The Scot's Secret - Cecelia Mecca Page 0,67

him say Alex’s name.

But he was seated too far from her.

“He hasn’t been seen all evening,” Emma whispered.

There was no pretending she didn’t know what her friend was talking about.

“That’s nice,” she said instead. Emma chuckled.

Her companion’s eyes brightened when the final dish was served.

“I knew it,” Emma exclaimed.

The pears were cooked in wine and spiced with cinnamon, and after one bite, Clara had to agree they were quite tasty.

She tried to concentrate on the delicacy, her companion, and her final days of freedom, but a certain roguishly handsome warrior intruded on her thoughts. . .

And then he entered the hall.

Their eyes locked. Clara slowly finished her bite of pear. He moved toward them, freshly washed, looking every bit the second in command of a powerful border clan.

Provoking him would only cause her more trouble. She shouldn’t do it. But whether it was the wine or something else, Clara knew what she wanted.

She wanted to be with Alex.

He’d given her a taste, and she wanted more. Pretending otherwise was for virgin brides with marriage prospects. Or ladies old enough to understand desire but too young to have the chance to act on it. She was neither.

She’d seen camp ladies flirt, something she was perfectly capable of mimicking. Clara had simply never felt the need to do so. Until now. And so instead of popping the final bite of wine-soaked pear into her mouth, she extended the moment.

Before picking up the cloth to clean her fingers, she licked the sweetness from them as slowly as possible without being so overt Emma would notice.

But Alex definitely did.

Clara never let her eyes leave his, and she knew he’d seen her every move as he stood before the dais. Though he averted his gaze to make his apologies to the lord and lady of Kenshire, a fire had been lit, and Clara prepared herself to get burned.

His apologies made, Alex walked to the empty seat next to hers—the one reserved for him. Emma admitted to having rearranged their seating earlier, though at the time it had not seemed to matter.

But he was here now.

“My lady.” Rather than look at him directly, Clara chanced a glance at Emma, who tried to hide her broad, mischievous smile by starting a conversation with Sara.

Clara turned to Alex as if she had not a care in the world. “I thought perhaps you were not hungry.”

His eyes darkened as a servant poured him wine. He nodded his thanks to the cupbearer, seized his cup, and brought it to his lips.

“Quite the opposite.”

His look sent a shiver to her very core. The pull that had been there from the start seemed to grow with each passing day.

Clara refused to look away.

“Look,” she said, pointing to the servant who walked their way with a tray containing remnants of their earlier meal. “It appears your appetite will be sated soon.”

They watched the food as it was placed in front of him.

Alex raised his brows, his lips twitching as if to fight a smile.

“I can assure you, my lady, this—” he nodded to the food, “—will not help.”

Clara had caught herself in her own game. She swallowed, remembering what he’d done to her on the beach. Her body remembered too, and tingled in anticipation.

Alex leaned toward her, lowering his voice. “I know what you’re thinking.”

The tingling sensation grew, demanding her attention. She turned away, but Alex did not relent.

“I would do it again, a thousand times if you’d let me.”

Oh God, she should not have started this.

Alex leaned forward to look across the table, smiling at Lady Sara, who’d glanced their way.

“Besides—” he leaned back, “—we need to talk.”

She tried to calm her beating heart.

“We’re talking now.” She tried to make her voice sound casual, but Clara was sure she’d not succeeded.

“Nay, love, this is called flirting, not talking.”

Love.

“You’re not very subtle,” she chided.

“I don’t intend to be.”

With that, he turned his attention to the food before him. Normally, she loved Alex’s directness. But sometimes, namely this evening, it could be a tad off-putting. She supposed she deserved it for setting such a sensual tone.

“Aren’t they delicious?”

Emma had posed the question about her beloved pears, but Alex took it upon himself to answer.

“I haven’t tasted them yet. But I look forward to doing so.”

His meaning was abundantly clear.

The very thought made her squirm in her seat.

When Emma turned away once again, she braced herself. Sure enough, Alex leaned toward her.

“Aye, love. That is exactly what I meant.”

Clara’s entire body tensed. She could not