To Tempt a Scotsman (Somerhart 1)

She stepped over the edge, sunk one foot into stinging-hot water.

Collin watched, seeming fascinated by the water lap­ping at her knee. She pulled her other leg in and slid down. When she touched bottom, the water came just to her ribs, tiny waves sloshed against the underside of her breasts. Collin stared.

His gaze heated her nipples, seemed to scrape against them until something twisted in her belly, something almost painful and as hot and liquid as the water that swirled about her. When his eyes slid up to lock with hers, the silver wildness of them caught her breath and deep­ened the pain in her belly.

She'd never seen his eyes like this, glinting gray on black, hot and icy cold at once. She suddenly felt in danger of being burned by the fire she'd so recklessly tended. He was not a plaything; he was a man, a man she'd pushed to the limits of temper and control. Alex shivered in the hot water and closed her eyes against the danger.

The cool air of the room shifted. He was moving, cir­cling her. Her muscles vibrated in anxious tension as she waited for a touch, for anything.

"Lean forward."

She jerked, felt the water rippling against her skin as the light weight of her hair was lifted from her back. She felt him dip a hand into the water, heard the slippery squish of wet soap and then those slick fingers took her in their grip, trailing a cloud of steamy lavender.

His hands pressed into her shoulders, slipped to her neck and then down, over her chest, over the high rise of her breasts. His fingers separated, opened to let her nip­ples slide between them, to rub those sensitive peaks until they caught at the start of his palm.

Alex gasped, then whimpered as he pressed his fingers together to squeeze a delicious pressure into her nerves. His hold turned. His thumbs flicked over the hard pebbles, pushing past and back again in twin circles that brought her to a squirm.

"Collin!"

"Mm."

At the sound of his chest rumbling near her ear. Alex threw back her head and pressed it into that solidness. His thumbs finally left her nipples. His palms, instead, caressed her, cupped the whole of her breasts. Her body pressed into those hands, wishing they could cover all of her skin at once.

"Shh," his deep voice soothed, and she sighed at the departure of his touch.

Alex heard the water, the soap again, and then he cleaned her. He soaped her arms, her hands, her armpits. He dili­gently washed her, stroked each rib, each notch of her spine, his skin slick against her, like a tongue that licked at every space on her body.

He lifted her hair, poured fresh warm water over her shoulders and arms.

"Stand." The order was curt but so warm it burned her. She stood.

More soap on his hands and then her waist, her belly. Alex couldn't stop the trembling that took her body. Her belly twitched at the pass of his hands, jerking away from the too-wonderful touch.

He still knelt behind her, and she could feel his breath cool the dampness at the small of her back. She tried to picture him there, his mouth easing closer to her skin as his hands slicked down the curve of her belly and into the dripping curls of hair. A choking gasp clawed its way up her throat. She wanted him to kiss her, to bite her hip and curl his fingers up and inside her, but he only washed, only pushed the soap into that triangle of hair, then pulled away to wet his hands again.

Roughness tinged his grasp when he returned to his task. His fingers gripped her hips tight, held on for a moment, then let go to slide down her thighs. He pushed up again, toward the swell of her bottom, and seemed to push with him all the feeling in her legs, so that her feet and knees and thighs numbed and sent all their nerves to that hollow be­tween her legs. A pulse took up the beat of her heart, a pulse that throbbed at the opening to her womb, a drum to call him.

Collin cupped the round halves of her bottom, spread his fingers wide and slipped his thumbs into the crease, sliding along it and back down, slowly, slowly. He caressed again and again, teasing closer to her core with every pass. Alex shook and burned and moaned when she felt his hands slide apart and down her hips, spreading her but­tocks, then letting her slide free again as he soaped her legs.

"Lift your leg." Oh, he tried to sound detached, but his throat wouldn't loosen enough to let him. Alex wanted to tease him, but her own mouth was too busy holding back a plea, so she raised her left leg and perched her foot on the edge of the tub.

Turning her head, she saw his pupils dilate, saw his eyes turn to black as he gazed at her. open and slick with soap and woman's need. He squeezed the soap, twisted viciously until it jumped from his hands and into the water with a plop.

His shoulder brushed her as he lifted her foot. The movement unbalanced her so she had to grab his hair to steady herself. He didn't seem to notice, and she found she needed the feel of him.

His fingers rubbed her toes, between them, into the arch and up her heel. He pressed both hands together, an erotic vise that squeezed her ankle, her calf, the bend of her knee. The pads of his fingers touched, then slid apart as he eased up, over the curve of her thigh, higher to the dip just below the dark curls of her sex.

Alex's body tightened, the pulse beat sharp and painful as she waited for him to touch her, finally—to ease her. She was so close.

"Please, Collin. I'm—"

"No." His hands stilled.

"Please. I'm almost-"

"No. Not yet. Wait."

Shaking her head, she twisted her fingers in his hair.