Love Me Forever

by Johanna Lindsey

  Amazingly, she’d also been so distracted by her hostess that she’d managed to forget, for brief periods anyway, the presence of the man who so fascinated her. It had helped that he sat at the far end of the table from her, far enough that she couldn’t even hear his voice in whatever conversations he joined in.

  It was only when she had the strangest feeling of having MacGregor’s eyes on her that she recalled him at all. Not that she looked even once to confirm if he was staring at her or not. And it was more likely just her imagination giving her that feeling, because he’d have no reason to pay attention to her when the lovely Megan was present.

  Kimberly knew exactly where his interest lay. After all, she had overheard everything he’d said to the duchess when he arrived. And not for a moment did she think that their banter had been the kind of harmless flirtation that men and women engaged in. He’d been serious. He meant to pursue a married woman. And that married woman had been obviously annoyed and exasperated with him because of it, not in the least bit receptive to the idea. But that wouldn’t stop him. His behavior tonight proved that.

  Kimberly heard the footsteps behind her just as she turned into the hallway where her room was located. The sound caused her heart to skip. It could be a servant, though she doubted it, with such a heavy tread. It was more likely the Highlander, and yet she had left the gathering early, to avoid just such a possibility.

  After dinner they had moved from the dining hall to the music room, where Cynthia had entertained them with her skill on the harpsichord. Because it was such a small gathering, by St. James standards, the men had brought their brandies along rather than remain behind to finish them, and those who wished to smoke did so in the back of the room.

  When Kimberly left, MacGregor had still been swirling a good portion of brandy in his glass, as well as being deep in conversation with Lady Hester, so by all counts, he should not be coming up the hall behind her. And she knew for a fact that he kept late hours. But her senses were telling her otherwise, were leaping with alarm or excitement—she really wished she could distinguish the two.

  Wisely, Kimberly chose not to have another confrontation with him, if it was him, however brief or even if it were no more than a nod in passing. She was positive she’d never get to sleep tonight if she did. So she hurried her step, was actually running the last few, only to realize as she turned the latch on her door that she’d locked it.

  Now, why had she done a foolish thing like that? He hadn’t been serious about stealing anything from her, he wouldn’t dare. For her peace of mind, she really only needed to lock the door when she was behind it, not when she wasn’t. Yet it was locked tight, those footsteps were growing louder, and when she finally located the hidden pocket tucked under the folds of her skirt and yanked the key out, she was so anxious she dropped the damn thing. Worse, after snatching it up again, she couldn’t find the keyhole.

  And then a large hand spread wide against the door, level with her face, and a Scots brogue was breathing down her neck. “So you dinna think I’m a giant?”

  After her haste and anxiety, it was strange to have a calmness come over her now, but that’s what happened. Possibly she’d had one too many glasses of the sweet wine with the meal tonight, or possibly it was no more than resignation. But she was definitely calm now, and when she turned around to face him, she wasn’t too disconcerted to find him practically looming over her, he was so close.

  So he’d heard her remark to Cynthia? Amazing that she wasn’t embarrassed by that.

  Kimberly raised her eyes to meet his, not too far a distance, really it wasn’t, and answered in a somewhat dry tone, “Hardly.”

  That response seemed to amuse him, though he pointed out, “You did enough gawking at me the first time you saw me, as I recall.”

  “Possibly because you’re an exceptionally handsome man?” she said.

  Putting it in the form of a question had him blushing, though that was likely to have happened either way. He also dropped his arm and stepped back slightly, so that he didn’t seem quite so threatening.

  “Then perhaps I’m owing you an apology for my abruptness yesterday when I arrived.”

  She could have been gracious, accepted his apology, and let it go at that, which would undoubtedly have hurried him along to his own room, and gotten her into hers without any further ado. She didn’t do that.

  Instead she said, “You’re making a habit of owing me apologies, aren’t you?”

  It was a provoking question. She realized that as soon as she spoke. Yet she didn’t try to retract her comment or lessen the subtle challenge it issued.

  His reaction, however, was to laugh and say, “D’you think so, darlin’? And here I was thinking what a good lad I’ve been—all things considered.”

  Kimberly ignored his attempt to put the blame for his behavior on her, and said instead, “I’ve asked you not to call me that.”

  The smile he offered now was somewhat on the wicked side, or perhaps her imagination was running rampant again. “Asking willna always get what you want from me, unless ’tis what I’m wanting tae hear.”

  She should have known she couldn’t have a conversation with this man without getting annoyed with him. “And what would that be?”

  “From you, maybe—please?”

  She quirked a brow. “Humble myself because you haven’t sense enough to see that I am not nor will I ever be your darling? I think not.”

  It was another challenge. His hand came back to the door behind her head, bracing him against it. That definitely crowded her and forced her to tilt her head back even farther if she wanted to keep eye contact. Perhaps she should reconsider about his being a giant…

  “Never deny what’s possible, and anything’s possible, given fate’s intervention, as well as the quirks of nature and one’s own determination.”

  “Then would it be possible for you to take yourself off and let me retire in peace?”

  He chuckled. “Aye, ’tis possible, but here is an instance when determination’s going tae delay it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He smiled a bit too sensually, which should have given her some warning of what he was going to say, but it didn’t. “Just that I havena kissed you yet, darlin’, when I’m feeling this powerful urge right now tae do so.”

  “Don’t even—!”

  That was as far as she got in her protest, because he bent his head and he was kissing her. For an unexpected happening, this one could have won a prize. Never would Kimberly have thought that something like this was possible, yet Lachlan MacGregor’s lips were moving over hers in a light, hesitant manner, and then suddenly, with no hesitancy at all as his kiss deepened for a full tasting.

  Kimberly was thoroughly entranced. She didn’t move. She barely breathed. She certainly didn’t think. She simply stood there and experienced the wonder of that kiss and all the pleasant sensations that accompanied it. Even when his tongue made a foray into her mouth, her shock that he would do such a thing didn’t counter the pleasure of it. There were too many unique feelings coursing through her to be overly disturbed by the unexpected.

  When he finally leaned back, she was totally bemused. He could have left right then and she wouldn’t have known it. But he didn’t leave. He was staring down at her rather intensely, and when her thoughts finally returned in a rush, they bombarded her with contradictions. Utmost was outrage alongside a desire to kiss him again, which really didn’t mix at all.

  Kimberly had certainly never experienced anything even remotely similar to what had just occurred. Maurice had given her a short, awkward kiss when she was sixteen, which had been her first. Then he’d given her a more manly kiss before he left on his grand tour. Neither had affected her in the least, but she certainly couldn’t say that about the Scotsman’s kiss. And she had no idea why he had decided to show her the difference.

  She resolved to find out, asking him frankly, “Why did you do that?”

  He suddenly look
ed as confused as she was. “I dinna ken,” he admitted. “’Tis possible I have overimbibed and should take myself tae bed, afore I make more of an ass of myself than I have.”

  She was disappointed in his response though she had no business being so. What had she expected to hear, that he had kissed her because he simply couldn’t help himself, that it was something he had to do because he wanted to so badly? She nearly snorted at her own thoughts.

  To him she said, “Yes, that’s a capital idea. And don’t bother apologizing yet again in the morning, MacGregor. Too many apologies tend to weaken the sincerity one should expect from such endeavors.”

  She turned about to make another attempt to open her door. His hand came to her arm, stilling her, and he was once again breathing down her neck, sending a shiver down her spine this time.

  “I never apologize for kissing a lass. ’Tis something I’m never sorry for, and that ’twas you I kissed doesna make an exception to that. So dinna be expecting to hear that I’m sorry, because I’m no’ the least bit sorry.”

  With that he walked away, leaving her even more confused than she had been.

  12

  Three days later, Kimberly couldn’t quite believe that she was going to the Wigginses’ ball. She could have sworn she wouldn’t be ready for it in time, but she was. The St. James party was to include both Their Graces, Lady Hester—Cynthia was still pouting because she wasn’t old enough yet to attend—and Lachlan MacGregor, all of whom made the journey to London on the morning of the ball. They would be staying at the duke’s townhouse for just short of a week, since a few other London engagements had also been accepted, including yet another ball. And Lucinda and Margaret would be joining them tomorrow, along with Cynthia.

  Incredibly, Mrs. Canterby had been able to create a stunning ball gown for Kimberly in only a day and a half, and another one would be delivered later in the week. With the help of an assistant or two, she had also managed to complete two day gowns before they departed that morning, and more would arrive in London daily, she had promised.

  With their servants along, as well as the amount of baggage that the duchess traveled with, it took two carriages besides the grand ducal coach to transport them. Even so, the duke elected to ride one of his magnificent thoroughbred horses instead, possibly because he didn’t want to be cooped up with the Highlander for the many hours that it took to get to London. Kimberly wished she could have been spared the same, but she wasn’t that lucky.

  She had managed to avoid Lachlan the last two days, except at meals, which was fortunate. The morning after he kissed her, he arrived for breakfast and sneezed, repeatedly, and she had burst out laughing. It was just deserts, in her opinion, that he had caught her cold because of that kiss. But he’d been scowling at her ever since, apparently having a different opinion entirely. And she really couldn’t say why she had found it so funny, but she did. She also assumed that Lucinda had sent him one of her foul-tasting remedies, because he hadn’t sneezed much after that one time.

  This morning, sitting beside him in the coach, but nowhere near him as the seat was so long, she was still able to ignore him somewhat. Megan and Hester sat on the opposite seat, and Kimberly could just imagine the looks that Lachlan was passing on to the duchess when Lady Hester wasn’t paying attention. In fact, Kimberly had no doubt that if Hester weren’t along, she would herself be ignored again and the two of them would be discussing, quite openly, his interest in the duchess. She felt certain that he would at least make that attempt.

  As it was, Megan maintained a mulish expression that indicated her annoyance with the Scotsman. The only time it left her face was when she had to turn to Hester, who kept up a steady stream of chatter, to make some reply. Kimberly was avoiding those brief conversations herself by admiring the passing scenery, or pretending to.

  There was nothing scheduled for the afternoon, and in fact when they arrived in London, Megan suggested they all rest, since the ball would undoubtedly last into the wee hours of the morning. Kimberly was all for that. Trying to ignore Lachlan at such close quarters had been a strain, making the journey very tiring.

  But it seemed like in no time at all, they were departing for the ball. Kimberly was actually excited, probably because, she had to admit, she had never looked quite so nice. And that wasn’t only due to her splendid gown, which fit her exceptionally well. The silver-grey satin was interspersed with powder blue lace that circled the narrow skirt at intervals and bordered the lengthy train in the back. It also draped off her shoulders and edged the deeply scooped neckline, which was the current style. A choker of the satin and lace had been made to accompany it, to which she was able to attach a lovely cameo that had been her mother’s.

  But it was the coiffure that Megan’s maid had created for her that actually made her feel pretty. And to think she had fussed at the girl when she arrived with her scissors and curling irons, and had started snipping away at Kimberly’s bangs. She was apparently adept at the current hairstyles, which was why Megan had sent her to Kimberly for the ball.

  By the time she was done, many long golden locks littered the floor, but the short fluff of bangs that now framed Kimberly’s face and the curls at her temples softened her features considerably. With a bit of powder and rouge added, she hardly recognized herself.

  Lachlan didn’t recognize her either, not at first glance. When he stepped out of his room just as she was passing by he began a general greeting, assuming the St. Jameses had yet another new guest. She didn’t stop, didn’t acknowledge even noticing him, continued to sashay down the hall, and his mouth dropped open as it dawned on him who she was.

  It wasn’t often he was taken so by surprise, yet Lady Kimberly seemed to be making a habit of surprising him. He wanted to grab her back and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing, looking like that. He didn’t. And he kept his mouth shut before he sounded as ridiculous as he felt.

  She’d also surprised him the other night, when he first saw her smile. She was pretty when those dimples made an appearance, really pretty. And he had to wonder how that smile was going to enhance this changed appearance that gave her a unique sort of beauty. He supposed he’d find out during the course of the evening, but he wasn’t looking forward to the effect it would have on him.

  And what surprised him the most was that the woman was affecting him in the strangest ways.

  From the night she’d come pounding on his door in high dudgeon, and he’d reacted out of proportion to it, he’d been doing his best to ignore her and concentrate on his Megan, yet he somehow couldn’t. She kept flitting through his mind when she had no business there. And that kiss they’d shared certainly hadn’t helped.

  He still couldn’t understand why the urge to kiss her had been so compelling. But he certainly wished it hadn’t happened, because he couldn’t stop thinking about that either.

  There was something about that kiss that he’d found highly stirring, the way she’d clung to him, the way she’d opened her mouth to his ravishment, the complete yielding of her soft, supple body against him. And for once he hadn’t gotten a stiff neck, bending to reach her lips. There were some definite benefits to kissing a tall woman, but he could have done without finding that out with his particular woman.

  Tonight, he planned to further his campaign against Megan. He would have the opportunity to dance with her. She wouldn’t refuse him at such an affair. And once he held her in his arms, anything was possible. He had high hopes of breaking through her ridiculous assertion that she was happy with that stodgy Englishman she’d married. She was merely putting on a good face for what was a terrible mistake, and he meant to prove that to the both of them.

  Aye, high hopes, and they did not include mulling over that shrewish, albeit lovely butterfly that just broke out of her cocoon.

  13

  “What the devil? I could’ve sworn she was dancing with someone else just now.”

  “Who?”

  “Lady Kimberly.”

&n
bsp; Megan nodded in a distracted manner, as if her attention didn’t just perk up. She was dancing with Lachlan only because he wouldn’t stop pestering her until she agreed. But that he could notice another woman, at least Kimberly Richards in particular, while he’d been whispering outlandish blandishments and compliments in Megan’s ear…well, she couldn’t have been more pleased.

  Not that she hadn’t thought he was sincere, or rather, she was sure that he thought he was sincere. But for someone who’d heard just about every compliment that could be thought of, she wasn’t impressed.

  She was impressed, however, by the remarkable change in Kimberly Richards, and apparently, so was Lachlan. And just in case he wasn’t aware of it, she decided to emphasize it.

  “She was dancing with someone else, now that you mention it,” she said now. “They’re cutting in on her partners. Not very sporting of them, but young men are so impatient, don’t you know.”

  “I dinna know,” Lachlan grumbled.

  Megan smiled inwardly. He actually sounded a bit jealous. That was certainly more than she could have hoped for at this early date.

  “She’s very popular, it seems,” she continued, watching his expression carefully. “Not flighty, not giggly like the younger girls tend to be, and a very good listener. Men like that in a woman. Oh, and she’s very lovely besides, if you haven’t noticed.”

  He grunted. “You are verra beautiful, Megan, but I dinna see them standing in line tae dance wi’ you as they are wi’ her tonight.”

  She laughed. “I should hope not. Devlin broke these young bucks of that notion long ago. But as for our Kimberly, I would imagine she’ll have a few proposals before we return to Sherring Cross. I should ask her if anyone in particular has caught her fancy yet. Perhaps you would be so good as to take me to her as soon as this dance is over?”