"Pray pardon," Jessie said with another curtsy. "I must see if Cook has the tarts baked yet."
With a frown, Torrin watched her flee the room, then looked to Isobel.
She shrugged.
"Don't be thinking you'll steal Isobel back from me," Dirk said, placing his arm protectively around her shoulders.
Isobel flushed all over as she glanced up at Dirk and relished the way his big warm hand caressed her shoulder. A slight smile quirked his lips.
"Och, nay," Torrin said. "I wish the two of you happy." He shook Dirk's hand and ambled away.
"Hmph. He took it well that I stole his bride," Dirk said.
Isobel gave him a tight smile for she was still annoyed and confused about why he hadn't told her about their marriage arrangements. Being the bride and one of the last to know was humiliating.
"Could I have a word?" Dirk murmured, his breath warming and tickling her ear.
"Aye." So now he was going to tell her, after everyone knew?
She followed Dirk's gesture to precede him toward the corridor leading to the library. It must have been his favorite room.
Once they were inside, he closed the door.
"Are you cross with me again?" Dirk asked. "I couldn't help but notice those glares you threw my way after Cyrus made the announcement."
"You could've told me, at least," she said.
"What?"
Could he truly be so daft? She blew out an exasperated breath. "'Tis humiliating to learn, along with the rest of your clan, about our upcoming nuptials. Neither you nor my brother would take a minute to tell me what you were arranging."
Dirk frowned. "I'm sorry. I thought you'd be pleased."
"About what? That no one bothered to ask me who I wanted to marry?"
He gave her a long, dark look. "I'm not senseless, Isobel, and neither is Cyrus. We both ken you want to marry me instead of Torrin."
She bit her lip, refusing to look at him. So he was right. That wasn't the point. She supposed she should be grateful her brother wasn't marrying her off to a wizened old coot this time.
Dirk drew her close. "Isobel?" He tipped her chin up. "Look at me."
Trying to maintain her ire despite how good he felt, she stared at his stubbly chin, but then his sensual lips distracted her. She wanted them on her.
"Your brother was going to call you in here and find out your opinion on the matter," Dirk said. "But we had to go out and deal with the MacLeods."
She shrugged. "He has no concern about my opinion. Nor do you."
"'Tis not true. But you're right about one thing. Where marriage is concerned, I neglected to ask the most important person." He lowered himself to one knee. "Lady Isobel, will you do me the honor of becoming my bride?"
As she stared down into his intent and hopeful bright blue gaze, tears rushed to her eyes. "Are you certain you don't feel forced into it?" she asked, though her throat constricted.
"Are you mad?" He rose and stroked his thumb across her cheek, wiping her tears away. "I can think of little else."
"In that case… Aye, I would love to," she whispered. "I can think of little else either."
Switching his attention to her hand, he kissed her knuckles and slid a ring onto her finger.
She sucked in a sharp breath, staring down in shock at the dark blue stone of the sapphire ring. Happiness spun through her, bringing more tears to her eyes. "Oh, Dirk. Where did you get this?"
"'Twas my mother's." He smiled, wiggling the ring on her finger. "'Tis a bit big, but we'll have it modified to fit."
"'Tis lovely. I thank you."
"You're welcome." He kissed her forehead.
Though she loved the affectionate gesture, she hungered for a different sort of kiss from him to seal the betrothal.
"Do you forgive me?" he asked.
"Aye. If you promise not to keep me in the dark again."
He hesitated as if thinking that over. "I promise. If 'tis something that involves you, I'll be sure to tell you first."
She didn't like that pause before his answer. "Are you certain?"
"Of course. Do you not trust me?"
"I do. But you must remember not to treat me like a piece of furniture or a sheep the way my brother does."
Dirk chuckled.
"You think that's funny? How would you like it if women decided your future?"
"Pray pardon. I only found it funny because I could never in a thousand years treat you like furniture or a sheep." He snorted as if that was ridiculous. "Nay, you are… the most important person to me." His look grew sincere and almost passionate.
Warmth spread through her chest because she thought he was trying to tell her he cared about her. Maybe he was even trying to tell her he loved her, but she couldn't be sure. She wouldn't make him feel trapped into anything, not even in expressing his feelings.
"And you are the most important person to me," she said.
He continued watching her, his azure eyes communicating longing, need, desire, happiness and a dozen other things.
Stubborn man, why did he not kiss her?
Impatience winning out, she whispered, "May I kiss you?"
"Isobel," he groaned softly and clenched his teeth. "You ken what happens when we kiss."
"Aye, indeed." A bonfire of need and desire, and that was exactly what she craved at the moment. "I missed you during the past few days. I almost never saw you. I think you were avoiding me."
"I was trying to keep myself under control, and you ken I'll not want to stop with a kiss," he confessed.
"Nor will I."
He frowned, looking even more aroused and frustrated. "We must. There's a hall full of guests out there, part of them your family and clan."
She shrugged. "Cyrus approved our betrothal. What can he say? If he finds out we've shared a bed, he'll merely demand that we marry quicker. Besides, we can bar the door and no one will walk in."
Dirk stepped forward, leaned in and brushed his mouth across hers, sending delicious sensual shivers over her whole body. "Damnation. You crush my willpower," he whispered, then captured her lips in one of those devastating kisses he was so skilled with. His hands encircled her waist, drawing her closer. She slid her arms around his neck and held on. He kissed her thoroughly and deep, his mouth as intoxicating as the spiced, sweet wine he tasted of. After a moment of the carnal indulgence, he pulled back and released her as if trying to rein himself under control.
Finding the bar standing against the doorframe, she lifted it and slid it down into the brackets. No one could enter now.
"What are you doing?" Dirk asked.
"I think you ken." She sent him a mischievous smile. "Ravishing you."
Chapter Twenty-Five
"Ravishing me?" One side of Dirk's lips quirked up. "In the library? You are mad."
"Indeed." Isobel crept forward, enjoying the surprised and amused expression on Dirk's handsome face.
"We cannot," he protested, his eyes still dark blue and heavy-lidded from that scorching kiss.
"I think we can. No one is stopping us, and no one will know of it."
"Listen." He turned his head to stare at the door.
The loud music of the céilidh had started in the great hall and someone was singing a lively tune. Feet were stomping and hands were clapping.