As she lifted her wine, her rich red lips curved. Signorina Lucchetti looked good in his dining room, as if she fitted. “There’s that.”

“So will ye agree?”

A frown creased her brow. In the flickering light, the olive tinge to her skin was more marked than it had been outside in the rain. She looked very exotic to him. How he hungered to explore that mystery before she returned to Italy.

When had he found a woman this interesting? He wasn’t likely to encounter anyone like her again.

“I’ll be taking advantage of you.” Candlelight turned her eyes to dark pools.

They’d be taking advantage of each other, if he had any say in it. Hell, this was Achnasheen. He had a say in everything. “I’d enjoy your company.”

“I can’t feel it’s quite proper for me to stay. After all, you’re a single man and I’m a single woman.”

He cut into his meat and shrugged. “We have your father and a house full of servants to chaperone us.”

“A man who can’t leave his bed and people bound to you in clan loyalty.”

He drank more of his wine, letting the smooth claret tease his senses, although nothing could compare with his pleasure in watching the lovely woman sitting at his elbow. “Why not stay for a couple of days, then make up your mind? You can see the country and decide whether it meets your requirements.”

She stared down at her half-empty plate and pushed a piece of potato around as she considered his suggestion. “You must think I’m hypocritical to worry about my good name, when I proclaim my independence with such fervor.”

“Och, you’re just being practical.”

“I told you it’s difficult for a woman to make a career as an artist.” She raised those remarkable eyes, and desire hit him so hard, he wondered why he couldn’t smell the sizzle of lightning striking. “I’ve worked too long and hard to let scandal destroy everything I’ve built.”

“I understand,” he said.

He did. Which didn’t stop him from scheming to bring them together.

Fergus wanted her now, but it was too early to invite her into his bed. He hadn’t yet convinced her to stay past tonight. He couldn’t risk his sinful intentions frightening her off.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered why he was so determined to have her. He’d always liked compliant women. Compliant was the last adjective he’d apply to Signorina Lucchetti.

But while his common sense warned him she was likely to be nothing but trouble, he couldn’t deny the heat swirling like a whirlpool in his blood. Whatever the future held, he’d made his decision. He wanted her, and it was too late to turn away.

She set down her cutlery and nodded, as if she reached a conclusion after a long argument. “Very well, Mackinnon. Thank you. I will accept your offer to stay, at least for the next few days.”

* * *

For an overbearing male, the Mackinnon proved surprisingly good company. Marina enjoyed hearing about the clan’s long history. It sounded like something out of a romantic novel, full of feuds and battles, forbidden love and revenge.

Every word he spoke conveyed his love for this wild and dramatic landscape. Over the last days as she and her father had wended their way further into the Highlands, she’d been impressed with the magnificent scenery. Yet only as she listened to tales spun over a candlelit dinner table did she at last feel the powerful lure of this land.

Her artist’s soul burned to capture something of that untamed spirit. She was far from convinced staying at Achnasheen was wise, but wisdom lost its battle against increasing fascination. A fascination not with the turbulent history alone, but with the man weaving the magic.

She realized that despite its beauty, this was a harsh country and only the strongest survived. Perhaps the Mackinnon had reason for being such an autocrat. It became clear that the fortunes of the entire clan had always hinged on the chief’s strength.

When he caught Marina stifling a yawn, he interrupted a story of a beautiful girl kidnapped from a nearby glen. “Och, lassie, I’ve kept ye up too long, maundering on about long ago.”

“It’s still earl

y.” As if to confirm that, the clock on the mantel struck half past nine.

“Time for all good lasses to seek their beds.”

“I must check on Papa. He was sleeping when I left him.”

“If Maggie’s given him one of her potions, he’ll sleep until morning.”

Tags: Anna Campbell The Lairds Most Likely Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net