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.She wasadorable, Duncan decided.The villagers had finally gotten their feast, thanks to Galan, Duncan, and theenthusiastic castle staff who had planned it without awaiting further input or permission.While Circenn and Lisa had wandered about, oblivious and infatuated, the residents ofCastle Brodie had finalized the plans, simply informing the couple when the celebrationwould be.The laird's blossoming romance with his lady had infused the estate withgood humor.Duncan conceded that they'd done an astonishing job; the staff had devoted loving careto transforming Castle Brodie for the festivities.Brilliantly lit by hundreds of rushlights,the hall was warm, the atmosphere most conducive to romance.Rippling banners ofcrimson and black Brodie tartan decked the walls.Thirty long tables formed a rectanglearound the room, each laden with a sumptuous feast.The musicians gathered behind thelaird's table at the head of the hall, while in the center of the rectangle, on the floorcleared for dancing, couples, children, even an occasional wolfhound indulged the fierceScot penchant for celebrating.In such a war-torn land, any cause was reason to feast asif there was no tomorrow, because there might not be.The musicians were playing asprightly, edgy tune and the dancers faced the challenge with relish.As feet flew, thetempo increased, and ripples of laughter broke out as they kept pace with the freneticbeat."Look at them," Galan said softly.Duncan didn't have to ask whom he meant; Galan's eyes were fixed on Lisa andCircenn, as were many other eyes in the room.The laird and his lady were clearly intheir own universe, absorbed in each other.Duncan had heard the strange note in Galan's voice and now gazed at him sharply,seeing his older brother in a new light."They are so in love." Galan sounded weary, and longing infused his voice.Duncan frowned, confounded by a new and uncomfortable sensation as if he were theolder brother and should take care of Galan.It occurred to him that Galan was thirtyyears old and had single-mindedly devoted the past ten years of his life to warring forScotland's independence.That didn't leave much time for a disciplined warrior to tastethe comforts of family and home life.How had he failed to see that Galan, in the midstof all the warriors and the fighting and the splendid wenching to be had, was lonely?"Wasn't there a lass in Edinburgh you visited when last we were there?" Duncan asked.Galan glowered."Doona try to finagle a match for me, little brother.I'm fine."Duncan lifted a brow.How often had Galan assured him that he was fine, and Duncanhad gone about his merry way, leaving him alone? Bewildered by his new insight, heuneasily filed the subject away for future consideration.His brother needed a woman, but not in the way Duncan needed a woman; Galan needed a wife."Think you they will have children?" Duncan changed the subject, noting Galan relaxvisibly when he did so."Bah! If they haven't already conceived one.I hear they have taken over one of yourfavored tupping spots.""My bothy?" Duncan exclaimed indignantly."A man can't have any privacy."Neither brother spoke for a time, each absorbed in his own thoughts.The musicianscommenced a slow, haunting ballad and the dancers moved into more intimateembraces.Suddenly Galan said, "Och, by Dagda look yonder, Duncan.Who is that stunninglass?" He pointed across the hall."Too lovely for me, that's for certain."Duncan glanced swiftly where Galan pointed, his body tightening with anticipation.Toolovely for me was the slap of an irresistible gauntlet to Duncan.He adored such words,his innate maleness rose to them aggressively; he'd long been restless and ready forsomething different."Where? I see no one of note." Duncan craned his neck to peer through the crowd.When the dancers parted for a moment, he glimpsed a mane of shimmering red hair.Hesucked in a breath."The redhead.Is she the one you meant? You know what they sayfire on top, fiery tup."Galan punched him in the arm."Is that all you ever think about? There she is again."The dancers moved apart again, and this time the woman was turned slightly towardthem.Duncan's brows lifted as heat lanced through his groin.She was exquisite.Masses ofred hair, streaked with blond and honey, spilled over her shoulders.Her face wasdelicate, pointed at the chin with high cheekbones and dark eyes.Her lips were full.Ridiculously full.Erotically full.Come suck me full, he thought irritably.No womanshould have lips so lush and plump.Her skin was flawlessly translucent, her lips aperfect rose.And full.Composed and graceful, she exuded confidence that he would soon shatter with hisseductive charm [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.She wasadorable, Duncan decided.The villagers had finally gotten their feast, thanks to Galan, Duncan, and theenthusiastic castle staff who had planned it without awaiting further input or permission.While Circenn and Lisa had wandered about, oblivious and infatuated, the residents ofCastle Brodie had finalized the plans, simply informing the couple when the celebrationwould be.The laird's blossoming romance with his lady had infused the estate withgood humor.Duncan conceded that they'd done an astonishing job; the staff had devoted loving careto transforming Castle Brodie for the festivities.Brilliantly lit by hundreds of rushlights,the hall was warm, the atmosphere most conducive to romance.Rippling banners ofcrimson and black Brodie tartan decked the walls.Thirty long tables formed a rectanglearound the room, each laden with a sumptuous feast.The musicians gathered behind thelaird's table at the head of the hall, while in the center of the rectangle, on the floorcleared for dancing, couples, children, even an occasional wolfhound indulged the fierceScot penchant for celebrating.In such a war-torn land, any cause was reason to feast asif there was no tomorrow, because there might not be.The musicians were playing asprightly, edgy tune and the dancers faced the challenge with relish.As feet flew, thetempo increased, and ripples of laughter broke out as they kept pace with the freneticbeat."Look at them," Galan said softly.Duncan didn't have to ask whom he meant; Galan's eyes were fixed on Lisa andCircenn, as were many other eyes in the room.The laird and his lady were clearly intheir own universe, absorbed in each other.Duncan had heard the strange note in Galan's voice and now gazed at him sharply,seeing his older brother in a new light."They are so in love." Galan sounded weary, and longing infused his voice.Duncan frowned, confounded by a new and uncomfortable sensation as if he were theolder brother and should take care of Galan.It occurred to him that Galan was thirtyyears old and had single-mindedly devoted the past ten years of his life to warring forScotland's independence.That didn't leave much time for a disciplined warrior to tastethe comforts of family and home life.How had he failed to see that Galan, in the midstof all the warriors and the fighting and the splendid wenching to be had, was lonely?"Wasn't there a lass in Edinburgh you visited when last we were there?" Duncan asked.Galan glowered."Doona try to finagle a match for me, little brother.I'm fine."Duncan lifted a brow.How often had Galan assured him that he was fine, and Duncanhad gone about his merry way, leaving him alone? Bewildered by his new insight, heuneasily filed the subject away for future consideration.His brother needed a woman, but not in the way Duncan needed a woman; Galan needed a wife."Think you they will have children?" Duncan changed the subject, noting Galan relaxvisibly when he did so."Bah! If they haven't already conceived one.I hear they have taken over one of yourfavored tupping spots.""My bothy?" Duncan exclaimed indignantly."A man can't have any privacy."Neither brother spoke for a time, each absorbed in his own thoughts.The musicianscommenced a slow, haunting ballad and the dancers moved into more intimateembraces.Suddenly Galan said, "Och, by Dagda look yonder, Duncan.Who is that stunninglass?" He pointed across the hall."Too lovely for me, that's for certain."Duncan glanced swiftly where Galan pointed, his body tightening with anticipation.Toolovely for me was the slap of an irresistible gauntlet to Duncan.He adored such words,his innate maleness rose to them aggressively; he'd long been restless and ready forsomething different."Where? I see no one of note." Duncan craned his neck to peer through the crowd.When the dancers parted for a moment, he glimpsed a mane of shimmering red hair.Hesucked in a breath."The redhead.Is she the one you meant? You know what they sayfire on top, fiery tup."Galan punched him in the arm."Is that all you ever think about? There she is again."The dancers moved apart again, and this time the woman was turned slightly towardthem.Duncan's brows lifted as heat lanced through his groin.She was exquisite.Masses ofred hair, streaked with blond and honey, spilled over her shoulders.Her face wasdelicate, pointed at the chin with high cheekbones and dark eyes.Her lips were full.Ridiculously full.Erotically full.Come suck me full, he thought irritably.No womanshould have lips so lush and plump.Her skin was flawlessly translucent, her lips aperfect rose.And full.Composed and graceful, she exuded confidence that he would soon shatter with hisseductive charm [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]