Highlander Unmasked by Monica Mccarty Page B

so close, she could see the flecks of gold on the edges of his eyelashes. Surprisingly thick and curly eyelashes. His startlingly blue eyes bored into her. She could see every tiny scar peppered across his ruggedly handsome face. If anything, the small imperfections only increased his attractiveness, giving proof of his life as a warrior, especially the thin scar that sliced across one brow that gave him a decidedly devilish edge—and made something inside her quiver. But most of all, she was deeply aware of his wide mouth only inches from hers.
    “Answer me.” His voice was low and rough and oddly hoarse, as if he were in pain.
    “I was looking for my mother. I might ask you the same question. Why are you here?”
    “It’s none of your damn business.”
    She felt oddly deflated; part of her had hoped he would deny it. “You’re right, it’s not. And what you were doing is quite obvious. You may dally with whomever you wish, wherever you wish,” she said thickly, her throat tightening. “But next time, you might choose not to do it in the open, where anyone might see you.”
    He pulled her even closer. “When I want advice from you, my sweet, I’ll ask for it.”
    Heat seemed to radiate through her. She could swear she felt the fierce pounding of his heart against hers. The pulse at his jaw twitched. Every muscle in his body tensed with restraint; he seemed to be holding himself by a very thin thread.
    Her own breathing was shallow and erratic. She was deeply conscious of the heavy rise and fall of her chest against him. He held her so tight, her breasts swelled high over her stays. A warm flush spread over her when she realized her nipples had hardened against him. Every part of her body felt heavy and achingly sensitive.
    Tension crackled between them. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Dear God, he was going to kiss her. The strength of her desire rose high inside her, threatening to erupt, but she struggled to tamp it down. Her duty lay with Jamie. Her voice, when it came, was ragged. “Let go of me.”
    From the expression on his face, Meg could see his shock. Without another word, he released her. This time Meg ran.

 
    Chapter 7

    “Margaret, stop fidgeting.”
    “Ouch!” Meg cried, trying to evade the torture of her mother’s comb raking through her mop of tangled curls. The night of the masque had arrived, and with it the fulfillment of her promise to her mother. A promise made under duress, Meg thought crossly. “I’m not fidgeting. I don’t know why I agreed to this, especially after your part in arranging our escort for the evening.”
    “You agreed because you want to make your mother happy,” her mother said. “And it will make me happy to see to your hair and wardrobe tonight.” She sighed dramatically. “You are a beautiful girl, darling, if only you’d attend to your appearance the way you attend to the rents.”
    “The rents are important, the way I wear my hairisn’t,” Meg answered patiently, as if this were the first time they’d had this conversation rather than the hundredth. “And you can see how much trouble it is to tame this unruly mess.”
    Her mother shook her head with disbelief and attempted a stern expression, failing miserably. It was impossible for her mother to ever look sharply at anyone. “I don’t know why you are so upset about our escort for the evening. Alex MacLeod is a perfectly delightful man.”
    “I’m upset because you promised not to interfere. Besides, your efforts are all for naught. I’ve already decided that if he asks, I’m going to marry Jamie.”
    Her mother frowned. “But you don’t love Jamie. I’ve seen the way you look at Laird MacLeod. You are obviously attracted to him. All I’ve done is arrange it so that you can spend some time with him. You should be thanking me.”
    Meg’s cheeks heated. Her mother was far too observant. “I’m not blind, Mother. I’ll admit he’s handsome—forsooth, who wouldn’t? But there’s a