To Tempt a Scotsman (Somerhart 1)

Collin fought the urge to laugh out loud. Any other young miss would have spoken those words if he had had the gall to try to unbutton her blouse.

"I'm fixing your clothes," he finally replied.

"But you . . . I mean . . . We are not done!

He did laugh then, as he moved on to the next button. "I think we'd best be done after all."

Alex gasped and slapped his hands away from her half-open shirt. "No! Stop that!"

His smile gentled at the confusion in her eyes. "Alex. We can't do this."

"I was under the impression that we were doing it quite successfully before we were interrupted."

He didn't know now whether to laugh or cry at her out­rageous statement. He had keen memories of just how nicely it had been going.

"Alexandra, you are—"

She cut him off with a frantic wave of her hand, eyes flashing danger at him. "If you dare to bring up my broth­er's title again, I will hurt you."

"Your social status is nothing to be scoffed at. However—" he held up a hand when he saw her lips part—"I was going to say that you are George's cousin and a friend to Lucy and it would be unconscionable for me to take advantage of their friendship by. . . by taking advantage of you."

Her luscious mouth thinned to a hard line of displeasure. "I had not planned to run back and announce what we'd done. And I'd hardly call it taking advantage."

His hand felt rough when he ran it over his face, and his throat felt rougher when he spoke. "I'm sorry, Alex. Be­lieve me. I am sorry. But this cannot be."

She blinked, looked away from him. That stubborn jaw worked hard to clench and unclench her teeth. High spots of red burned her cheeks.

"Fine, Blackburn. You obviously have your reasons. Shall we return to the house then?"

He watched her hurriedly fasten the last three buttons of her shirt and stand. She adjusted her skirts with rough twitches and tucked in her shirt, all without meeting his eyes. He saw the exact moment her face cleared of all emotion. When she turned to look about for her discarded jacket, he reached to take her hand. "Alex, please don't."

"Don't what, Mr. Blackburn?"

"I'm trying to do the right thing by you. Don't look past me like that."

She finally met his eyes and he saw them warm to just above freezing. "It is a rather uncomfortable situation, is it not?"

"It does not have to be. It was a surpassingly lovely morning."

Her lips quirked. "I did enjoy myself."

"Well, lassie,"—he couldn't resist pressing a quick peck to her mouth—"so did I."

Alex glanced away and forced a wider smile. He was very sweet to lie to her like that. It was part of the problem, this extreme likeability of his.

"We should head back," she murmured. "We will miss luncheon."

Her not-quite lover nodded and bent to retrieve his coat. He gave her a searching look before he walked away toward Thor.

When he'd gone, she put her hands to her face and groaned. How embarrassing this all was. She should have learned her lesson the last time she'd been humiliated by her baser needs. Of course, that time had been nothing like this. No, this time had been very nearly worth any amount of embarrassment.

Nearly. It had taken her a few awkward moments to re­alize he was rejecting her. She'd offered herself to him like the harlot she was, and he had, very politely, turne

d her down. She didn't even know that men would do that.

He must find her wanting in some way. She almost smiled at the thought, despite her rising humiliation. Oh, she was wanting all right.

Not waiting for help from him, she scrambled onto Brinn's back and stared out at the sea until she heard the soft sound of hooves behind her. When she turned, she found Collin watching her intently and smiled for his ben­efit. No need to make him feel guilty for something she had forced between them.