Page 71 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

"Aye." He spun her again, this time pulling her even closer when she came back to him. Close enough that anyone watching would know exactly how he felt about his wife. "But I'm findin' I dinnae care much about bein' careful anymore."

The music shifted, becoming something slower, more intimate. Around them, couples drew together, the hall's energy changing from celebration to something headier.

Elinor's hand slid from his shoulder to the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. "We're supposed to be maintaining appearances."

"We are." His thumb traced circles at her waist. "What better appearance than a husband who cannae keep his hands off his wife?"

"That's not—we have rules."

"In private. We have rules in private." He leaned closer, his lips nearly brushing her ear. "Right now, we're very much in public. Which means I can touch ye all I want."

He felt her shiver. "You're using technicalities again."

"I'm very good at technicalities."

"I've noticed."

They moved together, the space between them shrinking with each step until there was barely any space at all. David could feel the rapid rise and fall of her breathing, could see the flush spreading across her skin.

Around them, the crowd erupted in cheers and whistles, but David barely heard it. All he could focus on was Elinor and the softness of her lips, the way she gasped against his shoulders, the feeling of her fingers tightening on his hands, and the feel of her waist.

When he finally pulled back from the dance, they were both breathing hard.

"That was..." she started.

"Necessary," he finished. "Fer appearances."

"Right. For appearances." But the way she looked at him suggested it had been more than that.

Much more.

Before David could say anything else, before he could pull her close again and damn the entire celebration, someone cleared their throat loudly behind them.

"Excuse me, me laird. Me lady."

Elinor stepped back quickly, her cheeks flaming as she turned to find an older woman grinning at them.

"I hate tae interrupt," the woman said, clearly not hating it at all, "but there's some folks who'd like tae meet Lady Elinor, if ye can spare her fer a bit."

David wanted to say no. Wanted to keep Elinor in his arms for the rest of the night. But he forced himself to release her, stepping back to give her space.

"Of course," Elinor said, her voice only slightly breathless.

She glanced back at him as the woman led her away, and the look in her eyes made David's chest tight.

David stood alone on the dance floor for a moment, trying to collect himself. Trying to remember how to breathe normally. Trying to ignore the fact that everyone was watching him with knowing smiles.

Tristan appeared at his elbow again. "So. That was subtle."

"Shut up."

"I'm just sayin', if ye wanted people tae ken ye're attracted tae yer wife, mission accomplished."

"I said shut up."

"Aye, me laird." But Tristan was grinning. "Though ye might want tae compose yerself before ye try tae mingle. Ye look like ye're about tae chase her down and finish what ye started."

David shot him a look that would have made lesser men flee. Tristan just laughed.