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‘What happens in the Highlands stays in the Highlands,’ she murmurs.
Yes, fuck, yes. Listen to her. Screw your conscience. She wants you. You’ve never been a saint, so why now? Why with her?
But I know why.
I take her hand and fling her out, encouraging her to twirl beneath our fingers above her head and remember too late my predicament down below. Panic, a surge of colour to my cheeks, and I’m yanking her back just as swiftly. Her length comes up hard against my body, her palms too, as she gives a flirtatious giggle.
‘Miss me?’
‘You could say that,’ I grind out, relieved that my kilt is back in place, not so relieved that she’s overpowering me anew.
Christ, if you do it, maybe you can move on from this impossible attraction.
Hell, maybe she’ll move on and then it will no longer be an issue.
Yes, take her to bed, give her a glimpse of the real you, and it should see her run a mile.
Because if she knew me—the real me—if she knew what had gone before, this wouldn’t be up for debate. Not that I’ll tell her. That’s my cross to bear and mine alone.
But a night, one night so far away from home—
‘Excuse me, Black, may I have this dance?’
I still at the plummy-toned intrusion. It’s Philip. Philip Lauren, Coco’s brother. I flick him a look that takes in his hand on my shoulder and he snaps it back.
‘I think you’ll find it’s the Best Man’s duty, Lauren.’
I struggle to hide the contempt in my voice, but loyalty is everything to me and he has yet to earn any of mine. Coco may have forgiven him. Hell, Ash too. But me... I’m not so easily won around. Not when the guy tried to destroy his own sister’s reputation less than two years ago and managed to tap a hole in the protective shield I have in place over my club, Blacks. He crossed too big a line for me.
I release Caitlin but my arm wraps around her waist—merely a protective gesture, of course, nothing more—and I’m grateful that Philip’s presence works its magic below my waist.
‘Of course.’ Caitlin speaks before I can respond, and I lift my brow as I look down at her. He can’t have won her around too. There’s no way. Caitlin is as fiercely protective of Coco as I am. ‘I was clearly wasting my time here,’ she murmurs, and then a hardness creeps into her gaze. ‘I know when I’m not wanted... Come on, Philip, let’s show them how it’s really done.’
Philip sends me a questioning look, his hesitation clear. He wants to know if he’s stepped in, if I’m real competition.
My lips quirk up. I should make it clear I’m not. But it seems my body’s less eager to let her go and I want to make him nervous. I tower over him three or four inches at least, and I train daily; I know I’d make light work of him. He knows it too, judging by the way he wriggles his cravat and clears his throat. Good.
But then Cait hooks her arm into his and moves out of my hold.
I watch Philip take my place, watch his hands fall to her hips and I clench my jaw tight. I don’t do jealousy, nothing close. It was carved into me from the ripe old age of sixteen not to bother with the idiotic sentiment. But as I burn a hole into the dancefloor beneath their feet, I acknowledge I feel far more than I should. I also know it has nothing to do with Philip’s shady past and everything to do with my feelings for her.
Hell, even with Philip’s past, he’s better for her than me.
I spin away and head to the bar.
You’re dark and twisted. She’s light and kind. You don’t belong together.
Maybe she and Philip...
My fists ball at my sides.
Over my dead body.
