Lady X

She watched him as he got it lit and fanned the flames. He turned to her and waved her closer. “Coom lass. Stand here near the flame. It should take soon, for the wood is right good kindling.”

She reached out her hands and sighed as she shook out her wet skirt.

He put out a chair for her near the hearth and said softly, “Take off yer jacket and I’ll hang it to dry.”

She did as he suggested as she was happy to get the wet thing off. She peeled off her wet gloves and set them near the fireplace on a small stool near the grate. She turned to him with a frown. “Though I am thankful to be out of the storm, I am certain…” she said doubtfully, “…that although no one lives here now, we are trespassing.”

He grinned broadly. “Not at all. This belongs to Sir Jacob. As I said, when I noticed this yesterday I mentioned it to him and asked who used to live here. He said his father used to breed horses. This was where his horse trainer resided, until Sir Jacob’s fathers’ death some fourteen months ago.”

“What a shame it has been left empty like this.”

He pulled another chair out and set it close to her. He then took off his top hat and dropped it on a nearby table, then stripped off his own wet riding coat. He hung it near the fire and then sidled down the hall, vanishing out of sight.

When he returned he had a knit blanket and shook it out. “Here lass. Put this over yer lap.”

“Thank you,” she said spreading it around herself as she watched him take a stand close to the fire. He was magnificent. Everything about him seemed to glow. It was as though he gave off an inner light.

And so much more.

He seemed to take up the entire atmosphere around him with that inner glow of his. He seemed to blot out all else. Stop it, Xie girl, she told herself. You are getting fanciful, your father would say. It was all her father’s fault that she was in her present predicament. Maybe if she could sit down with her dad and make him understand how much she detested Galen Debbin. Maybe, but she knew better. Her instincts told her the truth and the truth was that her father would compel her to marry Galen with a spell, as soon as he found her.

All at once, she realized his lordship was watching her and she gave him a questioning look. “What?”

“I was aboot to ask ye the same thing, lass. What? Ye were in another world,” he answered softly.

She sighed. “I suppose I was thinking about home.”

“Home,” he said. “Aye. I too have not been home in many a year,” he said.

She had the feeling that he was off in his own world for he had a faraway look.

He sat and reached for her hand and she realized she couldn’t let him touch her. She wanted him too much; making it too dangerous to let him touch her. Inadvertently she flinched.

“I doona bite, Exerilla,” he said quietly.

“No?” He had been kind and so she tried a tease. “How very disappointing; I rather thought you might.”

“Uh-oh. In that case, it is m’pleasure to accommodate a lady.” He bent toward her.

She put out her hand. He smelled of a delicious musky spice scent and his lips were so enticing. She was stronger than that, she told herself and said, “No, no you don’t! I was teasing, Hunter.”

He stopped at once and leaned back into his chair. “That is the first time ye have used m’given name.”

Oh Holy Moly, she thought. Trouble.

He was sitting back, sweetly talking in that lovely Scottish burr which sent shivers through her. She loved his voice, his eyes, and his scent. She tried looking away from him. “Well,” she said in way

of explanation, “we are much less formal where I come from.” She grinned. “Not a whole lotta lords and such to deal with.”

He got up and paced a moment near the fire with his back to her as he unbuttoned his waistcoat and hung it with his riding coat.

X realized she was holding her breath and let it out as he turned and gave her his hand. “Coom stand here with me. The flames now are hot and will dry yer clothes better here.”

He was warming her up more than the flames. Why couldn’t she just let go and be with this hunk of a man. A little flirtation and a kiss or two wouldn’t hurt anything. She got up, did not take his hand, but rubbed both of hers as she stood and shook out her riding skirt.

His voice was a husky murmur, “Are ye hurting from yer fall, lass?”

“No, not at all, actually” she answered with a fleeting smile.