Page 41 of Somewhere Along The Way (Mackinnon #3)

“Ah,” he said, his eyes telling her how much he enjoyed this. “But we both know the duke’s obedient daughter would never do such a thing as that.”

“I might surprise you,” she said with the greatest dignity.

He studied her critically. “You might—one of these days, at any rate. But it’ll take some coaxing on my part, I fear. You aren’t a lass to throw caution to the wind and act on impulse.”

The scattered fragments of her composure began to collect themselves and muster together into one flagrant display of something she could only call idiocy. “That’s something you should be thankful for, since it would be pure impulse to slap your cocky face.”

Coming to a stop in front of her, he reached out and touched the side of her face, using one finger to trace a slow path across her pale, flawless skin, then dropping lower to circle her throat. She slapped his hand away.

“It’s different, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you mean. What is different?”

“My touching you,” he said blandly. “It isn’t the same, is it?”

She scowled at him. “Must you always speak in riddles? ‘It isn’t the same’ as what?”

“As when Huntly touches you.”

“You are…” She searched her mind. “Worse than vile.” It wasn’t too good a word for a severe dressing-down, she had to admit, but it was all she could come up with at the moment.

He was laughing now. “Worse than vile?” he repeated. “Is there anything worse than vile?”

Annabella felt the fire upon her cheeks. She took a step back. “I have already answered that question,” she said.

He took another step toward her and she took a counterstep back.

“I’d be careful if I were you. You’re close to being in the compost, although I don’t know but what it might be worth letting you fall, just to see it, Lady Annabella sitting on her tuffet covered with light loam, leaf mold, river sand, and well-rotted dung. ”

“Stop it, do you hear? I think you are the most despicably odious man,” she said, the rest of her words choking her into silence.

“No, you don’t, much the worse for you.”

He saw the way her eyes grew huge and round with apprehension. “Relax, Miss Predictable. I’m not going to pounce on you here amongst the flowers, although I can hear it now, you running inside to shout that I have trod upon the lilies.”

His smile was lazy and confident, and he looked her over with slow, approving appraisal.

“That particular shade of blue becomes you. You know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen your bosom heave with irritation in a low-cut gown.

” He ignored her gasp of outrage. “But in all honesty, I must admit I like the effect in this one better.” He laughed at her sudden attempt to cover herself.

“Crossing your arms over your…front…does not achieve the results you are looking for. All you’ve succeeded in doing is pushing everything up a bit higher. ”

“Onhhhh!” she screeched. “Will you ever cease? What must one do to make you stop?” She gathered her skirts in one hand and started around him.

“I know one surefire way,” he said, putting his hand out to stop her. “A kissed mouth is a silent mouth.”

“I’ll take your verbosity, thank you—crude as it may be.

” She eyed him with all the resentment she could muster, looking down at her arm, which was gripped in his hand, and then back up at his smiling face.

“Your mind must dwell at the very bottom of the pit of lewdness, for I have never met anyone like you—or anyone who went out of his way to provoke me as you do.”

He released her arm. “It could be partly your fault, you know. Take away fuel, take away flame.” He laughed at her blank look and caressed her cheek as he said, “You would do well to remember you don’t put out a fire, lass, by pouring oil on the flame.”

Annabella did not know why, but for some reason, she found this man quite the most likable and irresistible person she had ever encountered—and at the moment she wanted to dislike him the most. This must be how it is done, she thought. This is how one goes crazy.

She looked up at the face that was smiling down at her, and knowing she was a fool for doing so, she returned his smile, feeling her frustration melt faster man a tallow candle.

It was the second time that day she sighed in defeat. “You are past hope, you know that?”

“That’s what they say.”

“Why did you carry me across the stream that day, when I could have ridden your horse?”

“I preferred to carry you.”

“Why?”

“Let’s just say it was because I saw a woman worth wading for,” he said, looking down at her.

In the sunlight her skin had the rich color of fully opened pink roses and the freshness of a late June morning.

He inhaled her fragrance through every pore.

She smelled like strawberries. He thought about the way she had looked when he walked into the garden and found her hidden in a shrine of climbing white roses, tiny and still, like a small statue that watches over a garden.

God, he wanted this woman, wanted her with every fiber of his being.

She saw the way he was looking at her. “It can never be,” she said, her voice turning suddenly soft. “You are wasting your time and risking much—for both of us.”

“Then we’ll just have to take our chances.”

“I’m afraid that option is out as well,” she said, remembering her discussion with her mother only moments ago.

“Do I dare hope that hint of sadness in your comment means you are lamenting the possibility that things might not work out between us?” He pulled her tight against his chest, his lips pressing against the top of her head.

“I wish nothing more than to be assured of the fact that things don’t.”

“You don’t wish that, lovely Annabella,” he said, laughing softly. “You don’t wish that at all.” He released her, but continued holding her by the shoulders as he looked down into her upturned face. “Forget all this nonsense about marrying that dog lover and come away with me.”

“Are you insane?”

He laughed. “Probably.”

She pushed away from him.

“Okay,” he said jovially. “Forget I said that. I’m not going to toss you over my shoulder and haul you away, pirate fashion.” His vivid blue eyes were suddenly as soft as a spring breeze. He gave her a lazy look. “I’m a patient man. I can wait.”

“‘Til doomsday, for all I care.”

“You’re shaking. And your voice is unsteady. Are you cold?”

“No, I’m not cold. I simply find you irritating. I always feel this way when I’m around you.”

“I could stop that…if you’d let me.”

“No, you’d only make it worse—I mean—why don’t you just leave me alone?”

“Can’t,” he said, taking her in his arms and drawing her back against his chest.

“You might as well give up,” she said, her voice breathy and unsteady. “I’m a lot smarter than you think. I know what you’re about. You can’t seduce me.”

“Then you’ve nothing to worry about, have you?

” His lips were in her hair, kissing the soft fringe that edged her face, his breath stirring more than the curls that nestled there.

“You are immune to this sort of thing, aren’t you?

So strong. So capable. So determined to resist. Nothing I do has any effect on you, does it?

” His breath was even and warm, the touch of his lips gentle as they moved in a slow, circular pattern across the smoothness of her troubled brow, down the straight, dainty line of her nose, to brush faintly across her surprised mouth.

“This,” he said in a whisper, “is something you hardly notice.”

His hands firm around her waist, he drew Annabella completely against him before she had a chance to steady the breathing that threatened to become a pant.

Everything inside her was where it shouldn’t be, doing something it had never done before.

She was a mass of confusion; body parts were suddenly too large for her chest, and those that weren’t threatened to spin off into oblivion.

So many questions she had about the male anatomy were suddenly, and shockingly, answered.

Shot full of holes was her theory that she was a strong woman and could resist anything.

This man made her body quiver and her determination dissolve.

She knew nothing about intimacy, but she was gathering some mighty strong clues from the places where her blood ran thick and warm. She was hot. She was cold. She wanted to say yes. She was thinking no. She must stop this. Now. Weakly she said, “Stop it, some more,” and heard his soft chuckle.

“Are you sure you want me to?” he whispered, nuzzling her.

Then his mouth closed over hers, and he showed her yet another way to kiss.

Her eyes were closed, but everything behind her lids exploded with color.

She felt weightless and tingling, as if she were drifting above herself, out of the world she knew into that black void above, where she hovered, close enough to reach out and touch a star.

He was barely conscious of her small hands pushing against his chest. “What’s the matter?”

There was a modest pause. “I lied.”

The sound of his laughter rolled in elated tones across the garden wall, over the simple rose-covered arch that divided the garden and the lawn, to sweep across the lavender hues of heather-covered hills beyond.

He clasped her face in his hands, moving his mouth back and forth across hers, absorbing her sharp gasp.

He kissed her softly, gently, and for quite a long time, before he broke it by whispering her name over and over.

“You take unfair advantage,” she whispered.

“Yes, and it’s going to get worse,” he said, just before he released her.

A moment later she was still in the garden. But she was standing there alone.

The next morning Ross was in the library with Percy when his grandfather came in, his white, wiry brows lifted in delight. “By the by, I do believe it’s time for you to take the lad to Edinburgh, Percy.”

“Do you think it’s time?” Ross asked. His mind on Annabella, he knew it was too soon. He needed more time with her.

“I take it you have decided not to accompany us?” Percy said.

The old duke dropped into a friendly leather chair that beckoned. “I’m too absentminded to sit on a horse. I’d forget where I was and topple off.”

Percy said, “What about the carriage?”

“My blasted leg is too stiff to sit in a carriage for any length of time,” he said, giving his leg a slap. “Damn me if it isn’t getting numb as well.”

“You put up a good struggle,” Percy said, “but I doubt that is the real reason.”

The Mackinnon laughed. “You’re right. It isn’t.

I simply don’t want to go to Edinburgh. Truth is, I am exasperated with Unitarians, Whigs, Americans, brokers, bankers, solicitors, and the Quaker aristocracy.

I’m an old man, and expect to spend the rest of my days right here, being coddled by you, Percy, and buoyed by the ministrations of my grandson—which is a long-winded way of saying, I quit. ”

Ross threw back his head with a shout of laughter as Percy said, “So, you’re ready to turn the helm over to Ross.”

“I am—lock, stock, and barrel. But I suspect he needs to see a bit o’ Scotland first, and have his last fling, and there’s no better place to start than Edinburgh.”

“I could take him to England,” said Percy.

“What for?” the duke said with a snort. “The English are a sober lot. If the lad is going to learn to drink and drink deep, he’ll do it here, at home, on good Scottish soil—with good Scots whisky.”

At the mention of home, Ross realized he hadn’t really thought of this old gray fortress as home, but in reality, that was exactly what it had become.

There was a rightness to it, a feeling of belonging he had never felt back in Texas.

Maybe that was why he was the one out of all the Mackinnon boys who rolled around like a loose stone, never finding a place to lay his head for long.

“When do we leave?” asked Percy.

“Within the week,” was the Mackinnon’s staunch reply. “And now we’ll wash our words down with a glass of good whisky.”

Ross joined his grandfather and Percy for a drink, his eyes resting for a moment on the lingering gray light outside the window, the soft greenness of the hills reminding him of Annabella’s eyes.

Annabella. Her name ripped through his mind like a gunshot.

He was just beginning to bring his lass around.

He wasn’t ready to leave her yet. Ross tried to probe for a logical reason to stall the trip to Edinburgh and came up with nothing.

He wished he had more time to be with her, more time to teach her to trust him, more time to put her in touch with herself.

Instead he continued to stare at the grayness out the window, listening to his grandfather and Percy plan away with his life.