area of his heart, but it had been, after all, just a momentary fantasy. He calmly shifted his gaze away from the crowd in general, and Kira in particular, thankful for Graham’s furrowed brow. Nothing like the scrutiny of a close friend to help realign one’s priorities. “No,” he said, easily. “And thanks, but I’ll meet you there in a wee bit.”
Graham’s look of concern didn’t ease. If anything, it deepened. Which was annoying. Perhaps Shay wasn’t hiding his uncustomary rioting emotions as well as he’d assumed. He needed to get a grip, and quickly. Retreat, and regroup, that was the best move.
Instead, a quick thump of anxiety beat sharply inside his chest when Graham’s intent gaze—and no one was so intent as his science-minded friend—shifted with laser-like accuracy from Shay . . . to the retreating, beautifully gowned, and quite lovely form of one Kira MacLeod.
“Perhaps you were hopeful of a different kind of lift?”
Feeling a little rattled now—first Tessa, now Graham—and further annoyed with himself because of it, Shay jerked his attention from where it had once again strayed to Kira, back to Graham—only to find amusement crinkling the corners of his best friend’s eyes.
His first instinct was to defend Kira, but he tamped that down. He’d apparently given enough away already. “I—have work to do,” he said, intending to sound as if he were merely distracted by a case, which wasn’t at all a rare thing. Only the look on Graham’s face made it clear he knew the real distraction was presently carefully picking her way across the stone-filled field. “I need to drop by my offices.”
“On a Sunday?”
“I’m trying to avoid a trip back to the city this coming week, and it would be helpful if I could get these briefs done and faxed so they’re already waiting on the appropriate desktop start of business tomorrow.”
“It’s barely three in the afternoon,” Graham said, steadily, the light of amusement not dimming in the least, but perhaps increasing, as the corners of his mouth quirked now as well. “Surely you have time to hoist a glass and say a few words before attending to the needs of those trying to undo what was so beautifully done here today.”
Whatever was left of the bubble now lay empty and flat at his feet. Not a surprise. Bubbles were meant to pop. He just didn’t know why the prick had carried such a particularly painful sting this go around. His expression smoothed further. “You do know I truly wish you and Katie, as well as Roan and Tessa, all the happiness in the world,” he said, never more sincere. “Nothing would make me happier than to watch you grow old together and bounce many a rosy cheeked grandbaby on your aging, knobby knee.”
Graham merely cocked a brow. “But?”
“But, I have work to do. I can’t help that it happens to be what it is. It’s what I do. Everyone deserves to have their needs well-represented, no matter the situation involved.”
“And you do it quite well, solicitor.”
Shay merely held his gaze evenly, said nothing.
“Is there some rule,” Graham went on, his gaze still as intent as ever, “against enjoying oneself, simply for the moment? Not every quest for pleasure has to end in a lifelong commitment.”
Shay stifled a sigh. This wasn’t new territory. “In the city, I’d agree. Which is why, as you well know, I conduct that part of my life there. Here on Kinloch, however, we both know the truth of it,” Shay said, and knew Graham understood his meaning. It was, in fact, the irony of all ironies, to his mind. While Shay spent at least half of his time in Edinburgh devoting himself to tearing asunder the unions made in holy matrimony . . . here on Kinloch, nary a single soul had ever divorced. Not ever. Not once. For all of the four hundred recorded years in the history of the isle. “I’ll meet you all later, and raise my glass then. Several in fact, to be sure.”
He moved past Graham,
Graham’s look of concern didn’t ease. If anything, it deepened. Which was annoying. Perhaps Shay wasn’t hiding his uncustomary rioting emotions as well as he’d assumed. He needed to get a grip, and quickly. Retreat, and regroup, that was the best move.
Instead, a quick thump of anxiety beat sharply inside his chest when Graham’s intent gaze—and no one was so intent as his science-minded friend—shifted with laser-like accuracy from Shay . . . to the retreating, beautifully gowned, and quite lovely form of one Kira MacLeod.
“Perhaps you were hopeful of a different kind of lift?”
Feeling a little rattled now—first Tessa, now Graham—and further annoyed with himself because of it, Shay jerked his attention from where it had once again strayed to Kira, back to Graham—only to find amusement crinkling the corners of his best friend’s eyes.
His first instinct was to defend Kira, but he tamped that down. He’d apparently given enough away already. “I—have work to do,” he said, intending to sound as if he were merely distracted by a case, which wasn’t at all a rare thing. Only the look on Graham’s face made it clear he knew the real distraction was presently carefully picking her way across the stone-filled field. “I need to drop by my offices.”
“On a Sunday?”
“I’m trying to avoid a trip back to the city this coming week, and it would be helpful if I could get these briefs done and faxed so they’re already waiting on the appropriate desktop start of business tomorrow.”
“It’s barely three in the afternoon,” Graham said, steadily, the light of amusement not dimming in the least, but perhaps increasing, as the corners of his mouth quirked now as well. “Surely you have time to hoist a glass and say a few words before attending to the needs of those trying to undo what was so beautifully done here today.”
Whatever was left of the bubble now lay empty and flat at his feet. Not a surprise. Bubbles were meant to pop. He just didn’t know why the prick had carried such a particularly painful sting this go around. His expression smoothed further. “You do know I truly wish you and Katie, as well as Roan and Tessa, all the happiness in the world,” he said, never more sincere. “Nothing would make me happier than to watch you grow old together and bounce many a rosy cheeked grandbaby on your aging, knobby knee.”
Graham merely cocked a brow. “But?”
“But, I have work to do. I can’t help that it happens to be what it is. It’s what I do. Everyone deserves to have their needs well-represented, no matter the situation involved.”
“And you do it quite well, solicitor.”
Shay merely held his gaze evenly, said nothing.
“Is there some rule,” Graham went on, his gaze still as intent as ever, “against enjoying oneself, simply for the moment? Not every quest for pleasure has to end in a lifelong commitment.”
Shay stifled a sigh. This wasn’t new territory. “In the city, I’d agree. Which is why, as you well know, I conduct that part of my life there. Here on Kinloch, however, we both know the truth of it,” Shay said, and knew Graham understood his meaning. It was, in fact, the irony of all ironies, to his mind. While Shay spent at least half of his time in Edinburgh devoting himself to tearing asunder the unions made in holy matrimony . . . here on Kinloch, nary a single soul had ever divorced. Not ever. Not once. For all of the four hundred recorded years in the history of the isle. “I’ll meet you all later, and raise my glass then. Several in fact, to be sure.”
He moved past Graham,
Similar Books
