Around her, the party got into full swing, but Elise felt as though her feet were glued to the spot. She saw his nostrils flare, his jaw clench, and then he was striding towards her, crossing the space between them in just a few easy strides.
He stopped less than a hand’s span away. She had to crane her head back to look up at him. His lips parted slightly, and she heard the hiss of his escaping breath as he gazed down at her. His chest heaved and his fingers curled into fists as though he were deliberately stopping himself from reaching for her.
He cleared his throat. “Lady Elise MacFinnan,” he said formally, his voice low and edged with an undercurrent of something that made her skin tingle. “May I have this dance?”
Elise swallowed thickly. This was a bad idea. She’d been avoiding him for a reason. Whenever he was near, her commonsense flew right out of the window—just as it was doing now. She should leave.
But she found herself nodding.
Jamie took her hand, his grip warm and strong, and led her into the spinning rhythm of the dance. Around them, laughter and shouts echoed through the courtyard, but Jamie’s focus never left her. She followed his lead, moving through the steps without really noticing what she was doing.
“You shouldn’t be dancing with me,” she said. “People are staring. They’ll talk.”
His eyes never left her face. “Let them. The laird and the MacFinnan spellweaver. No doubt they are discussing what a fine match we make.”
That stole her breath for a second—long enough that she missed a step, her foot slipping in the dirt. Jamie caught her before she fell, his arm firm around her waist.
“Careful,” he murmured. “Ye’ll make folk think I’m a poor partner.”
“Maybe you are.”
He smiled—faintly, ruefully. “Aye. Maybe I am.”
Their next turn brought them face to face again. The drum quickened, the fiddles rising to a fevered pitch. Around them, dancers laughed and shouted, spinning faster, clothes swirling. Jamie’s hand found hers again, strong and sure, pulling her into step with him.
The world blurred into color and motion. She could smell the smoke from the bonfire, the salt from the sea, the faint scent ofwhisky on his breath when he leaned close to guide her through a turn.
For a moment—just one—she let herself forget. Forget that he was promised to another. Forget that she was never meant to stay here. Forget everything except the pulse of the dance, the pull of his hand, the way his gaze found hers every time they turned.
“Ye have been avoiding me,” he said softly.
There was no point denying it. “Are you surprised?”
He winced. “No. I didnae mean for things to turn out this way.”
Was he talking about their kiss? Or his upcoming engagement?
“I had hoped…I want…” His voice faltered. He shook his head, his eyes full of anguish. “I’m sorry, Elise. Hurting ye is the last thing I would ever want to do. I just wish…”
“You wish what?” Despite herself, Elise found herself leaning into him, bringing her face so close to his she could feel his breath on her cheek.
“Ye know what I wish,” he said so softly she could barely hear him. “And ye know I canna have it.” His gaze met hers, hot and intense. “No matter how much I want it.”
The music swelled to its peak, then stopped suddenly. Laughter and applause filled the courtyard.
They came to a stop but Jamie still held her hand, their fingers tangled together as if not quite ready to let go.
“Thank ye for the dance,” he said softly. “I didnae deserve it. But thank ye all the same.”
He released her hand and took a step back, bowing slightly. The firelight threw his shadow long across the courtyard, stretching towards her like something she couldn’t quite reach.
“Goodnight, Lady MacFinnan.”
Then he was gone, slipped into the crowd like a shadow, leaving Elise staring after.
Chapter Thirteen
Jamie couldn’t sleep.
