Chapter 3 #3
According to Jamie, Meg had been groomed to run the clan’s lands.
An enormous undertaking for one so young, Alex realized; no wonder the lass looked so weary.
She pushed herself too hard. At some point, it was going to be too much.
And now she must find her own husband? For a father to allow his daughter such a say in her choice of husband certainly spoke well of her good sense.
But Alex suspected it also had contributed to the level of anxiety he read in her manner.
Despite his political differences with Jamie Campbell, Alex admitted that she could do much worse.
Meg Mackinnon, though tempting, was not for him. He’d do best to remember it.
“So it is time to find a husband?”
She was watching his reaction intently. “I’m afraid so.”
“Why are you telling me this? It’s not something young ladies usually admit.”
A wry smile turned her mouth. “It’s not exactly a secret. There is no point in hiding what is common knowledge.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I find it helps weed out the unsuitable candidates.”
I’d imagine so. “A practical approach.”
She beamed. “Exactly!”
Meg was nothing like the coy, jaded ladies who inhabited court. She was a breath of fresh air, like the warm, salty sea breeze that blew across Dunvegan. “And have you found anyone who is suitable?” he asked, more interested in her response than he wanted to admit.
The tiny lines appeared between her brows again. “ ’Tis more complicated a decision than I anticipated.”
She looked so discouraged, Alex found himself wanting to ease her worry. He wanted to make her laugh. He couldn’t recall having that feeling in a long time.
Bending down, he whispered in her ear, “Ah, but you have one thing on your side that assures your success.”
“What’s that?”
“With your mother helping, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Meg laughed. He was teasing her. This enormous, forbidding warrior was trying to make her laugh. And when he smiled back at her, really smiled at her, Meg realized something very disturbing. She could lose herself in this man.
The pure magic of that sensual smile shot like an arrow straight into her gut. For an agonizing moment, Meg was unable to look away, unable to contain the small excited flutter in her heart. His appeal was undeniable.
The music stopped, and she realized his hand was at her waist. He should have released her. But instead his hand pressed deeper against her, drawing her infinitesimally closer. She drew in her breath. His thumb stroked her lower back. She should pull away, but she couldn’t move.
Their eyes locked, and against her better judgment her heart did an involuntary flip.
It was that same intense look he’d given her on the battlefield.
A look of desire. When he leaned closer to her, Meg gasped, thinking he meant to kiss her right here on the dance floor.
In front of hundreds of people. And the worst part was that she didn’t care.
As his face moved closer, she could see the crystal clear blue of his eyes and the soft golden tips of his eyelashes. For a moment, she could feel his warm, spicy breath on her cheek.
But it was a whisper—not his mouth—that swept across her ear.
“You’re lovely when you smile, you know.” The words were not posed as a question. His voice was deep and rough, sending chills up her spine, leaving no doubt as to his sincerity. Nor could she deny the pleasure his words brought. He found her attractive.
Self-consciously, she lowered her lashes, not knowing how to respond.
Unlike her mother, Meg was not used to receiving compliments or engaging in the flirtatious banter of court.
Her tendency to speak her mind had scared off many a suitor, but Alex did not seem at all put off by her frankness.
In fact, she sensed that he admired it. The realization warmed her.
“You look much like your mother, but—”
Meg stiffened and instinctively pulled back, knowing what he was about to say. A dull ache of disappointment throbbed in her chest. How could she be so foolish to think even for a moment that he would find her attractive? She smiled crookedly and finished for him: “But not the same.”
“No,” he said definitively. “Not the same.”
Of course not. She wasn’t surprised by his words, just by how much his honesty hurt. A twinge of longing pinched in her chest. What would it be like to be beautiful and admired?
He must have seen something on her face because he started to say, “That’s not what I meant—”
But the next dance began, and Meg jumped at the opportunity to escape.
She felt ridiculous. For a moment, she’d been foolish enough to think he might be interested in her.
But Alex MacLeod would never desire a plain wren like Meg.
That he didn’t shouldn’t come as such a surprise.
She would never be beautiful like her mother, so long ago she’d given up trying.
But she’d rather not have it pointed out so bluntly. It wasn’t important, she told herself.
“You’ll have to excuse me. I see Elizabeth and Jamie and must speak with them at once.” She couldn’t hide the overbrightness of her reply. Like a coward, she dashed away before he noticed her surprised hurt.
For a moment, she’d been distracted. She’d allowed herself to relax her guard. But even if she wanted to attract someone like Alex MacLeod, he would never want someone like her. He had his pick of the beautiful, willing women in this room. And Meg was none of those.
She hated this feeling of vulnerability.
This feeling that he’d opened up a part of her that she’d fought hard to repress.
Meg had devoted herself to her family, to her clan.
Through hard work and sacrifice, she’d carved out an unusual place for herself in managing the Mackinnon lands.
She liked the responsibility she’d earned. It should be enough.
But Alex MacLeod made her remember girlish longings she’d fought hard to forget.