Taken by Angeline Fortin (ebook reader with android os TXT) 📕

“Of course.”

“Hmm.”  Mischief seized her in its wicked grasp.  Perhaps it was time to give Rhys a little of his own.  Scarlett slouched down in her chair, relaxing against the back.  Her knees parted but a tad.  Giving him her most seductive look once more, she drew her forefinger slowly across her lower lip and then down her chin and throat.  “Mmmm,” she sighed and breathed heavily.

Rhys’ eyes widened, his mask of deviltry truly slipping for the first time she met him.  “What are ye aboot, Scarlett?”

He seemed almost panicked, gripping the arms of his chair as if he meant to stand but Scarlett wasn’t about to stop.  No, she was going to give him her best When Harry met Sally reenactment if only to prove a point and bedevil him just a bit.  Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back against the chair, shifting restlessly and moaning with increasing volume until she was tossing her head from side to side, clenching her short hair in one fisted hand as she pounded the arm of her chair with the other.  “Yes!  Oh God!  Oh God!  Yes!  Yes!  Yes!”

When Scarlett opened her eyes, Rhys’ eyes were once again dancing with amusement and a newfound appreciation.  “So no’ a nun then?”

Scarlett bit her lip but joined him when he burst out in laughter.

“Would that be such a horrible thing if I were?”

“No’ for me.  But for some.”

“My, my.  How ambiguous.  No, Rhys, I am not a nun.  There.  Happy?”

Rhys nodded.  “Ye may no’ be a nun but yer a verra fine actor, Scarlett. I might ne’er trust yer words or actions again.”

“Then mission accomplished.”

Their laughter mingled again until the door was thrown open, crashing against the stone wall and Laird was there, filling the door.  His gaze shot first to the bed before finding them sitting far apart near the fireplace. “What the bluidy hell?”

“Calm yerself, brother,” Rhys drawled calmly as he levered himself leisurely from his chair and strolled to the door, slapping Laird’s shoulder as he passed.  “Scarlett was merely treating me to a demonstration of her fine acting talents.  Verra enlightening.  My thanks again, my lady.”  He gave her a short bow.  “And I will be sure to hae Graeme send ye up a bath straight away.”

“Thank you, Rhys.”

The door closed behind him leaving Scarlett alone with Laird.  Though he hadn’t moved any more than she had, she felt his presence as completely as if he were standing right next to her.  The tension.  The lingering anger.  The charged nerves.

No, those were hers. 

He unsettled her in every way.  She employed more of her acting skills in that moment than she ever had before to radiate a tranquility she didn’t feel.  “Don’t you knock?” she asked lightly.  “You never know what you might be walking in on.  Or were you thinking to watch?”

Laird made a strangled noise deep in his throat.  “What was my brother doing in yer room?” he choked out.

“Obviously not what you thought we were doing.  What are you doing here?”

“Oddly enough, I came to offer my apologies.”

Glancing up through her lashes, she met his gaze for the first time.  There was none of the anger she expected to see considering the way they had last parted.  No, his were blazing with a fire she had never seen in a man’s eyes.

This was nothing like the soft, simmering desire of the previous night.

She’d seen lust before.  On him, it was unnerving.  Even slightly terrifying, yet she felt an answering sizzle spark deep in her belly and her pulse raced in anticipation as he took a step toward her.  Involuntarily, she backed away, one pace and then another to match each of his until her back was pressed against the wall.

“Your apologies?” she said shakily.  “I’m the one who should apologize.”

Would he kiss her again?  Scarlett spread her palms over the cool stone.  Hoping that a similar chill might seep into her?  Looking for an escape?

“Nay, lass, the fault was mine.”

She bit her lip as he came, step by step, until the radiant heat of his body caressed her.  The veins straining in his neck and forearms thrilled her.  Lord, she had been around men who were too pretty for too long.  Laird was unbearably rugged, too rough.  Too devastating to her senses to bear.

She didn’t want him so close.

She wanted him closer still.

Well, what are you waiting for?  The wicked devil that sat on the opposite shoulder to reason goaded with a wicked chuckle.  He’s right there.  Yours for the taking. 

Another blush crept up her cheeks.  No, she couldn’t possibly.

Why not? The devil teased.  He’s the best part of this whole nightmare, He’s a tempting diversion.  Can you think of a better way to pass the time?

No, she couldn’t.

The admission made her more conservative conscience sigh in disappointment.

But yearning for Laird flared through every inch of her body, setting her afire.  Her heart jittered in her chest like a violent water sprinkler, but the flames would not be doused.  Primal lust.  Lust like she had never felt before even though he hadn’t laid a finger upon her yet.  Lust she felt compelled to act upon, which in itself was surprising.

“I heard ye from all the way down the hall, lass,” he bit out, looming over her until she was cast in his shadow.  “I warned ye aboot him, dinnae I?  Do ye ken what I thought?”

Yes, she knew what he had thought he had heard and what he had assumed she was doing when he barged into her room.  Yet he had barged in anyway, angrier than she had seen him thus far.  Or jealous?

Scarlett swallowed back the lump in her throat.  Her tongue darted out to moisten her suddenly dry lips.  “It was just a joke.”

“’Twas no’ amusing.”

His lips slanted over hers with a low groan, forcing her head back and compelling her lips to part. This wasn’t the tender assault he’d employed