To Tempt a Scotsman (Somerhart 1)

She licked those lips, her tongue a pink surprise, then drew a breath that tested the modesty of her gown. "It is wonderful to see you."

Collin stared at her, took her in, her beauty, her spark. . . stared until Jeannie cleared her throat.

"Collin, I will speak with you later." She narrowed her eyes meaningfully, then smiled at Alex. "Lady Alexandra, it was a pleasure to meet you."

She must have left, because the next time he glanced away from Alex's face he found they were standing alone, the party flowing around them like a babbling stream.

"Would you walk with me outside, my lady?"

She watched him, seemed to measure him through the sooty veil of her lashes as a smile spread slowly over her face, a smile that lit her up and heated his blood.

She didn't speak, only slid her arm through his and let him lead her to the wall of doors, then out into the moon-bright garden below. A cool wind swept over them, green and light. She shivered at his side as he pulled her into the deep shade of a tree.

Reaching to unbutton his coat, Collin began to shrug it off, but she made a low sound of distress that stayed his hands. "What is it?"

"Don't. Don't take off your coat. You look so . . ." Her hand caressed the air in front of him. "Magnificent."

"Magnificent?" His body stuttered to a halt. When he could move again, he found his fingers reaching to rebut-ton the coat. Her husky laugh sent blood racing to his face as well as to the lower reaches of his body. She seemed to have some torturous gift for arousing and embarrassing him simultaneously, a siren with a wicked wit.

How could this woman, this vision, be attracted to him? It confused him, put him on the defensive and touched him somewhere deep inside. And she was still attracted, he wasn't blind. She devoured him with her eyes, touching each part of him, lingering on his mouth. When she slipped off a glove and reached a small hand up to stroke the hair behind his ear, Collin pulled her against him and kissed her with all the need he'd been tamping down for months. He pressed her lips open with his own and slipped into her wet warmth.

Her hand tightened, tried to grab his hair, slid downward to clutch at his neck. Not in outrage, no. She fell into the kiss, plunged into it, raised onto her toes and pushed herself at him. More than willing to oblige, he pulled her up off her feet to line their bodies up. She smelled of flowers and tasted like wine, and oh God, how he wished she were wear­ing her boy's clothes now, wished he could feel the softness of her breasts and the hard press of her pelvic bone against his cock.

She stroked his tongue with a rhythm that drew a shud­der through his body and melted his mind. He had no wish to resist her this time and prayed this was an invitation to escort her home. He was done resisting, couldn't think why he ever had.

The sharp bite of her nails stung his neck, thrilling him, pushing him over the edge of reason. He jerked her skirts up in bunches, inches at a time, trying to expose her body with his one free hand, trying to reach the center of her.

"Good God!" a hard voice exclaimed, spiking Collin's arousal with fear. Sweeping Alexandra around to hide her, he placed her carefully back on the ground.

"Did she actually invite Roxbury?"

"Surely he snuck in!"

Alex melted in his arms. They hadn't been spotted. Collin eased her backward, deeper into the shadows of the flowering branches. Tiny petals floated down as his head brushed the leaves, landing in her dark curls, in the shadow of her breasts, white spots of fragrance.

"Alex," he breathed, framing her heart-shaped face be­tween rough hands. "Why did you come here?"

She smiled at his tortured words, mouth red as a rose from his kisses. "I've missed you, Collin."

"Missed me? Surely you've forgotten me by now."

Something close to pain froze his blood when she pulled away from his hands to press her face into his skin, nuzzling the place beneath his ear. A yearning rose up in him, more than lust or want, and her hair spilled around his hands, pins flying away at his clutching fingers. She smelled like flow­ers and rain and the underlying spice of need. Need for him.

"Oh, Collin. I wish I could forget you." The fierce whis­per burned his neck.

He growled in dark humor. "I understand exactly."

She pressed her lips hard to his throat, trailed kisses up his jaw until he caught her with his mouth and kissed her again. Gentler, this time, and tinged with sadness and his own lone­liness. She sighed into him, a deep, broken sound, and his sanity returned.

"I'm sorry." He touched her arms, held her away from him. "I'm sorry to fall upon you like a starving beast."

One of her dark eyebrows arched high. "You are easily appeased for a starving beast."

"Not appeased. Not at all."

"No? You are a perverse man, Collin. Always so in control."

"If I were in control, I wouldn't have spent the past two days dashing to every damned social function in the city."