To Tempt a Scotsman (Somerhart 1)

Raising her eyes to scan the crowd, she wondered if she should move. The ballroom was an ingenious design, cir­cular and ringed entirely by a low, wide balcony that rose no more than two feet above the ballroom floor. The ele­vation provided just enough height to give everyone a good view of the dancing and suited her purpose perfectly. She could see past the crowds to watch for Collin, but she was torn between the compulsion to search him out and the desire to appear naturally occupied.

She wavered for a good quarter hour, watching the en­trance, feigning nonchalance. He had to come to the Mac-Drummond's. If he had any desire to see her at all, he would put in an appearance at this ball on this night. Please let him come.

Alexandra smiled briefly at a man who nodded in her di­rection before shifting her eyes away. She couldn't simply approac

h a strange man without an introduction, and the only women around her were chaperones and matrons. Better to have Collin see her alone and dignified than cloistered with the elderly. Or was it?

Just as she took a step away from the railing, she spot­ted a young woman walking toward her, then, beyond the girl's head, a man's large form darkened the main door. Collin. Oh my.

She turned her back to the door even as his appearance crystallized in her mind. He wore full formal dress, of course. A shiver touched her legs and settled in her knees.

The woman on the balcony drew even with Alex. She was pretty in the way that the luckier redheads were—skin pale and almost fragile. Her thinness furthered the air of delicacy, though a generous bosom ensured that one did not think her too thin. She began to pass, smiling uncer­tainly at Alex's stare.

The nape of her neck prickled and tightened, raising tiny hairs. Collin was watching.

"Hello," she boomed, startling the girl into a jump. "Have we met somewhere before?"

"No, I. . ." She blinked, pale-green eyes wide with sur­prise. "I don't think so. I'm sure I would remember."

"I'm sorry. My mistake. May I introduce myself? I'm Alexandra Huntington. It's a pleasure to meet you." Smiling brightly, she waited, hoping the girl wouldn't bolt.

"Yes, um. . . I'm Jeannie. Jeannie Kirkland."

The girl's burr was lovely, the soft words soothing to her frayed nerves. "Miss Kirkland, I am so glad I mistook you for someone else, though I don't know how I could have. I daresay I've never met a woman with such beautiful hair."

Jeannie blushed, touching her hair with nervous fingers. "Oh, no. That canna be right. My brothers have assured me my whole life that I've hair the color of pumpkin innards."

Alexandra laughed in genuine amusement, but the sound hiccupped into a rather breathless cackle. Jeannie's hand rose to touch just one finger to Alex's bare arm, her face drawn into a concerned frown. Then her eyes shifted, drawn to some movement over Alex's shoulder. The confusion fell from her face in an instant, chased away by amused understanding.

"He is headed this way with a rather ferocious scowl. Shall I intercept him?"

"No," Alex whispered, shutting her eyes against the sus­pense. "No, let him come."

Jeannie chuckled and Alexandra opened her eyes to watch the girl wave cheerfully. She had no choice but to turn, not if she wanted to seem unaware. So she turned and saw him, standing not a dozen feet away, and found that she did not have to feign her reaction. Her breath left her in a rush past numb lips, and she stared at Collin Blackburn.

She'd never seen him like this, dressed impeccably, his cravat a snowy sculpture at his dark throat, his black coat a sharp outline of the strength of his shoulders. And his hair was so short, just cut, like a sweet young boy dressed for a portrait. How could he look so intimidating and so touchable at the same time?

His eyes pierced her, nearly black in that fierce face, and so full of questions that she almost abandoned her plan of coyness. But she was better than that.

Alex made her mouth smile, made her hands relax and uncurl, and took a step toward him. "Lord Westmore. What an unexpected pleasure." And the hunt was on.

Chapter 8

Here she was. This little slip of a thing who'd made him so miserable. Here she was. Now what the hell to do with her?

She drew closer, a vision of black hair and cream skin, close enough that Collin could just make out those freck­les on her nose. Two more steps and she would be so close he could lean down and kiss them. She stopped at one.

"Lord Westmore," Jeannie Kirkland said from her side. "I see you've already met my friend."

Collin shot her a quick glare, this girl he'd known his whole life. "Your friend."

She flushed a little, pointed chin inching up. "My new friend. She's very nice."

"Yes. She is." He let his eyes swing back to Alexandra, their natural resting place when she was near. "Lady Alexan­dra, whatever are you doing here?" Her rosy lips parted, and he thought of them pressing into his skin.

"Why, I am here to buy horses, of course."

"Of course."