Page 78 of The Scottish Duke's Deal

“Come here,” Ramsay said, low and coaxing.

She didn’t.

He tilted his head, mouth curving. “Would you rather I come get you?”

Her breath caught. She stepped forward, slowly. “You are impossible,” she said, barely above a breath.

“And you’re stalling.”

“For what?”

“For this.”

He closed the distance before she could retreat. His hands came to her waist—broad, warm, shockingly gentle—and in one fluid motion, he lifted her clean off the ground.

“Ramsay!”

“Easy,” he murmured, holding her like she weighed nothing. “You’re lighter than Penelope.”

“That is not a compliment.”

“It is,” he said, voice a little rougher now. “She’s half your height and three times the menace.”

He swung onto the horse, settling her in front of him, her spine flush against his chest. His thighs bracketed hers. His arm came around her, firm and certain, fingers grazing her skirt.

“If you’re going to object to every flattery,” he said near her ear, “this is going to be a very difficult ride.”

“I’m not dressed for this?—”

“If you don’t like your dress,” he said, breath ghosting across her skin, “remove it.”

Her whole body tightened.

He didn’t move. Didn’t touch her inappropriately. Didn’t press.

But the way hesaid it. Theheatbeneath it. The challenge laced through the teasing. It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a provocation. And it worked.

Her pulse pounded in places it had no business reaching.

She twisted slightly in his hold, just enough to glance back at him. “Is this how you charm women in Scotland?”

He smiled without showing teeth. “No. In Scotland, I don’t bother with charm.”

“God help them.”

“They don’t complain.”

“I’m sure they don’t dare.”

He flicked the reins once, and the horse began to move—smooth and steady. Every step sent a ripple through her. Every shift of his body behind her was a spark waiting to land.

She didn’t speak again.

Not because she had nothing to say.

But because her heart was already speaking far too loudly for her to hear anything else.

They rode together. She should have hated it. The heat, the proximity, the complete lack of propriety. But his body was warm against her back, and when the horse moved, she could feel the shift of his chest, his breath at her ear.