The Great Scot. Donna Kauffman

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СКАЧАТЬ and make a mad dash for the exit, but Kat was motioning her to come over to where she and Dylan stood, and before she could decide for herself, the crowd nudged her forward. “Yes?” she said, spying Dylan in her peripheral vision and deciding now was really not a good time for her nipples to go painfully hard, but there they were, right at attention. What was it about that man anyway?

       What wasn’t it about him? her little voice offered. He stood there scowling in his T-shirt and jeans, but he might as well have been wearing the plaid with a clay-more strapped to his hip for all he exuded the whole rogue highlander thing. She really had to get a grip. She turned her head and focused exclusively on Kat, who, she belatedly noticed, hadn’t missed a thing in Erin’s momentary little distraction. Even scarier, she smiled. Broadly.

      “Okay, do-over it is,” she announced, quite jovially. She turned her laser beam smile on Erin. “But you’ll stay.” She nudged her a step or two closer to Dylan. “Right there.” She smiled very prettily up at Dylan, but only a fool would take that as a sign of friendship and goodwill. “You don’t mind, do ye now?”

      It was as if the entire room took a breath and held it. Only when Dylan nodded, once, did the tension ebb, if only for a moment. “Ladies first,” he announced.

      And just the sound of that voice sent a little tingle of awareness through Erin that only served to keep her body on point. Two of them, to be exact. She folded her arms across her chest, then realized she was still holding her ale. She impulsively chugged the rest of it and set the empty glass down on one of the tall tables lining the wall behind them. She tried to shrink back slightly, out of the center-of-attention spot, but Kat was having none of it.

      “It was all quite amusing when you thought to distract me with my charming husband here. Well, two can play at that. Erin, be a darling and stay directly in Dylan’s line of vision for me.”

      From the instant reaction of the crowd, it was easy to understand what kind of distraction they wanted her to provide. Completely nonplussed, Erin automatically pointed at herself. “Me?” Had they not actually looked at her? She was hardly eye candy material. Her gaze tracked to Dylan, completely without her authority, but he looked neither nonplussed nor repulsed. In fact, it was hard to tell what he was thinking. So what else was new?

      The crowd was chanting her name now and she saw her entire career taking a fast nosedive in the middle of Nowhere, Scotland. Why hadn’t she stayed in London? Why?

      Seemingly satisfied with the situation, Kat took her darts, very lovingly handed to her by her husband, who then proceeded to hold her around the waist, dip her back over his arm and kiss her deeply, much to the delight of the villagers. Kat swatted him when he set her upright again, but the pink in her cheeks and the twinkle in her eye belied her annoyance. Erin sighed a little inside. They were wonderful together.

      Then, very swiftly, and with deadly precision, Kat buried both of her darts dead center on the board. She curtsied to Dylan, then snagged her husband, pushed him back against the nearest pool table and returned his earlier favor. Of course, it ended with her smacking his hands away as he tried to pull her up onto the table. Everyone was laughing, tankards were raised and more rounds of ale poured.

      And then it was Dylan’s turn.

      She was jostled closer to him, brushing up against his arm before moving back. She looked up at him and mouthed, “I’m sorry,” hoping he understood it was for all of it, not just the inadvertent contact. He held her gaze for what seemed like an eternity. Erin spent the next couple seconds being partly terrified and mostly ridiculously turned on, wondering if they were supposed to somehow match Brodie and Kat’s antics. But just when another hush was starting to descend over the crowd, Dylan merely stepped past her and planted himself on the hash mark branded into the wooden pub flooring. Part of the crowd began chanting her name, the other half tried to shush them. Apparently they weren’t sure how far to push their fearless leader, either.

      All she knew was that she should have stayed in her hotel room.

      She watched as Dylan, with absolutely steady hands, tossed both darts in quick succession, knocking one of Kat’s darts to the floor and pinning the board right next to the other one. A cheer went up as both Dylan and Kat looked to Brodie, who, in turn, looked at Erin. Who took the coward’s way out and shrugged. It was smart business, she told herself.

      “Where did you learn to throw like that, anyway?” Brodie wanted to know from Dylan.

      “They do have pubs in Edinburgh, you know.”

      “Of course, I do. I just never thought you spent time in any of them.”

      There was a slight gathering of breath amongst the natives, and Erin wondered why that would be a touchy subject. Certainly Brodie didn’t really think it was a betrayal for his brother to patronize other pubs. Clearly he was kidding, anyway. Every word out of Brodie’s mouth was accompanied by that charming smile of his. She found her gaze drawn back to Dylan, much like a tennis match. Ball in his court.

      “You’d have been surprised then.” He glanced at the dartboard and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a rather mischievous light entered his eyes, if only briefly. “Clearly.”

      Laughter filled the warm room and some halfhearted calls for Brodie to claim a winner resumed.

      Brodie and Kat began to debate the rules, encouraging the villagers to good-naturedly chant for more, but before it could go any further, Dylan raised his hand and said, “I think I’ve caused enough of a stir.” He sketched a short bow. “I appreciate your support, especially against such an engaging and worthy opponent.”

      Kat struck an exaggerated curtsy, which looked all the more incongruous given that she was still in her mechanic’s overalls, and tankards of ale were lifted all around once again amidst continued chatter.

      “Surely somebody has a fiddle.” This from Alastair. “I say we work off this collective energy with some dancing!”

      Erin instinctively took a step toward the door. She knew she should stay, her mission was far from complete, but she was happy at the moment to end the evening with a chance to continue her pursuit another day. She didn’t understand the politics at play here and it would be wise to step back and regroup before making another move. She still had every intention of leasing Glenshire, but she was smart enough to know she had, at best, one more shot at it, then it was game over. And there had been enough game playing tonight as it was.

      She turned, looking for Alastair, thinking it was only polite to let him know she was leaving, as their chat earlier had been aborted by the dart game, only to find herself swung around by the arm as music filled the warm, yeasty-smelling air. “Come on, lass!”

      “But I don’t know how—”

      The rest of her protest was swallowed up, as was she, by the sea of bodies she was tugged into. She had no idea who her partner was, other than he was middle-aged, nice enough looking, hopefully patient. And wearing solid shoes.

      He spun her expertly through the crowd and when she finally got her bearings, she realized it was an organized line dance of sorts. Then she noticed the looks everyone was giving each other, little smiles of anticipation or something. Almost like everyone was in on some secret except for—“Oh!”

      She’d paused a beat too long when she spun through the last turn and found herself unexpectedly flat up against a very hard male chest. She knew who it was before she met his gaze. Or her body knew, anyway. “Sorry,” she choked out.

      He’d СКАЧАТЬ