Scot to the Touch (The Hots for Scots #7) - Caroline Lee Page 0,9

hair and gestured expansively while she spoke, nearly knocking over her flagon.

His brother was married to the housekeeper’s daughter? His father was openly sleeping with the housekeeper herself? What a strangely, yet wonderful, family.

Humming under her breath, Kat focused on her meal, but she could feel him beside her, and when his elbow brushed against hers, that spike of warmth flared between them again. The silence stretched, and the longer he went without speaking to someone else, the more she felt as if he were waiting on her to respond.

Finally, unable to stand the awkwardness, she blurted out, “And ye, Kiergan?”

His blue eyes lit with genuine pleasure as he finished chewing and swallowed. “What about me?”

Aye, what about him? Katlyn wracked her brain, trying to remember something she could use as a conversational volley. Suddenly, she recalled his earlier words. “Ye said yer brothers had their blessings and their skills…but what about ye? What are yer blessings and skills?”

She was surprised to see him flush and drop his gaze to his trencher. Had she embarrassed him? She had the ability to embarrass a charmer like Kiergan Oliphant?

“I…” He shook his head and reached for his flagon, his knuckles going white around it as he lifted it to his lips. “I have my own skills.”

As he drank, she watched him. “Like what?” she murmured.

This would’ve been the time for him to wink or smile lewdly, but instead, he simply stared down into his flagon. “Too few actually.”

He sounded so…lost. Was he saying he believed his skills didn’t suit for lairdship? Was he jealous of his brothers?

Mayhap she made a little noise or something, because suddenly his gaze swung up to meet hers. She saw starkness in those blue eyes, briefly, before he blinked, the charming mask was back in place.

“I’ve recently taken over the clan’s correspondence,” he said flippantly, then settled back into his slouch, plopping the flagon beside his trencher as if naught mattered. “I’ve discovered I’m quite good at diplomacy; a skill I’ve been using for an entirely different result all these years, if ye catch my meaning.”

When he winked, it looked a little forced. Kat peered at him and realized he was covering his true feelings. He was proud of his new role for the clan. He was proud of being able to contribute.

So she smiled, and without thinking, placed her fingertips on his forearm. “I’m pleased for ye, Kiergan,” she murmured, holding his gaze. “Pleased for ye and the Oliphants. I hope ye find yer place.”

He startled but didn’t pull away. Instead, he dropped his hand over hers where it rested atop his arm. His fingers caressed the back of her hand, teasing her with his closeness, and sending heat and tingles up her arm.

By all the saints, the things this man could do to her!

Katlyn was already aroused, and he’d done naught more than look gratefully at her and touch her hand once.

In that moment, she knew she had to go through with her scheme. Whatever Kiergan’s motivations were for speaking so intimately with her over the meal—whether it was genuine friendship or just the desire to make Vina jealous—Kat knew she’d been handed a rare gift.

A man who inspired unimaginable pleasure, sat beside her and was flirting with her.

Thanks to her curse, this had never happened before, and never would again.

And she planned to grab hold of this blessing with both hands.

Tonight.

The thought sent a rush of damp heat to her core, and she squirmed against the hard chair.

Breathless now, she pulled her hand out from under his in an attempt to get her heartbeat under control.

It didn’t quite work, because he was still watching her, and since he hadn’t shown any interest in speaking to those around them, Katlyn knew it’d be rude to ignore him. Besides, it might be selfish of her, but she was enjoying having a handsome man’s attention for a change.

So she cleared her throat and tried for nonchalance when she picked up her own eating knife to spear a piece of meat. “Tell me about yer home, Kiergan.”

For the rest of the meal, she learned about the history of the Oliphants and the funny legends surrounding the ancient castle. Apparently, there was a drummer—the Ghostly Drummer of Oliphant Castle—who was said to haunt the castle walls, banging away on his drum.

“Aunt Agatha says whoever hears him is doomed.”

Kat lifted a brow skeptically. “Doomed?” she repeated.

“Dooooooomed,” he clarified, smiling. “She says the drummer dooms those poor souls to fall in