“Kiss me,” he breathed.
Her breath hitched, but she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
Mistake,his mind screamed as the heat of her kiss seared him, chased every thought from his consciousness, her sweet citrus scent flooding his senses.
There was no sense in flicking the tip of his tongue against the seam of her lips, savoring the thrill when they parted the barest amount, but sense had no place between them now. Want, hot and untamed, roared through him, and the arm around her waist tightened.
A gasp escaped her throat, barely audible through the pounding in his ears, and then the honk—
Ahonk?
Violet sat up and tilted her head as the intruder stepped into view. “Cygnus?”
Callum stared in disbelief as he narrowed his arms around her. “That’s nae a swan. It’s a goose.”
“Regardless, what is it doing here?”
The fowl was larger than any goose he’d ever seen, its spindly legs straining to carry its heft. It waddled forward, keeping the pair of them in its beady gaze.
“He’s making me nervous,” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.
“Why do ye think it’s ahe?”
“I made an assumption, now can you get rid of it?”
The masculine need to protect flooded his nerves, although he felt ridiculous puffing out his chest at the bird’s approach. Surely he could best agoose. Callum cleared his throat and raised his voice. “Go on, goose!”
Apparently geese could glare, because this one narrowed its eyes and came closer.
“Go on! Go away!”
“That’s the best you can do?” Violet’s fingers dug into his shoulders.
He scowled at her as fear prickled at his neck, then waved his free arm in a shooing motion. “Go away, goose!”
Instead of fleeing in terror, the beast fluffed its feathers and extended its snowy wings, then released a screeching honk.
“That didn’t work!” Violet whimpered.
“I can see that.” Although he outweighed and could likely—he hoped—outsmart the goose, his heart was racing. He wrapped his arms more tightly around her.
The goose honked again and waddled forward, snapping at the air.
She pulled her feet up onto his thighs. “What do we do?”
When the bird did not pause in its advance, Callum shot to his feet and lifted her, clutching her tight to his chest. She had trusted him to take care of her during their ruination charade, and while that responsibility didn’t extend to attacks by poultry, he wasn’t about to let something happen to her. “Don’t look at it,” he boomed.
“Why? If I don’t look, I won’t be able to see when it bites me!”
Callum took one step back and his thigh hit the bench. Trapped. His hold on Violet tightened as he prepared to fight; if this goose was going to hurt her, it would have to get through him first.
A voice rang out in the darkness. “Kevin? Is that you?”
They froze and, much to Callum’s shock, the goose turned toward the speaker.
“Kevin?” Violet whimpered.
Bridget burst into the garden and planted her hands on her hips when she saw the fowl beast. “What has gotten into you, Kevin?”
