Alec Mackenzie's Art of Seduction (Mackenzies & McBrides #9)(28)

Celia nodded, her smile shy. “I think you are correct.”

Alec leaned closer, but Celia drew back in sudden apprehension. “My mother did not put you up to this, did she?”

“T’ have you caught kissing a defeated, vagabond Highlander? No, lass. This is all my own doing.”

“My mother has very odd ideas. I would not be astonished by anything, these days.”

“Poor lass. To have your trust taken so young.”

“I’m rather old, she would say. Nearly twenty-two and still unmarried.”

Alec smoothed her cheek. “Such a terrible thing.” He gave her another soft kiss, and then another. “Your husband will be lucky.”

Celia copied his brushes of lips, her response rousing Alec’s blood. “I shall not have a husband. I’ve given them up.”

He touched his forehead to hers, his heart light. “Good lass. They’re nothing but trouble. My brother’s wife will tell you so.”

Celia smiled into the next kiss. Alec smoothed her hair, dislodging her cap, letting his imagination soar. He pictured her in his bed, her hair spread across his pillow, her face softening as she drew him down to her.

Alec wanted that with a power he hadn’t felt in years. What was this young Englishwoman, a hated aristocrat’s daughter, his family’s enemy, doing to him?

Celia had certainly enchanted him. Alec kissed her again, then moved to lick the shell of her ear. He closed his teeth around her earlobe and suckled.

Celia made a warm sound, and then Alec felt her tongue on his neck.

Into the fire that roared in his ears, he heard the rasp of a latch and the cutting voice of Lady Flora.

“For God’s sake.” Heels clicked on the polished floor. “Not now. Celia, your mother is searching high and low for you. Cease kissing … Mr. Finn … before she bursts in here and finds you.”





Chapter 9





Celia jumped, tried to rise, and fell back to the settee in a flutter of skirts. Alec caught her, stifling his laughter as he helped her up and steadied her on her feet.

Bless the lass. Celia had driven away some of the hatred in his soul and returned Alec the painter, Alec the ardent lover. For that he’d be forever grateful.

Lady Flora’s icy stare flowed over them. “Mr. Finn, you will make yourself scarce. I suggest the back stairs. Celia, remain here and compose yourself. And straighten your cap. It is awry.”

After snapping her commands like a battlefield sergeant, Lady Flora swung away and strode out the door, the slam of it rattling the gilt-framed paintings on the walls.

Celia planted her hands over her face, her cheeks reddening, her eyes wet. But she wasn’t crying, Alec realized after a moment. She was laughing.

He caught her around the waist and pulled her down to the settee once more. Celia landed half on his lap, her laughter ringing out.

She had a beautiful laugh. Alec gathered her against him, basking in the vibration of it.

She smelled of sherry and spice, clean silk and linen. Alec kissed her neck, inhaling her beautiful scent. Celia made a soft sound in her throat, her hand on his shoulder relaxing.

Alec nuzzled the line of her jaw, kissed her cheek, and resisted kissing her lips. If he began that, he’d wrap her in his arms and never let her go.

“Lady Flora is right,” he said, brushing a kiss to her cheekbone. “Let’s have you neat as a pin before your mum finds you.”

“Botheration to the lot of them.” Celia jumped to her feet, no falling or fluttering this time. “I am a pawn, Mr. Finn, in my mother’s games and whatever Lady Flora is currently plotting. Do not look so amazed—Lady Flora is always plotting something. Well, I am tired of being a useful but easily discarded piece on their chessboards.”

Alec rose with her, her vehemence exhilarating. He’d worried for a moment that she knew about Alec’s and Lady Flora’s plans but then realized she spoke generally. Lady Flora was always scheming—it was how Will had come to know her.

He tugged Celia’s cap straight and tucked a stray lock of hair beneath it. “A pawn can bring down a king,” he said into her ear. “Remember that.”

Celia slanted him a look, her eyes so near. “His royal majesty is in no danger from me. Even Lady Flora can not make me cross the line of treason.” She flushed. “Oh, I did not mean—”

“I for one am happy King Geordie remains on the throne. I was only a reluctant Jacobite, to protect my asinine brothers, little good it did me.” Alec gave her cap another tug and straightened her fichu on her shoulders.

He lingered as he touched her skin beneath the lace, and he couldn’t stop himself leaning down to brush her lips with the briefest kiss.

Celia’s mouth was pliant and warm. The kiss threatened to turn deeper, and only the hiss of a guttering candle reminded Alec not to lose himself.

He released her with reluctance. Celia’s lips parted, moist and pink, and her eyes held a quietness Alec needed. He longed with all that was within him to draw her into his arms and answer her silent plea for more kisses, but he forced himself to step away.

“I’ll leave ye now, lass. I humbly thank ye for your help. Come to lessons tomorrow, and I’ll have something special for you.”

Celia blinked, popping her mouth closed. “You are still willing to teach me?”