Highlander Unmasked by Monica Mccarty Read Free Book Online Page B

for dancing. But…” She turned her eyes on Meg.
    Alex didn’t pretend to misunderstand this time. “Mistress Mackinnon, would you care to dance?”
    Meg hesitated. There was something about Alex MacLeod that gave her pause. Just as had happened last night when he’d stood so close and his spicy masculine scent enveloped her, her body came alive with awareness. Whenever she was near him, she felt as if every nerve ending were set on edge. Waiting. Anticipating. For what, she did not know.
    But she didn’t like it.
    On the other hand, her mother was probably already fast at work mentally compiling the guest list for the betrothal and picking out the color for Meg’s elaborate bridal gown. Truth be told, if Meg stuck around much longer, Rosalind would probably ask Alex which color he preferred. At this point, dancing was likely her only means of escape from a potentially even more embarrassing situation.
    One dance—surely there could be no harm in that?
    Nodding her acceptance, Meg allowed Alex to lead her to the dance floor for a reel. Her hand slid into the bend of his arm, and she fought the urge to pull it back as if shocked. His muscles flexed beneath her fingertips.
    Dear God, he was strong. And hard as a rock.
    Her heart beat a little faster.
    He placed his hand on her back to guide her toward the dance floor, and a swift jolt surged through her. Her skin felt branded with his touch. She could feel him.
    Meg flushed, and a strange heat spread over her. The force of her response was unsettling. What was wrong with her? She’d danced with many men, but never had she felt every touch, every movement, as powerfully as she did now. Alex MacLeod was dangerous. He made her mind race with things she’d never thought of before. Intimate things. Longings she’d thought buried.
    They formed a small circle with another couple, and the reel began. Every time they came together and clasped hands or his hand fell firmly on her waist to turn her through the steps of the energetic dance, Meg felt a shock of pure heated awareness. She had to fight hard to concentrate on the dance steps, unable to get her mind away from the warm tingle that radiated from under his possessive hold.
    Peeking out from beneath her lashes, she took the opportunity to study him closer. She could see the evidence of a hard life in the fine lines around his eyes and the thin scars peppered across his nose and cheeks, the telltale marks of a warrior. The slight dent in his chin and the strong angle of his jaw made him appear hard and forbidding. But his lashes were long and thick, and together with his sensual mouth, they softened an otherwise implacable face.
    His expression, as always, was inscrutable. She wondered what he was thinking. Could he tell how affected she was by his touch?
    Meg bit her lip. She hoped not. Unlike him, she was not accomplished at hiding her thoughts.
    The sooner this dance was over, the better.
     
    This dance was a mistake.
    Alex had successfully avoided Meg Mackinnon all night, until Rosalind Mackinnon had sunk her teeth into him. That woman could teach his men something about dogged determination.
    He could feel the weight of Meg’s gaze upon him as they danced, and as he’d done throughout the long evening, he forced himself not to return her stare. She looked like an inquisitive little kitten with her big eyes and tiny face, and every time he looked at her, something inside him shifted.
    Touching her was pure torture. He’d never been so damn aware of just how much touching there was in a reel. Each time he held her tiny hands in his or placed his hand on her waist to guide her through the steps, he didn’t want to let go. The soft curve of her waist fit neatly in his palm. Too neatly. He longed to caress every sweet inch of her. To slide his hands over her breasts, down her hips, and around her backside, exploring every delectable curve. She was slight, but the feel of her hips hinted of a voluptuousness well hidden