herself he was teasing her. As it was, she wasn’t quite sure. So what else was new?
Taking a quick glance around as the other dancers closed ranks behind them, subtly shifting them to the periphery of the makeshift dance floor, she noted their expressions hadn’t changed much. Only now, in addition to the quick exchange of private smiles, there was a bit of elbowing going on and chins jerking meaningfully in their general direction as the dancers whirled by. And all Erin could think was, were they so hard up to find their clan chief a woman that they’d picked her? Surely she was reading this wrong.
“Don’t mind them,” Dylan said, tipping his chin toward the passersby and their hopeful expressions. “They mean well.”
Okay, so maybe she wasn’t. “Mean well about what, exactly?”
“They have it in their heads that I should socialize more. Dinnae worry, they’re a harmless lot.”
Erin had no idea what to say to that. A first. “Uh, good.” Make small talk, she admonished herself. She really needed to take advantage of this portentous occasion. Business, think business . She wished she’d had a bit longer with Alastair. She needed something, anything, to use as an approach.
“You two going to stand about when there’s music playing?” Alastair called out, an attractive older woman on his arm, who had nothing but stars in her eyes for him as they swung expertly by.
Erin tensed all over again, but Dylan merely nodded. She wasn’t sure she could handle actual direct physical contact without being rendered a complete, drooling idiot. The idea of his hands intentionally making prolonged contact with any part of her body…She crossed her arms over her chest. Just as a precaution, of course. Although a quick glance down told her she’d perhaps been extra-prescient on the matter.
“Dinnae fash yerself, lass. I believe I’ve socialized enough for one evening,” Dylan said, his tone a bit tight. “I’ll be taking my leave now.” He sketched a quick bow and started to turn away.
Seeing her one and only opportunity slip from her grasp before she’d even made a stab at it, Erin acted impulsively and grabbed at his arm. “Surely you can manage one dance?” What on earth was she doing? By some miracle she managed to pull off a semi-natural looking smile. “Keep the natives happy and keep me from being abandoned to the wolves.” Which was a joke. If the men here had looked twice at her, it was because they’d heard why she was in town. “Maybe you can manage to work us closer to the door and we can both make our escape.” She told herself that would give her more time, just the two of them, away from the noise and prying eyes of the villagers, to talk business.
Tell that to her nipples though.
Dylan, being a gentleman, and confronted with an audience that somehow managed to dance wildly about the crowded floor while paying almost rapt attention to their leader, could do little but comply with her request.
“I’m not very good,” she told him, having to raise her voice to be heard as they edged into the crowd.
“No’a problem, neither am I,” he replied, and for a second there, she thought she caught a hint of a dry smile.
But then his hands were on her and all rational thought took flight.
What the bloody hell did he think he was doing? Dylan stared down into Erin’s moss green eyes and wondered when, exactly, he’d lost complete control of his life. He wasn’t entirely certain, but it seemed to coincide with her arrival in town.
He’d hardly gotten any work done all day for thinking about the disruptive Yank. So he’d let Letitia’s guilt trip send him into town. Anything for a distraction, he’d told himself. He’d foolishly challenged Brodie’s wife, known far and wide as a dart shark, to a match, and had succeeded in diverting the entire village’s attention. Then he’d surprised himself by almost having a good time. But just when he’d thought maybe he could mix and mingle and be one of the crowd after all, she’d shown up.
And within minutes, the crowd had shifted, en masse, back into matchmaking mode. Although, to be fair, he wasn’t entirely certain if their interest in matching him up with Erin was for his personal gain, or for the betterment of the village. He’d been surprised to hear how enthusiastic everyone seemed to be about her little mission.
So, he’d dance with her. Once. Make everyone happy. Then he was going home. He’d come back to town after she’d moved on to scouting her next location. Looking at her, he told himself he couldn’t remember why he’d been so distracted by her anyway.
Then he put his hands on her, and she immediately tripped over her own feet, then over his, and looked up at him with laughter in her eyes and a quick apology on her lips…and he found his own lips curving. And his hold on her tightening. And his body responded when she tightened her own as well.
Good thing she really was a remarkably bad dancer.
More for his own safety and that of his toes than anything else, he maneuvered them closer to the pub door. Of course, he was well aware that the village would be buzzing if they left together, but he thought that might work to his benefit. Maybe they’d back off a little if they saw him actually showing interest in the opposite sex. Maybe he could convince them he could take it from there, and they’d ease up a little, stop looking at him with that dread mix of determination and pity. Especially that last part. Och, the puir widower Chisholm. He felt like such a fraud.
Several people noticed his trajectory and tried to intercept, but fortunately Dylan was able to catch Alastair’s eye. The auld mechanic was still pretty spry and managed to twirl himself and his partner expertly into the path of the interlopers. Now Dylan knew why he admired and respected his new sister-in-law. She got her smarts from a good man.
He didn’t waste any time taking advantage of what little edge he had. He maneuvered Erin in front of him and they were out and closing the door behind them before the song came to an end.
They both came to a staggering halt just at the edge of the sidewalk. He was careful to steady her before finally letting her go and taking a sanity-restoring step back himself. He was quite ready to head around back, hop in his lorry, and drive straight back to hearth and home. If he had his way, he’d stay there. Preferably till the next millennium. But the situation demanded that he at least be a gentleman. “You staying at the hotel?” It didn’t come out sounding quite as polite as he’d intended, judging by the way her smile faltered, before making a swift, if forced encore.
“Yes, but I can see myself home. Thank you for the rescue. Again.” Her smile relaxed a bit. “I’m sorry if my presence in there ruined your evening. I—I didn’t know—I mean, I never thought they’d…you know…” Her voice trailed off and even under the lamplight he could see the pink that stained her cheeks.
She was an interesting duck. So confident about some things, yet very disconcerted about others. “No’ to worry. Feel free to head back in. Now that I’m gone, you’ll likely have a better time of it.” He wanted to smack himself the instant the suggestion left his lips. All he needed was to give her any more time to persuade anyone else what a great idea it would be to invade their peaceful village with television cameras and crew.
“Oh, I think I’ve done enough for one day.” She stuck her hand out. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
Nonplussed by the gesture—he’d been sure she was going to hit him up again on her offer—he shook her hand without thinking. So he was taken quite off guard by the warmth and strength he
