My Fair Lily(24)

“Meggie ought to learn the more popular card games and should have lessons on the order of precedence among the nobility. I would not like her to make a faux pas when introduced to some of my more elegant friends, though most would never pass an unkind remark. Will you teach her, Lily? She won’t be so scared if the lessons come from you.”

“I’ll do my best, but do you think she can learn all of it in so short a time?”

“I don’t know. We’ll soon find out. Ewan and Meggie are to pay a call on me this afternoon. You’ll stay, of course.”

So Lily stayed, and tried to ignore the rampant butterfly flutters that sprang into her stomach the moment Ewan strode into the salon. And tried to brace herself when Jasper trotted in behind him, noticed her, and with a lovesick wroolf, wrooolf, leapt straight for her, knocking over Eloise’s precious teacups that—thank goodness—happened to be empty, for Watling had yet to bring in the afternoon tea and cakes. “Jasper, sit!” she cried at the same time Ewan called him a hairy wanker and lunged for him to keep his woolly beast from knocking her over yet again.

But Jasper surprised them all by obeying her command, which caused a different sort of chaos when he stopped himself in mid-leap, his paws clawing the air to slow himself down, and landed with a gentle thud at her feet, his head held high with obedient pride. Ewan, who was himself in mid lunge, arms extended, and hands now aimed straight for her breasts, tripped over the beast.

“Bollix,” he said in a choked breath, immediately drawing his hands in and twisting his shoulders to alter his trajectory so that he’d hit the floor and not her, obviously preferring to land badly rather than take her down with him.

Lily watched in horror as Newton’s laws on bodies in motion and forces of gravity unfolded before her. She cringed at the outcome. It would not be pretty. “Ewan, look out!” she cried, fascinated by the glorious motion of his big, male body crashing against the stiff arm of the sofa, then rolling off the overstuffed sofa cushions onto the floor where his body wedged between her legs and the tea table.

“Bloody looby,” he muttered, the breath clearly knocked out of him.

“Are you all right?” Lily reached out to help him up, but as she bent down, Jasper mistook it for a game and gently pushed her. “Jasper!” She fell atop Ewan, her knees landing squarely on his stomach and her hands on his chest. Big, solid chest. “Oh, dear! I’m so sorry.”

Ewan caught her by the waist to steady her atop him, which seemed a Ewan thing to do, for he was always protectively considerate of her. His grip was firm, yet gentle, as she tried to slide off him, actually tried to slide down his body. She didn’t get very far because Jasper was still at their feet, his enormous, shaggy body blocking her way as he sat obediently, refusing to budge.

Ewan let out a sharp, laughing gasp as she started to move back up his body. “Better no’, lass. That isn’t going to work.”

“Well, I... I could—”

He began to laugh in earnest, a glorious, deep rumble that she found irresistible. No longer able to stifle the urge bubbling inside of her, she simply gave in and began to laugh as well. They were well and truly wedged, and had no delicate way out of this situation.

She was practically atop Ewan.

Meggie and Eloise were gaping at them, seemingly unable to move, or afraid to move for fear of worsening the situation.

Then Jasper pushed her, and suddenly, she was atop Ewan.

Her legs tangled between his thighs.

Her breasts intimately pressed against his chest. And loving it. Not that her breasts had a mind of their own. They didn’t. Though if breasts could ever be happy, hers were.

Jasper, enjoying what he thought was a game, jumped atop her.

Ewan let out a groan that seemed to rise from the depths of his soul. “Lass, I’m... och, Jasper, ye looby! Ye’re killing me.”

Lily knew she’d struck his ribs with her sharp elbow and struck other parts of him that should not be mentioned. “I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”

He seemed to have trouble breathing. Oh, dear! Was he in that much pain? No, he was laughing. Why was he still laughing? He enveloped her in his magnificently muscled arms and used his booted foot to gently shove Jasper off her. “No, lass. Are you?”

She wasn’t feeling any discomfort. Quite the opposite, she felt quite light and deliciously boneless. “I feel perfect.”

“Lass... I’m... bollix.” He lifted her off him with the speed of a hummingbird’s wings and half tossed, half deposited her on the soft sofa cushions. Then he grunted to his feet beside her, still breathing unsteadily as he ran a hand through his hair. He gazed at her with an odd expression on his face. She couldn’t quite decipher it. Perhaps confusion. Or was it unbridled horror?