Grannie Ava gave Violet a conniving smile.
Anyone seeing that shared look would have assumed they were plotting something devious and not an innocuous wedding.
“It seems that’s all that gets done during the day. Are ye going to take up the night for that also?” Ruaridh felt salty.
He knew Violet hadn’t purposely ignored his invitation. Grannie Ava must have dragged her from her bedroom because the old woman had not experienced enough weddings during her lifetime!
He needed his daughter and grandmother to retire instantly, so he might inspect the accessibility of the chemise Violet had hidden beneath her robe.
Grannie Ava rose with a sigh. “Ye heard yer faither, Keira.” She held out her hand to the little girl. “We have been dismissed.”
Keira begrudgingly took the outstretched hand and let her lead her out of the room.
When she passed him, Ruaridh heard a concerning whisper, which he decided he would investigate when the sun had risen.
The door closed, and then he was left alone with Violet.
She rose from her seat, and they stared at one another, awkward in their want.
“Good evening.” Her voice was breathless.
“Good evenin’.” His voice was breathless, too. “I was lookin’ for ye.”
“What for?”
She knew what for!
What was he going to tell her? That he had fantasized about looking up and down her body and had come to her bedroom to feast his eyes? That he needed her? That he missed her?
He took the coward’s way out and said, “Never mind. Let me walk ye to yer room.”
He had learned that she liked it when he offered her his arm, and he quickly realized her grip on his bicep was an awful decision when his breeches tightened.
“Are you dismissing me, too?”
“It’s quite awkward now. I want to find the perfect time to kiss ye along the way.”
She laughed, and his cock jerked. His body could no longer distinguish between sounds of felicity and sounds of pleasure, it seemed.
He had to think of a topic to keep from bursting.
“Is yer faither one to get lost?” He felt himself deflate.
She furrowed her brow. Slowly, with warranted uncertainty, she responded, “My father might be timid, but he is very intelligent.”
Ruaridh had wanted to hear the opposite, a different response that would validate her father’s suspicious behavior. He did not want to investigate him, for it felt like a betrayal to her. What if Logan was proven wrong? How would he explain himself to Violet?
“Good to hear.”
She was quiet the rest of the way, perhaps recalling their intimacy last night or anticipating the encounter once they reached her room.
Ruaridh was not sure he would be able to keep his promises. Both the promise to claim her on their wedding night and the promise he communicated to her through his eyes.
If he crossed the threshold of her room, he was sure of what he would do. He wanted to make love to her. He wanted to lie atop her and sink into her wetness. He wanted to thrust in and out of her. He wanted her clinging to him, panting hard as she begged him not to stop. He needed her. Hiscockneeded her.
“We are here.”
They stood outside her door. She pressed her back against it and held him away, as if she could feel his apprehension. Or did she not want to invite him in? She was still a chaste woman, after all.
