Page 56 of Somewhere Along The Way (Mackinnon #3)

“Angel heart, don’t grieve so. What you suggested in all your humiliation will take place.

Have no doubt on that score. But when it does, it won’t be because you sought the answers to some questions, or because you offered yourself in shameful exchange for a way out of a detestable marriage.

You aren’t a sacrifice, and when you and I make love I won’t be taking—and you sure as hell won’t be giving, because, lady, I can promise you that I give as good as I get.

When you and I come together, it won’t be like two trains going toward each other on the same track, and it won’t be like some pale and fragile rose I’ve decided to pluck and enjoy for a moment and toss away.

God knows I’ve had enough of those to know what I’m talking about. ”

She felt his arms come around her tightly, holding her so close that she not only heard his words but sensed they were humming through flesh and bone to touch flesh and bone.

“True love is a slow grower, lass; it won’t thrive unless grafted upon a vine of equal merit.

Once it has taken root, it will flourish and be like evergreen, lasting forever.

” He tipped her head back, his eyes warm and liquid as he lowered his head.

“Fate may have given you parents, but take heart, sweet Annabella. Choice will give you a mate.”

If ever a heart took wing, hers did. But she had no more time to think about what Ross had said, or the sudden flight of her heart, for when his mouth closed over hers, the world tipped crazily and stood still.

How long had she thought about this moment, how had she imagined what it would feel like if she could kiss him with all thought of Huntly and all the niggling feelings of guilt banished from her mind?

If she could kiss him as she was kissing him now?

Light-headed from the swell of emotion and her efforts to tone down her own exuberance, Annabella swayed against him.

That was all the encouragement Ross needed.

“Such a sad little lass,” he said. “Such a beautiful, sad lass.” He moved his hands up and down her back.

She was so slender he could feel each tiny bone of her body.

“You aren’t much bigger than a sparrow,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, pulling away to look at him. “I think.” She looked up at him and he laughed, pulling her back into his arms.

“You’re very beautiful, do you know that?” He laughed again. “Of course you do. I’m sure every fool in London was besotted with you. You probably had them raising more hell than an alligator in a dry lake, just to get one dance with you.”

An alligator in a dry lake? Are these words of comfort where he comes from?

His arms tightened around her, cradling her against him.

There had never been any real physical affection between Annabella and her father, and Gavin, although he loved her dearly, was too young and in too much of a hurry to take much notice of such a thing as hugging his little sister on occasion.

Her mother and her sisters had been affectionate with her, of course, but that wasn’t the same.

Being held in a man’s arms was entirely different.

A man—whether it was father, brother, or lover—gave a woman something in a hug, a gentle caress of comfort and confidence that no woman could.

The feelings Bella was experiencing now were different from any she had felt before.

And it wasn’t a matter of passion, since passion was a relatively new emotion to her, something still in its fledgling stages.

What she felt now went beyond passion to comfort.

There was something sure and honest and strong about being held in this man’s powerful embrace.

Something that made her want to stay there. Forever.

If only she could.

He pulled back a bit and looked down at her. “Heaven help me, you’re softer than a moth’s nose and you’ve got me all stirred up inside. I feel as if I swallowed a hornet’s nest.”

Softer than a moth’s nose? Where does he get these comparisons? Has he ever felt a moth’s nose? Has he seen one? Do moths even have noses?

“Annabella, are you going to keep on giving me trouble or are you going to give in to your own free nature and see where it leads? In other words, are you going to cooperate?”

“Cooperate? About what?”

“Letting me court you in the way you were meant to be courted?”

“No,” she said, and laughed. “It’s a little late for that, I’m afraid. You don’t court a betrothed woman. Especially when she’s betrothed to someone else.”

“Don’t keep bringing that up around me,” he said seriously. “It makes me mad enough to stomp some rocks every time I hear it, and I don’t want to be angry now—especially when I’m here like this with you.”

“I must say, this is most unusual,” she said. “Strange, even.”

“How so?”

She threw up her hands. “The way everything is happening here. You seem to be interested in me…”

“ Seem to be? Listen, beauty, I don’t seem to be anything. I’m interested, all right. When a man closes in on a woman faster than greased lightning, you know he’s serious. If you didn’t know it already, serious is more than interested.”

“Don’t try to confuse me. You say you’re interested and I offer myself to you—but you refuse. In the next breath you say any reference to my betrothal is most upsetting to you. You don’t make any sense at all.”

“It damn well is upsetting.”

“There you go again. If you don’t want me, then why should it matter who has me?”

“Don’t want you? Listen to me. Don’t want you? Where did you get a damn-fool idea like that? Good God. Don’t you know I’d marry you right this minute if I could?”

“Marry me? How can you say something as ridiculous as that? You don’t love me. You hardly know me.”

He saw her scoffing look and heard the harsh words. He gripped her arms and looked seriously into her face. “Our love is just beginning, sweetheart. Time will see it to its proper depth. You can’t rush love any more than you can quench it.”

“But…”

“Annabella, will you shut up?”

“Why?”

“So you can kiss me,” he said.

“Hmmm. I don’t know,” she said. “Men like demure, chaste women—my mother told me that much. A woman brazen enough to kiss a man outright—I…”

He didn’t wait for her to finish but began placing little nibbling kisses all up and down her neck. Bella sighed and moved her position to give him better access. “That,” he said softly, “is what a man likes. A lass who’s full of cooperation.”

“Cooperation? Isn’t that where this conversation started? I think we’re going in circles.”

“Isn’t that what love is? A never-ending circle?”

This man, she thought as his mouth covered hers, could talk a leopard out of his spots.

Before either of them could say anything else, the door opened and Ailie stepped inside.

Bella let out an inelegant yelp and jumped back.

Before she had a chance to collect her scattered thoughts and introduce her cousin to Ross, Ailie crossed the room and stopped in front of him, saying, “I know you. You’re one of the decadent despoilers of virgins, aren’t you? ”

“Don’t tell me you’re here to volunteer,” Ross said. “Two offers in one day. That must be some kind of record.”

Ailie seemed to be somewhat intrigued by that. “Two offers?” she asked, turning her head to stare at Bella. “Who was the first one?”

“Blast and double blast,” Annabella said. “Can’t anyone be trusted to keep his mouth shut anymore?”

Ailie looked aghast. “You mean it’s true? You offered yourself to him?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bella cried.

Ailie didn’t pay any attention to Bella, however. She was too busy looking Ross up and down. “I can’t believe you offered yourself to him…not that I blame you any,” she said. She glanced at Bella. “It doesn’t seem like you.”

“It isn’t like me,” Annabella said hotly. “After all, it was your idea.”

“ My idea?” Ailie said as if dumbfounded as to how on earth Annabella could have thought something like that was her idea—although it wasn’t such a bad idea at that. Slowly, understanding began to creep in. “Oh, that.”

Ross watched Ailie’s face pass through three shades of red before sticking on scarlet. She squirmed a bit before saying, “I suppose I just came barging in here…interrupting something.”

Annabella sighed. “You didn’t interrupt anything .”

Ailie had the audacity to look crestfallen. “I didn’t?”

“He turned me down,” Bella said. “Flat.”

Ailie’s surprised expression was directed at Ross. “You did?” She shook her head in disappointment. “You can’t be a decadent despoiler, then.”

“I’m not a decadent… Shit! It wasn’t like that. And I didn’t turn her down—not down flat, anyway.” He turned to Bella. “It was always my intention to take you up on it, just not right now—a counterfoil, so to speak.”

Ailie puzzled over everything Ross said for a minute, but Annabella’s understanding was right on target, “‘Counterfoil,’” she shrieked.

“As in a receipt?” She was closing in on him now.

She could never remember being so angry in her life.

How dared he insult her like this—and in front of her cousin? Her anger gave way to rage.

“Do you really think my offer was to be taken at your whim, like some…some raffle ticket! Even this ridiculous discussion is my business, not yours.” She poked him in the chest. “And it’s my decision to be taken whenever and if ever I choose .

” She poked him again. “Just whose virginity are we discussing here?”

“It sure as hell isn’t mine.”

“Don’t try being clever. You aren’t.”

“No, maybe I’m not, but I sure am lucky.”

“We’ll see about that,” she said. “We’ll just see about that.”

And Ross and Ailie saw something they had never seen before. They saw a woman transformed right before their very eyes—into a shrew.

The cozy little kitchen in this cottage was well stocked, and more importantly, everything was housekeeper handy—something Annabella found to her liking at this particular moment.

Furious at what was happening and the way things were going, Annabella was ready to draw the line on all the pushing around she had had in her short life.

She picked up the first thing she saw, which happened to be a pair of sugar-nippers, and threw them at Ross. He laughed and ducked.

Annabella saw red. Vivid red. Blood red.

The next things she grabbed were the brass stacking weights off the balance. Then the tinplate grater, a vegetable chopper, a wooden potato masher, an oak thimble, a long-handled ladle, an English trivet, a sugar tin—the lid came off and sugar went everywhere.

By now Ross had stopped laughing. He had decided she might be serious, since he was ducking things on a fairly regular basis.

Ailie was dusting sugar off herself, but she too was laughing—she had found refuge in the doorway that led to the bedroom. Out of the range of fire.

“Out! Out! Out!” Annabella shrieked.

“What’s got your dander up?” Ross asked while dodging again. “What did I do?”

“Get out of here and don’t ever come back!” Annabella screamed, picking up the dasher head from the churn and hurling it like a discus. The churn would have followed if it hadn’t been full of milk. She had no inkling of what she threw after that, but Ailie was keeping a pretty good account.

“One butter print,” Ailie said, “five clothes pins, two spoons with resin-filled handles, three bundles of hemp sulphur matches…no, make that four.” When Bella went for the cast-iron fish kettle, Ailie stopped counting and Ross shot through the door.

Luckily for Ross, the fish kettle was too heavy for her to throw.

“I’ll be back,” he called out.

“I’ll be waiting,” she yelled out the door as she let fly with the oatmeal roller. It struck him between the shoulder blades.

“Damnation,” he said, heading for the trees. “That woman could teach an arrow how to fly.” She’ll be sorry. As soon as she’s had time to cool down and think of what she’s done, she’ll be sorry, he thought and dived through the shrubbery.