‘What happened, lassie? Are you hurt?’ The kindly housekeeper reached out to help her from Keir’s arms, but the Laird’s almost warning glare made her drop them down by her sides again immediately.
‘I’m not hurt. I’m fine—honestly…I told Keir I was fine! I simply slipped on the wet grass because I was hurrying to get out of the storm, that’s all.’ Her teeth chattering, but on her feet once more, Georgia glanced at the other woman with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘Can I ask you if you’d mind seeing to Hamish? He’s gone round to the back door. I just need to get out of these wet clothes and go and get a hot shower.’
‘Of course I will, my dear! You go and get yourself dry before you catch your death!’
‘Thanks…I appreciate it.’
Withdrawing from them, hating being the centre of attention, Georgia stepped quickly away from the protection of Keir’s warm, hard body to cross the chequered entrance hall and start ascending the grand winding staircase.
‘I’ve put your dinner in the oven to keep warm,’ Moira called up behind her. ‘You come down and have it when you’re ready.’
Even though the spray from the shower had been wonderfully reassuring and hot, Georgia sat in her towelling robe on the edge of the quaintly old-fashioned— brass bed and sensed her body shiver as though it might never stop.
What had possessed Keir to pick her up and carry her like that? As though he wanted to put himself between her and harm? The threatened storm might have secretly terrified her, but she was far more scared of the torrent of wild feelings that gripped her whenever he came near.
Staring at the wall, she recalled the look of surprise on Moira’s face when she’d reached out to help her and Keir had somehow dissuaded her with just a single determined glance. Things were beginning to get complicated,— she realised. As if some unstoppable force was having its way and there was nothing she could do about it…Unless, of course, she decided to leave…
Her heart racing, Georgia glanced across at the casement windows of her room, at the rain that was still rattling the little square panes. A disconcerting emptiness and a yearning that she didn’t want to name gnawed at her, and the depth and power of the sensation almost drove her to tears.
‘Georgia? Is everything all right?’
At first she was disorientated, not knowing who spoke, then in almost the same instant she realised that the extraordinarily compelling voice could only belong to Keir. Standing up to go to the door, she tidied the front of her robe, making sure she was adequately— covered, at the same time cursing silently that she hadn’t dressed straight away—because once again she was at an embarrassing disadvantage.
But there was no need to open the door, was there? Georgia could merely assure him that she was fine and he would quickly go away again.
‘Yes…everything’s okay. I’ll be down shortly. I’m just—I’m just getting dressed.’
‘Open the door, will you? I want to see you.’
So much for that plan! Feeling her breath grow tight inside her chest, she briefly wiped her palms down the sides of her robe before reaching for the door catch.
‘What is it?’
Her aim had been to simply open the door just a little—enough for him to see for himself that she was fine—and Georgia was unprepared for that decision being immediately taken out of her hands.
He swept decisively through the opening, then shut the door firmly behind him, and the sheer physicality— of the man simply overwhelmed her as she found herself staring up into his starkly handsome face, his searing blue eyes burning her with the force of intensity she saw glimmering there. Helplessly suspended in the tension of the moment, her limbs feeling peculiarly as though they no longer belonged to her, Georgia went very still. Her heart continued to beat but she didn’t know how…
Before so much as another word or even a breath had left her lips, she felt herself seized by Keir’s strong muscular arms and impelled almost roughly up against his chest.
‘I only needed a temporary secretary,’ he commented,— almost with disdain, as he glared down into her shocked face. ‘And now I can’t even think about work with you around distracting me! Just what the hell am I supposed to do about you, Georgia?’
CHAPTER EIGHT
HIS MOUTH WAS on hers before she could utter a word, and suddenly their breath was one breath. His kisses tasted of the Glens, with their intoxicating pure fresh air, and almost made her high. His body against hers was like tempered steel, hard and honed, with— an almost desperate undercurrent of need that wouldn’t be constrained.