Scottish Romance Books

“He couldn’t be—

Oh, Lord. He was. He was going to kiss her.

“Wait.” Panicked, Maddie put both hands on his chest, holding him off.

“Your men, my servants … they could be watching us.”

“I’m certain they’re watching us. That’s why we’re going to kiss.”

“But I don’t know how. You know I don’t know how.”

His lips quirked. “I know how.”

Those three little words, spoken in that low, devastating Scottish burr, did absolutely nothing to ease Maddie’s concerns.

Thankfully, she had a reprieve. He pulled back and peered at her hair. He looked like a boy marveling at clockwork, wondering how it all worked. After a few moments, she felt him grasp the pencil holding her chignon.
With one long, slow tug, he eased it loose and cast it aside.

It landed in the loch with a splash.

His fingers sifted through her hair, teasing the locks free of their haphazard knot and arranging them about her shoulders. Tenderly. Like she’d always imagined a lover would. Sparks of sensation danced from her scalp to her toes.

“That was my best drawing pencil,” she said.

“It’s just a pencil.”

“It came from London. I have a limited supply.”

His thumb caressed her cheek. “It almost put out my eye. I’ve a limited supply of those, too. And it’s better this way.”

“But—” Her breath caught. “Oh.”

He bracketed her cheeks with his hands, tilting her face to his.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. She stared at his mouth. A wave of inevitability washed over her.

She whispered, “This is really happening, isn’t it?”

In answer, he pressed his lips to hers.”
― Tessa Dare, When a Scot Ties the Knot