Fire Maidens Scotland (Billionaires & Bodyguards #6) - Anna Lowe Page 0,10

away. “I’ll be fine. And you have to get back to whatshername.”

He cocked his head. “Who?”

She rolled her hand in circles, trying to recall the redhead’s name. “Penelope.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, and she wondered what was going through his mind.

Slowly, he stepped back. “I suppose I should.”

Holly made a face. He supposed? Poor Penelope. She was probably infatuated with Lachlan, while he barely seemed to recall her existence. He was bound to break the poor woman’s heart the way he’d broken Holly’s, so long ago. There had to be a long list of women between her and Penelope who spent weepy nights wondering what might have been. Who knew? Maybe she, Penelope, and all the others could form some kind of club.

“Look.” He heaved the deep breath of a man preparing to bring up an uncomfortable subject. Which, for Lachlan, meant any matter of the heart. Even big, gruff Trevor had recognized that.

Poor boy. Quite a tough father, and his mother died young.

She’d known that from the start, but she’d been sure she could get past his invisible armor. But, no. All she’d gotten past were his clothes, and only for one sizzling night. She’d never gotten close to his heart, and she damn well wasn’t going to try again.

She stuck up a hand, saving both of them the awkwardness of The Talk.

“It’s fine. No problem. We can leave tomorrow. As soon as we take care of Trevor’s wishes, I’ll be on my way. I promise.”

The promise was as much to herself as to him, because the longer she spent gazing into those mesmerizing gray eyes, the more she was tempted to risk everything.

A wailing sound burst out, and Holly nearly jumped out of her skin. Then she exhaled, spotting a dozen bagpipers. They marched six abreast, blasting “Scotland the Brave.” Behind them, a fresh group of protesters surged forward, swinging flags and blowing whistles.

Holly sidestepped to avoid them. Lachlan followed, shielding her from the crowd. A good thing, too, because she ran out of space, coming up against a police barricade. She skirted it and made it to the sidewalk, but the crowd continued to swell.

“Oi! Easy there, lads,” someone called in alarm.

But the protesters kept coming in droves, squeezing away all breathing space.

“Over there.” Lachlan gestured to a shallow niche in a shop wall.

How long they sheltered as hundreds of chanting protesters streamed past, Holly didn’t know. Five minutes? Ten? An eternity, it seemed, with Lachlan tantalizingly close. From the outside, he might have appeared to be part of the wall, what with his arms braced to each side and his back to the crowd. But Holly was face-to-face with him, and it felt more like the prelude to a hug.

Her dragon inhaled deeply, savoring his musky scent. Before realizing what she was doing, she closed her eyes, the better to drink him in. And if her mind wandered back to old times, well, that wasn’t her fault.

So close, her dragon hummed.

Too close, she wanted to protest.

But it wasn’t. It was just right.

Images rushed through her mind, replaying all the little kindnesses she’d witnessed from Lachlan. The rare smiles. His heated kisses. His reverent touch.

Her body hummed with need, and her hands twitched, begging to touch the smooth planes of his chest. She forced herself to open her eyes. But that didn’t help, because Lachlan’s lips had opened slightly, and his gaze was firmly on her mouth.

Want you. Need you. Missed you so much, her dragon whispered.

His eyes swirled, and he leaned closer, his human side losing control to his inner beast.

I missed you too. More than I can say, she swore went through his mind.

Their bodies pressed closer as if ten years hadn’t passed since they’d last touched. She cocked her head, inching in to meet the kiss poised on his lips. Lachlan leaned in, eyes glazing slightly.

Missed you so much, my mate, those storm-cloud eyes said.

Their lips were a millimeter away from brushing, but she could already taste the kiss. His body heat embraced her, and he slid one strong hand around her waist.

Then someone shouted from over Lachlan’s shoulder. “Independence!”

“Independence!”

“Take back control!” another protester shouted.

Lachlan barely moved, but Holly jolted. God, what was she doing?

Second chance, her dragon murmured, still lost in his eyes.

She nudged him away.

“Lachlan…”

His eyes fluttered, and his lips moved, but no sound came out.

“Lachlan.” She raised her voice firmly.

He blinked, then stiffened and jerked away. “Sorry.”

She gulped at the yearning in his eyes. The sheer need. But that