Through it all, he remained quiet and comforting, a solid rock through the storm of her emotions. Her tears spent, Amelia calmed under his soothing caresses.
For such a big man, he certainly is gentle.
She mulled this information while remembering her first glimpse of Tavis McGuire. In the dark it had been too difficult to make out the finer features of his face or figure. All she really saw was a dark, looming shape. Later, when he had been on top of her (Amelia blushed redder remembering what she had felt during that), all she could make out was that he was big and muscled. She remembered the feel of his strong hands grasping her arms and sighed.
“What’s that, lass? Did you say something?” Tavis queried, his big hand pausing in the middle of her back.
Too embarrassed to meet his eyes yet, she shook her head and still kept it on his chest. He continued stroking her hair, taking a few silky strands at a time to twirl around his finger. Amelia was at once mortally embarrassed and contented. It was odd, these contrasting emotions she felt, all too similar to the man called Tavis McGuire.
A good head taller than her own father, this man towered over her. When she saw him in the light of the stables for the first time, she had almost dropped her pitchfork because he was so tall, and massive across the chest and shoulders. She had heard of men who used their size to intimidate and coerce a woman into doing what they wanted. Yet aside from her initial fright when they ran into each other and her instincts to defend had kicked in, she had never been in danger from him.
His face was not conventionally handsome, due to the imposing sharp angles of his cheeks and nose, but when he smiled, those sharp angles softened, making him seem less severe. While everything else about him—impressive height, rugged appearance, and obvious strength—screamed masculinity, his eyes, a startling sapphire blue, were pretty and made him appear more approachable.
Oooh, and his hair! She remembered the silky feel of it as it had caressed her cheek when he leaned over her. He kept it longer than was fashionable, and it curled where it touched his jacket collar. In the light from the lanterns, she saw it was a deep brown streaked with red. Amelia shivered at the memory.
He must have felt it, for his embrace tightened, and he asked in a gruff voice near to her ear, “Are ye cold, then, my lady?” His voice had taken on a different timbre, and her toes curled when his breath tickled the side of her face. She also heard a faint brogue.
Amelia stiffened, deciding it was time to end this pleasant and compromising embrace. “No, Mr. McGuire, but I want you to release me, please.”
Tavis dropped his arms from around her body and stepped back. Immediately, Amelia missed his warmth. She crossed her arms around her sides to warm herself, and though it embarrassed her to do so, she managed to compose herself long enough to look him in the eyes. “I thank you for your comfort while I was distressed. I now realize you did not intend to manhandle me in such a manner, and I would ask your forgiveness for my part in our altercation.”
He seemed uncomfortable too. His face was flushed a dull red, and he kept pulling his shirt away from his neck, almost like his cravat was choking him. Despite his obvious discomfort, he managed a soft chuckle at her words. “Are you referring to when you almost unmanned me, or when you hit my head hard enough to make me see stars?”
She squirmed. “Both.”
“I forgive you as long as you promise to never do it to a man again.”
“What?” Amelia asked, hands on her hips in irritation. “Defend myself?”
Tavis found a bench on the side of one of the stalls and sank down on to it. “Calm down, my lady,” he said. “No, a lass needs to defend herself if needed. I meant the unmanning bit.” He patted a spot next to him on the bench, indicating Amelia should join him. “Where did you learn that, anyway? Do they teach it to young misses at finishing school?”
“My sister taught me it.” Amelia flushed again but moved to sit by Tavis. “And no, I did not learn it at finishing school. I imagine if they had taught a course called ‘How to Unman a Gentleman in Five Simple Moves,’ they would have lost all their pupils when irate parents found out.” Unable to resist a tease, she added, “Of course for you, it only took two moves.”
“I’ll have you know, my lady, if you hadn’t first kicked me in the…er, where you kicked me, it would have taken at least five moves for you to unman me.” He looked so affronted she couldn’t help but laugh. Soon he joined in, and their mutual laughter helped to erase the unease and tension of their accidental first meeting.
Amelia hazarded a glance at Tavis out of the corner of her eyes. He really is a handsome man, especially when he laughs. She chewed on her bottom lip in thought. But who is he?
Even through the haze of fatigue settling over her body and the maelstrom of emotions she had experienced this evening, she was still enough in charge of her senses to maintain her suspicions about Mr. Tavis McGuire.
“So, Mr. McGuire,” Amelia said, “who exactly are you, and what are you doing in the stables alone at this time of night?” Her eyebrows rose, and she stared down her nose at him in what she hoped was a close approximation of her mother’s no-nonsense look.
“How about if I tell you why I am here in the stables, and you tell me what you are doing here.” He waggled his eyebrows and lowered his voice. “Alone and at this time of night.”
“What are you implying, Mr. McGuire?” Her temper sparked, she grew warm at his accusation and jumped up from her perch on the bench to stand in front of him. “Are you saying I came down here alone to conduct some sort of illicit assignation?” As she spoke, she punctuated each word with a poke to his chest.
He grabbed her fingers mid-poke. “I guess it’s true what they say about redheads having a foul temper. That’s twice you’ve nearly taken my head off for asking a simple question.”
She wrenched her fingers free from his grasp and yelled, “I don’t have a foul temper, you big cack-headed buffoon!” He continued to sit there, regarding her with wry amusement until she realized what she said.
Straightening her skirts, she tried to control her raging temper. “Ahem, that is to say, I don’t usually have a foul temper.” He looked at her, doubt evident in his eyes. “You,” she said, “have succeeded in bringing out the worst in me, that’s all.”
Recapturing her hand, he pulled her down to sit by him once again. “Then I beg your pardon, my lady. I meant no insult.” He began running his thumb along the underside of her wrist by her pulse.
Amelia snatched her hand back and mumbled her own apologies. “You’re right, Mr. McGuire. I do seem to be ill tempered this evening, and I beg your forgiveness.” She turned her head away from the all-too-knowing eyes of Tavis McGuire in embarrassment. How many times must I apologize to this man?
“Why do you suppose that is?” he asked.
“I imagine,” she replied, “it has something to do with being accosted outside my father’s stables by an unknown person.” Eyeing him with obvious displeasure, she took her leave of the bench and walked over to the stable door to look up at the night sky.
“Your father’s stables?” She whirled around, startled by his sudden nearness, and found herself trapped between a wall and a very tall, very dangerous-looking man. True, he had spoken casually, almost as if he didn’t care, but Amelia heard an underlying tone in his voice.
She gulped and looked up. He was so tall she had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes. What she saw caused a shiver to run up her spine. Those bright blue eyes, which had sparkled with laughter moments earlier, were now shadowed by heavy lids, and some indiscernible emotion brewed in their gleaming depths.
“Y-yes,” she stammered. “That’s why I came down here, to see my horse in my father’s stables.” Amelia gestured down the row of stalls toward where her horse was stabled. Still, he remained towering over her as he peered into her face.
He was so close to her now she saw a small scar above his left eyebrow. It was no longer than an inch, but it was a silvery trace
that only added to his rugged good looks. His warm breath fanned her cheeks and sent pleasant tingles down her spine. Unlike the last time she had been cornered by a man, Tavis’s breath was spicy-sweet and held a faint tinge of the cigar he had smoked. He lowered his face until he was eye level with Amelia. Darting her tongue out to wet her lips, she watched as his eyes darkened further.
He’s going to kiss me.
Far from being alarmed, a heated anticipation hummed through her veins and curled in her belly. Of their own volition, her eyes closed, and she leaned toward him.
Chapter 6
After several seconds of pursed lips and heated anticipation, Amelia realized no kiss was coming. She shifted into his chest and asked, “Tavis?” When he failed to respond, she opened her eyes to peek up at him from beneath her lashes, and with his face so close to her own, Amelia was able to discern he didn’t look like a man who was ready to kiss a woman. Confusion and embarrassment replaced her desire, and she asked, “Is something wrong?”
Though she attempted to pull away, Tavis snaked his arms around her waist and held her fast to him. Bending his head, he nuzzled her neck with his nose.
“No, mo ghrádh. I was momentarily stunned by your beauty.”
Amelia knew Tavis was keeping something from her. She had seen it in his eyes when he towered over her so dark and brooding before. Yet in spite of her apprehension, she couldn’t help the unexpected flare of happiness his compliment brought, even if he wasn’t being completely honest with her. “Tavis…” she demurred, blushing a lovely shade of pink.
“It’s true. No man has told you that before?”
She lowered her head and shook it. He cupped her chin with his hand and raised her head so she was forced to look him in the eyes. “Men in England must be blind,” he whispered. “Because you surely are the prettiest lass this side of Scotland.”
Tavis took a blunt finger and stroked her cheek. Helpless to stop, Amelia leaned into his caress as a flower leans toward the sun. “You have such fine skin, soft as silk and the color of fresh cream.” He tapped the end of her nose with his finger. “Except for when you blush. Then you turn a lovely shade of pink.” She laughed, a breathless nervous sound to her own ears. “And your eyes…” His fingers traced an arched eyebrow. “They are so expressive, showing everything you think and feel.” He bent closer so his forehead rested against hers. “A man could lose himself in your eyes.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Amelia reveled in the soft seduction of Tavis’s words. They flowed like liquid light through her veins, warming her in a way she had never felt before. No man had ever spoken to her in such reverent, adoring tones, and she found she was quite drunk from the experience.
Her arms broke out into goose flesh, and she shivered as she realized how close she was to falling under this man’s spell. Tavis was unlike any other man she had ever met, mostly because of how focused he was on her. She had always wondered what it would be like to hold the attention of someone as masculine as Tavis. Now she knew. It was like being bathed in the summer sun—at first the light from gentle rays only kisses delicate skin, but the danger of being burned is much too real to not be cautious.
Too much time with Tavis and I will easily be burned. How can I ever hope to keep my heart safe when his very touch sets me aflame?
Though Tavis had never indicated in either word or deed he was anything less than a gentleman, Amelia could attest to the unleashed power humming under his smooth façade. She suspected Tavis McGuire could burn her quite badly indeed.
“Dance with me, Amelia,” Tavis said breaking into her gloomy thoughts. She looked at him, wondering what had prompted him to suggest a dance in the stables, but Tavis only grinned a slow, seductive smile to her in return. As he unwrapped her hands from around his neck, he laced their fingers together and raised her hand to his lips. Placing gentle kisses on her palm and the inside of her wrist, he urged again, “Dance with me, Amelia. Let me hold you under the stars.”
She nodded, not wanting this dream to end. Hand in hand, she allowed Tavis to lead her into the moonlight waiting just outside the stable doors.
“Now, this is a setting worthy of a dance.” Tavis motioned around him. Amelia had to agree. He had led them into a small clearing outside the stable doors. It was bordered by a ring of towering oaks and fragrant fruit trees. The exotic smell of gardenia drifted down from the greenhouse, and its heady fragrance permeated the clearing. A small breeze rustled the grass and blew strands of Amelia’s curls onto her cheeks. She brushed them away, too overwhelmed by new sensations to fully appreciate the beauty of her surroundings.
High in the sky, the moon bathed the grounds with its muted light. At this location, the music from the ball could be heard loudly enough to dance to. The liquid strains of a waltz floated on the air to Tavis and Amelia.
She looked up at him, too afraid to speak lest the spell of the past few moments be broken. He must have felt it too, because he stared at her for several heartbeats before flashing an endearingly lopsided grin. “With the moonlight to guide us and the stars to accent your beauty, no ballroom could ever compare.” He gave a bow and offered her his hand. “My lady?” She curtsied and put her hand in his. With a triumphant smile, he gathered her up into his arms and led her around the clearing.
Dancing with Tavis is like dancing on a cloud.
For such a big man, he was light on his feet. He held her with solid surety in his embrace, the strength of his arms guiding her in the intricate steps of the waltz. Though several inches separated them, as deemed proper by society, she was attuned to the shifting muscles of his legs through the layers of her skirt. Also, dark as it was, she could still make out the glittering intensity of his eyes, which were trained on her with enough force to leave her lightheaded.
He intrigued her as no man ever had before, and, if she were being honest with herself, she was attracted to him. Blushing at the remembrance of her wanton behavior in the stables, Amelia knew had he not stopped her, she would have kissed him.
Amelia sighed. She was disappointed he hadn’t kissed her, even if he had shown more restraint and more care for her reputation than she in not doing so.
Because in his arms I would have tossed aside twenty years of carefully bred propriety for one kiss from this man. And more.
Though still a maid, she did understand what happened between a man and a woman. Bea had made sure of that. Amelia giggled to herself, remembering that embarrassing (and revealing) conversation shortly after Beatrice had wed.
“You need to be prepared, Mimi,” Bea had said. “Our mother did nothing to prepare me for my wedding night, and it was unpleasant.” Bea’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Had she told me anything about what was to happen or how to make it more pleasurable, it could have been better.” She thought for a minute and then revised her statement. “Well, less painful at least.”
Beatrice had described in excruciating detail exactly what to expect. At first, Amelia was too shocked and embarrassed to think about that aspect of a marriage, but looking at Tavis, Amelia knew in her heart that if he were hers, she would let him do all Beatrice had described and more.
Which brings us back to why Tavis doesn’t want to kiss me.
If she had read the situation correctly, and based on Bea’s detailed analysis of the male libido she was certain she had, Tavis had wanted to kiss her as much as she had wanted to be kissed. So why had he stopped?
She must have sighed again, because his warm, husky voice filled her ear. “What thoughts have you sighing so, my lady?”
Amelia snapped out of her lust-filled thoughts and blushed hotly, but without time to prepare herself, she blurted out, “I was wondering why you didn’t kiss me in the stables.”
“Ah, uh, that is to say…” Tavis stammered and faltered on his footing, the first stumble in their otherwise perfect dance. He regained the rhythm of the dance and resumed the steps when she peeked up at him through her lashes. He appeared to be in deep concentratio
n.
“I did want to kiss you, my lady,” he said. “However, I did not want to compromise you. You are a lady, and I am a gentleman.” He cleared his throat and finished, while avoiding Amelia’s eyes, “There are rules.”
Though Amelia didn’t like his answer, she knew he was right. Out alone under the stars with Tavis it was easy to forget they had not been properly introduced and that she should not be dancing alone with him so far away from the house and any chaperones.
The music from the house stopped, and he ended their dance on a graceful twirl. Bowing over her hand, he kissed it and looked up into her eyes. “Our waltz has ended,” he said. When she didn’t respond, he added, “It approaches midnight, my lady.”
Her eyes snapped to attention from whatever thoughts had been occupying her mind. “What?” she squeaked, scanning the clearing and the house beyond. “Midnight?”
“Yes, I’m afraid it’s time to say goodbye. Someone must be looking for you.”
Amelia wondered how he knew she had an appointment to keep. “Er, you are right, I guess,” she said, startled by the sudden steely light found in his gaze. “I guess I didn’t realize how late it was, and I do have someone to meet.”
“Who are you meeting?” he demanded. “Do you have a beau you were planning on meeting here when you ran into me?”
“No,” she said in confusion, once again surprised by his reaction to her news, especially when moments ago he had told her it was time for them to part. “My mother insists I meet a gentleman at twelve. That’s why I needed to know the time. She’ll kill me if I don’t show up again.”
A strange light entered Tavis’s eyes, and the tight lines around his mouth and eyes only seemed to deepen at her words. “Is this a habit of yours, to avoid meeting gentlemen your mother wants you to meet?”
She laughed. “All the time. The last gentleman she introduced me to was seventy if he was a day, and he stank like a distillery.”
“Does your mystery man have a name?” he asked.
Little White Lies Page 5