The Gift of Love (The Book of Love #8) - Meara Platt Page 0,100

I meant to return it to ye.”

She glanced around. “I don’t see your pouch.”

“Bollocks. It’s on the other side of the wall.”

She rolled her eyes. “The one you almost broke your neck climbing over?”

He sat up slowly. “Aye, that one. My friends were supposed to toss it to me.”

“Some friends,” she muttered. “Were they the ones who heaved you over? You might have broken your neck.” She suddenly gasped and scrambled to her feet. “What have they done with the book? Do you think they took it? They can’t! I need it back.”

She had no sooner said the words than an object came flying at her head and struck her cheek. She reeled, and would have fallen, had Robbie not caught her in his arms. “Pixie, are ye hurt?”

He sounded quite shaken and did not appear at all drunk now.

She was surprised by how quickly the pouch smacking her in the face had sobered him up. He’d shot to his feet with such speed, she realized he could not have broken any bones or else he would never have been able to move so fast.

Thank goodness for small mercies.

He held her in his arms and was now stroking her hair, possibly to calm himself as much as it was to calm her. Her hair was in a loose braid down her back and probably unkempt since she hadn’t bothered to brush it before coming down here this morning.

She hadn’t expected to encounter anyone.

“I’ll be all right in a moment.” But she had to rest her head against his chest when she suddenly felt lightheaded.

Her heart was still racing from the shock of being hit, but as she was now pressed to his chest, she could hear the rapid pounding of his heart and knew he had been rattled as well. “I’ll kill them if they put a mark on ye.”

She eased back and touched her cheek to the spot that was now throbbing. It also burned lightly and felt moist. She suddenly realized why. “Robbie, am I bleeding?”

The blaze of fire in his eyes and the gentle sweep of his thumb across her cheek was all the answer she needed.

“Tilbury’s grand ball!” She would now be facing her guests - and worse, her betrothed - with a bruised cheek. What if it was swollen, too? How was she to appear elegant when she looked as though she’d been caught in a street brawl?

“We’ll fix it, Heether. Ye’ll look like a beautiful pixie, as ye always do.” He glanced at the pouch that had landed at their feet, the straps now loosened, causing it to fall open to reveal the book’s red-leather binding, peeking out.

He bent to retrieve the pouch and then surprised her by also lifting her in his arms. “What are you doing? I can walk. You’re the one who needs carrying.”

He laughed softly, a deep, glorious rumble. “Och, lass. I’d topple on ye and squash ye like a bug if ye ever tried to lift me.”

“But Robbie, you fell, and now your arm is bleeding.”

“I’ve suffered worse. Ye’re the one my pawky friends hurt. Is yer head still spinning?”

She nodded. “How did you know?”

“I can see it in yer eyes.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck because she was indeed feeling a little woozy. Or was it giddy? She could lie to herself and blame it on the pouch hitting her face. Or she could admit the truth she’d always dreaded. There was something about this big Scot that always made her head spin.

And now he was back after being away for months.

She squeezed her arms tightly around him...she hoped he would not mistake it for a hug. Perhaps it was a hug.

She was glad to have him back.

She’d missed him.

“My little pixie,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. “I missed ye, too.”

She wanted to cry.

Why did he have to come back today of all days? She was about to make her first formal appearance beside her betrothed. She and the Marquess of Tilbury would soon be married, and she would be a marchioness.

This was her dream.

This had always been her heart’s desire. Ever since she was a little girl, she had always said she would grow up and marry a nobleman, be a fine lady, and live in a fine house.

But Robbie had returned, bringing with him The Book of Love.

Was he about to shatter her childhood dreams?

ALSO BY MEARA PLATT

FARTHINGALE SERIES

My Fair Lily

The Duke I’m Going To Marry

Rules For Reforming A Rake

A Midsummer’s Kiss

The Viscount’s Rose

Earl of Hearts

If You Wished For Me

Never Dare A Duke

Capturing The Heart Of A Cameron

BOOK OF LOVE SERIES

The Look of Love

The Touch of Love

The Taste of Love

The Song of Love

The Scent of Love

The Kiss of Love

The Chance of Love

The Gift of Love

The Heart of Love

The Hope of Love (novella)

DARK GARDENS SERIES

Garden of Shadows

Garden of Light

Garden of Dragons

Garden of Destiny

THE BRAYDENS

A Match Made In Duty

Earl of Westcliff

Fortune’s Dragon

Earl of Kinross

Pearls of Fire*

(*also in Pirates of Britannia series)

Aislin

Gennalyn

DeWOLFE PACK ANGELS SERIES

Nobody’s Angel

Kiss An Angel

Bhrodi’s Angel

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Meara Platt is an award winning, USA TODAY bestselling author and an Amazon UK All-Star. Her favorite place in all the world is England’s Lake District, which may not come as a surprise since many of her stories are set in that idyllic landscape, including her paranormal romance Dark Gardens series. Learn more about the Dark Gardens and Meara’s lighthearted and humorous Regency romances in her Farthingale series and Book of Love series, or her warmhearted Regency romances in her Braydens series by visiting her website at www.mearaplatt.com

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