My Heart's in the Highlands by Angeline Fortin (ebook reader screen TXT) 📕

attraction wrongly.Was her kiss hesitant rather than tentative? Was her teasingplayful banter rather than provocative flirtation?

For all his experience with the opposite sex,Ian had never been party to enticing repartee that was meant asnothing more than innocent wordplay. Bugger it all, between hernatural reticence and innocence, Hero had a way of stirring a man’suncertainties. Her frequent blushes and her shy glances— Had theyled him to assume more than he should? God help him if she wasmerely being an accommodating guest, eager to please her host.

Obligation was the very last thing he desiredfrom her.

No, Ian shook his head. Hero’s passions wereevident. She wanted him, and perhaps it was that knowledge thatmade it harder for him to resist the urge to act. Knowing he couldeasily have her. What was he waiting for?

But Ian knew the answer before the thoughtfinished echoing in his mind. Ian wanted not only her body but herheart as well. Her mind. For the first time in his life, he refusedto take one without the rest.

Rolling his eyes skyward, Ian nearly chokedon the thought, fighting the truth of it. Hero was coming to carefor him, true. When he looked into her brilliant mosaic eyes, therewas more than desire. There was affection growing. Respect. Perhapseven blossoming love.

Is that what he wanted, Ian asked himself.The thought would have nauseated him a month ago. He would havethought himself rattling the cage of insanity.

Ian wasn’t a romantic. No matter what thefairy tales said, love didn’t happen overnight or even in a week’stime. For a man who had never believed in it at all, the idea wasludicrous. After a sennight’s acquaintance, the very idea waspreposterous. Lust and desire, for certain. Growing affection,reasonable. It was impossible not to be enthralled by a woman inpossession of Hero’s intelligence, caring, and quiet humor.

He might have considered taking her for hiswife, but did he truly want Hero’s love?

Cradling his head between his hands, Ianlaughed in derision. Who was he fooling? The truer miracle would bein denying the inevitable. He had seen a great love between hisparents before they died. He knew what it looked like.

It would be so incredibly easy if he allowedit.

“My lord?” a voice called from his ownbedchamber, and Ian left the marchioness’s rooms, closing the doorsbehind him. It wouldn’t do at all to have his staff know that hehad been in Hero’s old rooms. A reluctant grin lifted the corner ofIan’s mouth. Even to him, those moments seemed vaguely prurient, aninvasion of her privacy, though Hero resided there no longer. “Thedinner bell has sounded, my lord.”

Chapter Fifteen

The striking of a jarringly erroneous notemade Hero lift her fingers from the keyboard with a cringe. Awarethat both Ian and her father had turned with a surprised wince atthe discordant note, she forced her attention back to the piano andabandoned Franz Liszt’s Dream of Love for Benjamin Carr’smuch simpler Scotch ballad Thou Art Gone Awa’.

Hero had been playing the piano in the BlueDrawing Room for hours since dinner had ended while Ian and herfather played cribbage. Her fingers were cramping but if shestopped, what excuse would she have to remain? It was getting late,surely too late for a polite evening’s gathering.

Tapping her foot impatiently, she glanced atthe clock once more. Where was Cooper, she wondered for at leastthe tenth time. Her father’s night nurse should have been here atleast an hour ago to fetch him. To lead the duke off to bed so thatHero might have her time with Ian. The only time in the course ofthe day she had him truly to herself.

If Cooper didn’t show up soon, Hero wouldsurely sack him.

As if he knew the thoughts in her head,Cooper tapped on the door and entered. Hero was hard put not tothrow her hands into the air and yell ‘Halleluiah,’ though she didwhisper it under her breath.

“My apologies, my lady, for my tardiness,”the nurse said sheepishly.

Though Hero didn’t think the man looked atall apologetic, she was too anxious to have him gone to make a fussover the matter. She bid her father a goodnight with a kiss andwaited until the door closed behind them before turning back toIan, clasping her hands tightly in front of her.

“Anxious, are we?” Ian teased as he ambledtoward her with his hands hanging loosely in his pockets. He hadloosened his cravat at some point and run a hand through his hair,giving him a relaxed, rumpled look that Hero loved. In the dimlight cast by the gas sconces, Ian looked so incredibly handsomethat Hero could hardly respond. Anxious? She wanted to be the oneto run her fingers through that dark hair and stare up into thosewarm cocoa eyes.

“Not at all,” she responded primly, and Iangrinned wolfishly at her.

“No? I thought you were going to strangle theivories at any moment.”

Humor laced his brogue but Hero didn’t feelthat Ian was at all disappointed by the idea that she wasanticipating their time alone. “It was a difficult piece.”

“You’re a difficult piece,” Ian replied.

Uncertain whether that was a good thing or abad thing, Hero merely inclined her head and boldly asked. “Shallwe take our evening stroll, my lord?”

“Much to my regret, it has begun to rain,” heanswered.

Surprised, Hero turned to the windows toascertain the truth for herself and within moments was inwardlycursing Cooper for his delay in the most unladylike terms.

“Perhaps there is an alternative, however,”Ian went on silkily. “If you’re not too tired?”

With her curiosity roused by his mysterioustone, Hero shook her head. “What do you have in mind?” The querystartled her as it emerged from her lips, not so much because ofthe question itself but because of the ideas it brought toher mind. Was Ian going to suggest they retire together? Orperhaps she might lead him to her rooms, Hero thought boldly. Shemight whisper in his ear how she longed for his kiss and so muchmore.

Ian set her hand in the crook of his arm andled Hero into the hall. Much to her disappointment, he led her notto her room