To Tempt a Scotsman (Somerhart 1)
"We don't fit? You mean we don't get on?"
"No, I. . ." God. Oh, God. Maybe she should just pretend to like it so she wouldn't have to have this conversation.
"Alex?"
"You-are-far-too-big-and-I-think-you-should-go-home."
"What?" He blinked at her, lips moving as he deciphered her spewed words.
She saw his understanding in the darkening of his face, in the thinning of his lips. She stopped dead in the path, to cover her eyes and hide.
"Alexandra, you were a virgin—"
"I know! I know it hurts most the first time but, Collin, look at me. I can't think why I didn't consider it before. I am small!" She dared a peek through her fingers. "You are . . . not!"
"You cannot think to judge me, to judge the pleasure I can give you based on that. If I'd known . . . Yes, it is painful for a virgin, but there are ways of easing that. You can't. . . You can't think to send me away like that."
Alex groaned into her hands. "I can't do it again, Collin, please."
He cursed, a string of Scottish words, their meaning quite clear though she didn't understand a one. She peeked again. He looked up to the sky, to the patch of blue stretching through the leaves. His lips moved as if in prayer.
His face tilted down suddenly and he caught her watching, smiled past the strain on his face. "I guess the decision is made then."
Alex felt relieved and terribly, terribly sad. "I'm sorry. I—"
"I must stay."
"Stay?"
"I can hardly pass up a chance to be the seducer, can I?"
"Seducer?" He'd reduced her to a dumb child, repeating simple words in hopes the repetition would reveal their meaning.
"You know you're being ridiculous, Alex. You are an intelligent woman and a passionate one. You know that women must enjoy it, at least some of the time."
"Only the things that come before!" she cried, finally pushing away her cowardice and letting her hands fall. "You are . . . I know you are too large. You're far bigger than—" She pressed a hand to her lips, too wise to continue.
An incongruous mix of emotions played over Collin's face: amusement, horror, pride. The amusement finally won out. "I've never received any complaints in that area, as to being too small or too big. No. None."
She could only stare, afraid to open her mouth again.
"I'm sure I am quite normal. And how exactly would you know anything about the range of sizes, Lady Alexandra?"
"I was a virgin," she hissed, "not a nun."
"Really? I could've sworn you were convent raised."
"How can you find this so amusing?"
"Well, it is either that or fly back to the alehouse to drink myself to a shameful death."
'"Tis nothing to be ashamed of, Collin. Everything else was lovely. More than lovely! It's not your fault. We are simply mismatched."
"Trust me."
Trust him? She had no reason not to . . . "I don't know. I don't want to." She glanced at him, at his angled face and curling hair and, oh, she wanted him to stay. Wanted to have the time to stroke his hair and kiss his neck. Wanted to play with his body the way he'd played with hers.
"Oh, all right," she conceded. "All right. I am willing to try it, but only once more."