Her Highland Fling by Jennifer McQuiston

enjoyed meeting your water cattle.” Pen smiled sweetly, though what she felt was a bit more complicated. “So it stands to reason I might enjoy the c-castle as well.” She leaned in, his shirt still clasped tightly behind her back. “And you did assure me you would show me anything I wished,” she added.
    He stared at her a moment, as though surprised she would be so frank. He seemed to be sidestepping any mention of that memorable night, but the same devil that had caused her to hide his shirt made her want to remind him of their kiss at every opportunity.
    Finally, he scrubbed a hand across his brow. “Aye. I did. So come to the castle around seven o’clock tonight then. Bring your sister and Cameron, as well. I’ll invite James and his wife, and we can make a dinner of it.”
    Pen nodded. She was pleased he had agreed so easily, though she was disappointed to hear they would have an audience. She’d hoped to have his undivided attention.
    Something made her want to dig deeper here. It wasn’t only the story. It was the man himself. She felt as though she were uncovering him, one secret at a time. “McRory also said you graduated from Cambridge.” At his frown, she plunged on. “It seems like you might be trying to hide some facts from me, MacKenzie. But as I said, I am an excellent journalist. I’ll sort out the t-truth eventually, with or without you.”
    “I have no doubts about your capabilities as a journalist, but I am not hiding, Miss Tolbertson.” What might have been a glower darkened his face. “It’s only that the focus of your story ought to be the town. They are the ones in need. I prefer to stay in the background and help where I can, and my own situation has nothing to do with it.”
    “Organizing the entire event is scarcely j-just helping where you can,” she pointed out, though she couldn’t help but feel a swell of respect for a man so determined to put the town first. With her free hand, she gestured to the wood structure that had so recently handed him his downfall. “ Look at you. You’re risking life and limb to b-build this for Moraig.” She paused, blinking up at the massive set of wood. “Although, what is this, if I might ask?”
    “ ’Tis a music stage,” he said, a bit less gruffly. “We’ve pipers and musicians planned. Music is as much a part of our tradition here as the games.” He hesitated. “Mayhap you’ll consent to share a dance with me, Miss Tolbertson?”
    “Perhaps.” She tried to ignore the sudden leap of her heart, which was all too willing to agree with anything that might send her into this man’s strong arms again. Her fingers curled around the bit of cotton she still held behind her back. “ If you’ll put on a shirt.”
    He looked down, clearly startled by the reminder. “Ach, my brother,” he muttered, looking around on the ground. “He’s taken my shirt, it seems. Daft, I tell you. Meddlesome, too.”
    Pen laughed. Time for the game she had started to end.
    Or perhaps, it was time for it to begin?
    She’d kissed him, of course, and he’d kissed her back, but she hadn’t precisely made her hopes clear. She brought his shirt out slowly from behind her back, dangling it from one gloved finger. He looked at her in what might have been panic.
    Or perhaps befuddlement.
    “You were hiding my clothes?” His brows pulled down in confusion as he accepted the shirt from her. His fingers crumpled in the fabric, but he looked at a loss to know what to do with it.
    Ah, there was the return of the bumbling giant.
    She was discovering she enjoyed being able to pull it from his university-educated skull.
    “I was merely enjoying all the views Moraig has to offer, MacKenzie,” she answered, though her unaccustomed boldness meant her cheeks felt as though someone had held them too close to a candle. “Perhaps you might show me more later?”
    “The castle. As we agreed.” His ears reddened even more. “And I . . . ah . . . thought we agreed