Off Kilter (25 page)

Very deliberately, she ran her fingers along his face, his cheeks, his jaw, along the sides of his neck, around the rim of his ears, into his hair, along his scalp, then back along his temples. He kept his gaze on her the entire time, and she watched him right back. She hoped he understood what she was telling him.

She had no idea how to go about it, but she wanted him to know, when she pulled his mouth down to hers, that she was, for once, very specifically kissing
him.
With no other intent but that he sense what it was she felt when he kissed her.

She’d never thought of herself as a gentle person, so it surprised her that she found it easy to taste his mouth, take him in slowly, sip, tease, touch. She’d never thought herself particularly playful; her world was far too serious, too tense, for such a luxury. She’d always wondered how it was that people who
were so oppressed could still retain their joy, their positive spirit, their hope. She marveled at it, even while she couldn’t help feeling they were doomed to learn otherwise. That there was no hope, and there would be no end to the oppression. Yet, they soldiered on, in spite of the harsh fate life dealt them.

Oppression had hardened her … and she’d simply been an observer. How was it they’d kept themselves open to joy when she’d only watched and felt as if it had been bludgeoned out of her very psyche a long time ago?

But joy was the emotion infusing her, filling her with a warmth that came from somewhere deep inside her. She felt there was a bottomless well, as if it had always been there for the taking, but she hadn’t known where to find it, or how to draw from it.

She moved his mouth onto hers so she could kiss him fully, deeply. Maybe he would feel her surprise and the banked excitement that was beginning to grow at the dawning of a new discovery.

Moving her hands to his neck, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, and, quite shockingly, joyously, kissed him with a happy exuberance that made her want to shout out loud, with laughter and a sense of freedom such as she’d never known.

He groaned as she poured all of herself into the kiss, smiling against his mouth, marveling at the laughter that was bubbling up inside her. How was it possible for any one person to feel this good? And all because of a connection being shared with someone who wanted everything she had to give.

Roan was grinning when he broke the kiss, though there was a stunned look in his eyes—which were glassy with emotion.

She was swamped with that same emotion, and feeling gloriously alive because of it.

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head slightly.

“I know,” she crowed, too pleased with herself to worry how that must sound. “I think I’m getting it.”

“Oh, aye, I think ye can safely say that much.” He laughed in the face of her obvious glee, even as he shook his head. “No’
to look at a gift such as that with anything less than abject appreciation, which I can guarantee you I have … but where did that come from? From where we were … how did you get to that?

“I … got it from inside me,” she marveled, feeling an almost overwhelming desire to wriggle with pleasure. There was a victory dance inside her just dying to get out.

“What was it you were thinking about, when you took that picture of me? I’ve never seen you like that, your expression so focused … and then almost beatific.”

“I can’t—I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “Not yet. Not because I won’t, I will. I just … this is so new. And so wild. I—for now, I just want to stay in the moment. I’ll be analyzing it to death later for certain. There are things …” She paused, then grinned. “Wow. There are things I really want to tell you. I actually really do.”

“Good,” he said. “Bloody brilliant, in fact. But—”

“Can we go back and take some pictures?” she said, anxious to move on from the moment, and preserve it perfectly as it had been. “From where we were just standing? Oh, and can you explain to me how on earth this would work as a magazine spread location? And more about the trail to the fortress?”

“Aye, I can, and I will,” he said, amused, but still looking like his world had been rocked.

Join the club, she wanted to tell him. He’d been making her feel that way on a regular basis since they’d first crossed paths. It would do him good to be on the receiving end for a change.

He started to shift away from her, back to ledge, but she held on for just another moment, until he looked back at her. “If it’s okay with you, after that, I’d really like it if you’d hold my hand while we climb back out of here.”

His grin was fast and perfect, even though surprise showed clearly on his face. “I will hold your hand always, luv.”

She felt her cheeks warm a little. That was … new. And kind of nice, actually. “I just … I just want to feel. Okay? I don’t want to think.”

“As long as the eventual thinkin’ doesnae turn things back to—”

“No,” she said almost defiantly, more to herself than to him. “No. There is no going back. Not now.” She looked at him, and wondered if he saw anything that looked like hope in her eyes. And joy. “I know where I’m going, Roan,” she said, bursting to say it out loud. Hearing it, stating it, made it feel that much more real. “Finally. Thank God. I think I’ve figured it out.”

She could see on his face the dozens, if not hundreds, of questions he was dying to ask, but didn’t, because he was letting her feel. Letting her be in her moment. That settled something inside of her, that which always got jerky and nervous and anxious. He got it. He got her. She truly couldn’t wait to tell him everything. It should feel odd, awkward, or, at the very least, portentous and nerve-wracking, to want to share something—anything—with someone else. It was all of those things, but the overriding emotion when she looked at him in that moment was excitement.

She reached to touch his face. “Trust me, okay? You need to trust me. You’ve asked me to take huge leaps of faith with you. This is the leap you have to take with me. I don’t have all the answers yet. But I want to share the ones I do. I won’t run. And I won’t hide.”

“As long as you’ll talk to me. Tell me. Share the dreams, even if I’m no’ included in them. Don’t keep them inside. Good or bad. You dinnae have to analyze and ponder and figure it all out by yourself, ye ken, aye?”

“Aye,” she said. “I ken that … and a lot more. No one is more surprised than me, but I’m actually looking forward to talking to you. I think you’ll help me figure it out the rest of the way. I do. In fact, you’re quite possibly the only one who could.”

He smiled at that, then he grinned. “Now ‘tis you who looks verily gobsmacked, just at the idea of it.”

“I am. But it’s a rather glorious gob, isn’t it?”

“I believe ye might be right.” He shifted his face so he could press a kiss in the palm of her hand.

And she was undone by him all over again. There was excitement, and anticipation, not dread, or fear. “Roan.”

He’d begun to edge them around, but paused and looked back. “What, luv?”

She wondered how long it was going to take before the hot little thrill she got when he said that would cease to have that effect. She hoped it was a very long time. “Thank you.”

He looked surprised again, and more than a little pleased. “For?”

“Being patient. Understanding. Not pushing.”

The laugh barked out of him. “Right. I’ve tried to be understanding, but I’ve been utter crap at the patience part. I’ve done nothing but push ye.”

“Then maybe I should say thank you for explaining yourself, and what you want from me. Then giving me some space to figure out what I want. And what to do about it.”

He grinned. “I’d like to take credit for that, but we both know I’d have likely been pushin’ again before I even returned ye to Kira’s. It’s only because you came around to it so quickly that I’m looking like the good guy here.”

“You are a good guy, Roan McAuley.”

His dimple flashed. “You’re just sayin’ that because you want my body.”

Much like that day with the calendar shots and the kilt, she realized that he was maybe the tiniest bit uncomfortable being the direct recipient of praise and attention. When she’d first met him, she’d mistaken his good-natured charm as a kind of grandstanding for attention that was typical of men who looked the way he did. In her experience, anyway. But he just liked to put everyone around him at ease, make them smile, laugh a little. He wasn’t comfortable in the spotlight himself.
Interesting.

“I do want your body,” she said, and had the pleasure of watching that constant sizzle of attraction between them make his green eyes go dark with want. “But I’m equally attracted to
your mind.” She smiled. “And your humor. Your generosity. Your strength. Your thoughtfulness. Your sensitivity.”

He was all but squirming—which meant she had it exactly right, and was the most endearing part of all.

“That is what you wanted, right?” she asked, discovering the pleasure in being the one to say the things that made him think and feel. Maybe shake him up a little, force him to be the one to step outside his comfort zone. “You want me to be interested in all of you.” She held his gaze intently. “And I am.”

She swore she saw him swallow. Hard.

Her smile widened to a grin. It was turning out to be fun in ways she hadn’t even begun to consider.

She winked at
him.
Imagine that! “Be careful what you wish for, Mr. December.”

H
e’d deeply underestimated her, which was about as stupid a thing as he’d ever done. The woman was nothing if not an overachiever. He’d been hopeful, of course, that she’d come around to giving him a chance. He’d thought it would take a lot of careful nudges and patience beyond anything he thought he might actually have, not to mention an inordinate amount of self-control. All of which he’d pretty much figured he’d be a spectacular failure at, given his track record with her thus far.

When he’d gone to the croft yesterday, he’d already wanted Tessa for what felt like an eternity, which made no sense considering he’d known her less than a month, but there it was. Like eons stretched out, end to end, that’s how long it felt he’d waited, just to find her. Now that he had, he wanted it all so badly he could taste it. So badly, he stayed half hard pretty much at all times. When she got even close to his personal space—hell, when she so much as glanced at him—he went straight to the edge.

And that had been when she was actively trying to push him away.

He wasn’t sure how he’d survive now that she had her sights set on him.

“She’s coming to pick you up? In Kira’s little death pod?”

“Aye. Any minute. We’ll take the lorry, though. I don’t fancy spending possibly my last moments inside a tin trap.” Roan
stared at the e-mail detailing the latest order from their newest client in Italy. A shoe designer, of all things. Seems they wanted to add the artisan basketry to their showroom floor. Said it went with the Tuscan influence and natural sunlight and … he didn’t rightly understand the rest, but it didn’t matter. They wanted several of the more expensive pieces still in inventory and were going to commission Kira, specifically, to do two more.

Shay sifted through the mail that had piled up while he’d been in Edinburgh. “Are the contracts in here from the Malaysian distributor you told me about?”

“What?” Roan looked up, not that he’d been all that absorbed in the e-mail. He already knew what it said. He was just trying to look busy and focused for Shay’s sake. The last thing he needed was a lecture on his love life. He’d heard the one before about handing his heart away to someone who couldn’t take proper care of it, and though it had been quite a long time since Shay had needed to deliver it, Roan wasn’t in any mood for a repeat performance. Especially where Tessa was concerned. It was perfectly fine for him to be sitting there, quietly freaking out over the monumental step he was taking in his life, but if anyone else wanted to offer up a less than lovely opinion on the matter, or Tessa herself, then he couldn’t promise he’d remain civil in her defense. Even with his closest mates.

He felt intensely protective of her, which should have made him smile, because she’d personally want to kick his sorry arse for thinking she needed protection of any kind in the first place. A more fiercely independent woman he’d never met. He rather liked that she could take care of herself. Though it didn’t diminish his concern for her welfare, it was a comforting thing to know she could hold her own. But perversely, that only served to amp up his protective sensibilities further. That very ferocity of hers, coupled with her capableness, could lead her to jump into God only knew what kinds of situations. She thought she was superwoman, and in many dazzling ways she was. But in many other ways, she was just as vulnerable, insecure, and
prone to self-doubt as anybody. Maybe more so. He thought of the glimpses she’d given him into what she was really grappling with on Kinloch.

“Hullo? Malaysia contracts?”

Roan blinked out of his latest Tessa reverie, which had been an almost constant state for him since he’d dropped her off at Kira’s yesterday after those life-altering moments spent out on that ledge. In many ways, he was still out on a ledge.

“Not yet,” he replied, clicking open a reply window to the Italian buyer’s note. “There was an issue with the shipping time frame, but I was able to negotiate a compromise and I think we’re all set. You’ll need to give that part special attention, though. Nice guy, and enthusiastic, which we like, but I think that’s partly a mechanism to get us to drop our guard. I wouldn’t put it past him to try to slide in some proprietary language that’ll give him an advantage when competing with our other retailers.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Shay said, sounding somewhat distracted himself, as he continued sorting the mail into stacks. “So, what happened yesterday?”

Roan paused in typing his response. He looked up warily. “What about yesterday?”

Shay didn’t even glance up. “Half the island is talking about it. And that’s only because the other half is listening to the first half.”