Page 51 of Under the Laird’s Promise

"Dawn then," she said quietly.

"Dawn."

The next morning arrived too soon and too bright, hauling Tavish from dreams that featured Maighread in far less clothing than propriety allowed. He dressed quickly, ignoring the way his body had responded to those images, and headed toward the storage areas, where preparations continued.

He found Maighread already there, balanced precariously on a stool while reaching fer something stored on a high shelf. The sight made his chest tighten with equal parts admiration and terror.

"What are ye daeing?" he called.

She glanced down, startled by his voice. "Getting the good saddlebags. The ones that dinnae leak when it rains."

"By climbing furniture like some kind of deranged cat?"

"The stool's perfectly stable." As if to prove him wrong, she stretched higher, fingers brushing leather that remained stubbornly out of reach.

The stool wobbled.

Tavish moved without thinking, crossing the space in three long strides just as the damned thing tipped sideways. Maighread gasped, arms windmilling, and then she was falling straight toward him.

He caught her easily, hands closing around her waist as momentum carried her into his chest. The impact drove air from his lungs, but he held firm, keeping them both upright through sheer stubborn refusal to let her hit the ground.

"Got ye," he managed, voice rougher than intended.

Maighread's hands had flown to his shoulders, gripping tight. Her face was inches from his, could feel her breath against his mouth, could smell lavender and something uniquely her that made his head swim.

"Ye caught me," she said unnecessarily.

"Aye." His hands were still on her waist, thumbs resting against her ribs where he could feel each rapid breath. "Might want tae stop climbing things."

"Aye?" Her voice had gone breathless, and she hadn't moved away. Hadn't released his shoulders or stepped back to proper distance. Just stayed there, suspended against him with heat building between them like summer lightning.

Tavish's gaze dropped to her mouth before he could stop himself. "Ye're playing with fire, lass."

"Am I?"

"Aye. Standing this close, looking at me like that." His thumbs traced small circles against her ribs, feeling how her breath hitched at the contact. "Makes a man think things he shouldn't be thinking in a storage room where anyone could walk in."

"What kind of things?" The question came soft, almost shy, completely at odds with the bold challenge in her eyes.

"Things I shouldn't be thinking about me betrothed before we're properly wed." A slight smile tugged at his mouth. "Things that prove I'm nae nearly as honorable as I pretend tae be."

Pink flooded her cheeks, spreading down her throat in a way that made him want to trace the path with his mouth. "Tavish."

"Aye?"

"We're in a storage room."

"I'm aware."

"Anyone could walk in."

"Also aware."

"And we're supposed tae be preparing fer a dangerous trip intae contested territory."

"Extremely aware." His hands flexed against her waist, pulling her fractionally closer. "Daesnae change what I'm thinking about daeing tae ye if ye dinnae step back in the next three seconds."

She swallowed hard, throat working. "What if I dinnae want tae step back?"