Electrifying in a Kilt (Hot Scots #16)

Prologue

Iona Six Months Ago

Couples float across the floor in the great hall, enjoying a chance to flaunt their dancing talent or just shuffle along, not caring if they aren't light-footed. Valentine's Day has never been my favorite holiday, and I always do my best to avoid this time of year. Some might say I avoid it like the proverbial plague. Watching everyone else couple up and get lovey-dovey makes me feel...unwanted. I know that's ridiculous. Plenty of people love me---my family and friends, naturally. I've never made any enemies, as far as I know. A journalist will inevitably annoy some people, but I've always treated the subjects of my stories with respect.

Aye, everyone likes me.

But tonight, I wish I could just hide in a closet or become invisible. Why? Because I've been roped into attending the Valentine's Day bash organized by my brother Thane and his new sweetheart, Rebecca Taylor. I'm thrilled for Thane. He's waited a very long time to find the right woman, and Rebecca has quickly become one of my best friends.

How long will Thane and Rebecca wait before they try to set me up with someone? I expect that to happen at any moment. I wrap my arms around myself, lean against the wall, and listen to the music. My vision retreats into my mind. I hear the songs, but I don't pay attention to anything else as the minutes tick by.

Evan MacTaggart approaches me. "Iona, would you care to dance?"

I hunch my shoulders and shake my head. "Thank you, Evan, that's very sweet. But I'd rather be an observer. It's my journalist nature to watch and not participate."

Evan seems vaguely disappointed, but he walks away and finds his wife, Keely, among the crowd. They begin to dance and laugh.

Maybe I should try harder to enjoy this event. But I cannae muster any enthusiasm for...anything.

The hairs at my nape lift. A journalist needs finely honed intuition, and mine just spiked. Oh, aye, someone is coming toward me. It's Thane, and I have a strong suspicion about his intentions.

Who will he set me up with tonight? I see Sorley MacKechnie among the crowd, hovering at the periphery. His partner, Fergus MacRae, is here too. Thane strode past the two constables and took the time to chat with them briefly. Fergus grinned at whatever my brother said. Did Thane suggest Fergus should coax me onto the dance floor? It wouldn't surprise me at all.

I'll make a polite excuse for why I don't want to dance.

Thane stalks around the periphery of the great hall until he reaches me. "Iona, why aren't you dancing? You love a good ceilidh."

I try to remain placid, but my whole face begins to tighten. "Dinnae feel like dancing, Thane. I'm the only one here who doesn't have a significant other."

"Eric Taylor is single too."

"Aye, but he's almost twenty years younger than I am." Does Thane honestly believe I want to dance with a much younger man? His girlfriend's son? Bod an Donais .

My brother leans against the wall beside me. "What's really bothering you about this ceilidh?"

I look at Thane and bluster out a sigh. "It's a ball, Thane, not a ceilidh."

"Well, it all sounds like the same thing to me." He tips his head down to stare into my eyes as if he believes that will make me do what he wants. "You haven't answered my question. What's really fashing you?"

"I'm old, that's what fashes me. I'm well into my forties, and no man wants to date me because I have two children. The fact that they're adopted only turns men off even more." Why on earth did I spout all that rubbish? I rub my neck and gaze out at the dance floor. "Besides, I'm a nosy journalist. Men like that even less. I might as well hang a shingle on my front door that says 'old maid lives here, run away now.' "

"Ramsay isn't married anymore. Dinnae see him standing in a corner having a self-pity party." Thane commandeers my hand and hauls me away from the wall. "Come with me, Iona."

He maintains his iron grip on my hand while he stalks onto the dance floor.

I dig my heels in, refusing to budge. "Leave me alone, Thane."

"Cannae do that." He tosses me over his shoulder. "If you won't cooperate, I'll make the decision for you."

Thane marches across the floor, forcing other people to scatter to get out of the way, and halts in front of one man. Then he sets me down. "Iona needs a dance partner. Eric, would you care to escort my sister round the floor?"

What did I say to Thane a moment ago? I don't want to dance with a man who's half my age. Did my brother listen? Of course not. I have half a mind to flee as fast as I can. Dating is not on my agenda, and neither is dancing with Eric Taylor. He's a sweet laddie, but not my type.

Eric flicks his gaze between my brother and me, then he offers his hand. "Come on, let's have some fun. I bet you're a great dancer. I noticed you're very graceful when you're walking around."

Thane smirks as if he's dead certain Eric is the one for me.

But it isn't Eric's fault that my brother has become the nosiest, most interfering person in the whole of Scotland.

While Thane walks away, I accept Eric's hand. He leads me out into the middle of the dance floor and adopts a decent approximation of a ballroom posture. And we begin to shuffle across the floor.

Eric smiles. "You look really pretty tonight, Iona."

"Um, thank you." I catch a glimpse of my brother Ramsay dancing with Jamie Douglas, wife of Gavin Douglas. And for reasons I can't explain, I do the most ridiculous thing. I start a conversation with a virtual toddler. "Eric, tell me about your job. It's geology, right?"

"Yeah, I'm a geologist."

"What aspects of geology do you specialize in?"

The way he lights up at the chance to talk about his job tells me a great deal about him. Eric still gets excited about his career, unlike me. I'm ashamed to admit I've lost most of my vigor---career-wise and emotionally. Still, I listen while Eric expounds on his geology career.

"Field mapping is my favorite thing, although most geologists I know think that's not a sexy discipline." Eric deftly guides us around another couple who seem oblivious of where they're going. "I work for an independent company that does all sorts of stuff---geotechnical mapping, logging, hydrogeology, geoscience, engineering geology, and lots more."

The laddie tells me more about those disciplines, but I lose focus the longer he talks. It's all too technical for me. Even when the song stops, and another one begins, Eric goes on blethering. His excitement about his career drives him to take us around the floor faster and faster until I begin to feel dizzy. But I don't want to offend him.

"Eric, I'm hungry. Let's go to the buffet."

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry. You must be bored to tears by all that geology stuff. I rambled on and on."

"Dinnae fash. But I do want some food."

"Sure, let's head over to the buffet." He reaches toward my hand, then seems to think twice about that. "Come on. There's nobody at the food tables right now."

Our trip to the buffet satisfies my grumbling tummy, but Eric makes me laugh with silly jokes. Then I try to gently get rid of Eric by taking my plate and saying goodbye to him. The laddie still won't give up, though. When I find an open seat at a table and sit down, Eric appears and takes the seat beside mine. He talks more about his job, and I do my best to seem attentive and interested, strictly to be polite.

But I'm getting tired, and I want to go home.

Even when Thane puts on a dance routine, hoisting Rebecca above his head, all I can think about is the nice, soft pillow on my bed. I do cheer when Thane proposes to his lass, and she says yes. I'm genuinely thrilled for them.

Mhac na galla , I'm about to faint, I'm so jeeked.

I kiss Eric's cheek and rise from my chair. My face feels warm because I'm jeeked. Sleep sounds like heaven, if I can ever escape this laddie. "Goodnight, Eric. Thank you for keeping me company."

"Let me walk with you down to the vestibule."

I'm too exhausted to argue. "Aye, fine."

Our journey from the great hall to the vestibule takes time, mostly because I'm wearing high heels. The spiral staircase has many steps. By the time we reach the vestibule, I have to put my foot down.

"Time to say good night, Eric. No ifs, ands, or buts. Enjoy the rest of the party."

He touches my hand. "We could go outside and look at the stars. It's really romantic."

"No, I just want to go home."

Eric touches my hand again. "Please."

"You're sweet, but I---"

He lifts my hand to kiss it. "You're the hottest, smartest woman I've ever met. Don't leave yet. Go outside with me."

"All right. We can look at the stars for a moment, that's all."

The laddie grasps my elbow, leading me outside and onto the gravel drive. But when he tries to guide me toward the garden, I've broken my last straw.

"We can see the stars from the driveway, Eric."

"May I kiss you, Iona?"

"Eric..."

"Just one kiss, please."

If it will get rid of him, I suppose one kiss can't hurt. "Yes, fine."

The look of sheer joy on his face makes my stomach churn. When Eric touches his lips to mine, I feel nothing romantic toward him. The moment he pulls away, I can't disguise my discomfort.

"Let's try that again, Iona, please. I'll do better this time."

"The problem isn't you. It's me. I'm simply not attracted to you, and nothing will change how I feel. I'm sorry, Eric."

And then I walk away.

But my troubles have just begun.