on that mouth. “Have I unleashed a beast within ye? ”

“Perhaps I thought you deserved a taste of your own remedy,” she said, her tone edgier than she felt.

Broderick chuckled, though the sound lacked its usual ease. His foot fidgeted, swaying side to side. His steady facade was cracking, and the sight of it sent a thrill through her.

“Now you know what it’s like to be hunted,” she added with a lift of her chin.

“I welcome it,” his deep voice intoned, sending a delightful shudder across her breasts.