"Not appeased. Not at all."
"No? You are a perverse man, Collin. Always so in control."
"If I were in control, I wouldn't have spent the past two days dashing to every damned social function in the city."
The eyebrow dropped. "Pardon me?"
"I saw you at the fair, riding by, and nearly had a fit of the vapors."
Her laugh stroked his body, warmed his blood. A sudden vision made him ache—Alexandra, above him, riding his shaft, a delighted laugh spilling from her mouth. One of the many fantasies he'd indulged in over the past months. She was a damned affliction and a painful one at that.
"I'm sorry you've been tormented. Still, it only serves you right."
"Oh?"
"Don't forget who walked away." "I rarely do."
Grinning, she grabbed his hand and pulled him out onto the path, out of their leafy alcove and back into the world. Collin tried not to groan as she turned them for a stroll into the darkest part of the garden.
"We could have already satisfied our curiosity and gotten over each other by now."
"You think so?"
When she shrugged, the small mounds of her breasts rose against her dress as Collin watched with avid interest. "Perhaps. Surely it's the anticipation, the wondering, that's made me so . . ." She shrugged again.
Collin swallowed. "So what?"
A frown tugged at her brow as her left hand drifted up to brush low against her belly. "So hungry."
His breath hissed out between his teeth, drawing her sparkling eyes.
"You have undone me, Collin Blackburn." She smiled a little when he didn't respond, shook her head sadly. "I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon."
"Tomorrow?" Panic tumbled his gut. "Why?"
"I'm going home. Let's not pretend you would invite me to stay."
"No," he said without thought and cursed himself when she smirked and looked away.
"You searched me out here, pulled me into the garden, fell upon me, as you say. What do you want, Collin? Certainly not a strolling companion."
"No."
"No?" She shot back, pulling her hand from his to cross her arms. "No, you know what I want."
"Hardly. I know what
I
want. I want you in my bed. If you wanted the same thing, we would've already been there."
"Jesus, do you want me to come and have you tonight? To slake my thirst and sneak out the window before the hour's out?"
"No."
"Then perhaps you'd be happy if I took you behind the hedge here and stood you against the wall?"
"No."
"No?" Collin swallowed hard, fighting the urge to shout at her.
"I want you to come back to England." Growling, cursing, he threw his hands in the air, wondering how she always drove him to such frustration. "Listen, Collin. I'm to go away next week. There's a small house outside my brother's land. It's mine, passed to me by my mother. Meet me there."
He stared at her, dumbfounded. Her chest rose and fell in rapid rhythm, excitement or anger, he couldn't tell. "Meet you."
"Yes. Stay with me. A week. Two. Long enough to ease this need we've roused between us."
His mind raced, weaving disastrous outcomes with his memories of her naked thighs. Stay with her. God, it was a terrible idea and a grand one, and every reason he'd ever had for not making love to her still applied. He no longer cared. He wasn't a damned saint.
"Where is this house?"
Alex smiled, then grinned, then squealed like a child and jumped into his arms to rain kisses over his face.
"I haven't agreed yet," he protested futilely before opening his mouth and kissing her back as her tongue stroked his. His body hardened and pulsed, aware, despite his words, that there was no turning back from this. He would have her finally, or she would have him.
"Tonight," he whispered fiercely. "Here. Stay here in Edinburgh."
When she shook her head, Collin felt suddenly sure he'd burn to ash if he didn't bury himself inside her soon.
"No." She gasped the word as he set his teeth to her neck. "Oh, God. No, not here. I want to be alone with you. No neighbors, no servants, just you." A moan. "The cottage is perfect. In the forest. No one will know."
Anger slashed him, sudden and sharp. "You've done this before."
"No!" She drew away, stumbling a little. "Of course not. I've only been there once. With my family."
God, he wanted to believe her. Wanted to be an exception in her life, not just one more indiscretion along the way, but she was so alive in his arms, not a woman to live staid and quiet as a spinster. He wasn't her first, but would he be her third or fourth or fifth? It shouldn't matter.
"Never mind." Her words were low, almost lost in me rustle of wind-blown trees. "Never mind."
"No, Alex. No . . . I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"Well, you did. And why shouldn't you?"
"Forgive me. It was jealousy, nothing more. Not logic."
"Of course not." She shrugged, smiled, but her eyes shone too bright.
"That won't happen again, I swear. God knows I'm not a virgin either. Shall I tell you of my sins so you can use them against me in the future?" She laughed, happy again, and Collin's gut unwound.
"Maybe just one sin."
"A little one?"
She shook her head, resumed her stroll, skirts a swaying seduction.
"A big one, hmm?" He stepped to join her, boots crunching on the shell path, and sifted through his embarrassments. One in particular was excavated rather easily.
"Thought of something, have you?"
"I've never told anyone."
"Oh, perfect! A secret sin."
Grimacing, he tried to think how to phrase it, how to make it sound better. No luck. "My first time. She was a married woman."
"Why, Collin Blackburn, isn't adultery a mortal sin in the Catholic Church?"
He rolled his eyes at her mock distress. "I'm not Catholic."
"Oh."
"Still, it was wrong, and I was ashamed. After it was done, at any rate."
"I believe that's how it normally works."
"Mm. In my defense, I was very young and a little eager to discover the joys of women. She was happy to teach me."
"I'd imagine so. Well, I can assure you I've never sinned with a married woman."
Collin choked, shook his head. "No?"
"What? How could I even—? I mean, how could a woman—?" She blushed fiercely, pink even in the moonlight. "Never mind. I don't want to know."
"Are you sure?" As her shock grew to mortification, Collin laughed aloud. "I'm teasing, Alex. You are scandalous enough without adding women to the plot."
"I didn't know they could be added," she muttered.
"They can't. Forget I mentioned it. Really."
"Hm."
"Have you been well?"
"I have. And you? Any word about St. Claire?"
"No. I'm not even sure he's still in France. He fled out a back window when we found his apartment."
"You went yourself?"
"Yes, for what good it did. The man's as slippery as an eel. I expect you'll never hear from him again. I'm sure he knows you turned the information over to me."
The path curved again, heading back to the well-lit patio. Collin watched her walk, memorized her neck, her bare arms, the tumble of wild hair.
"Is there some way I can help with your hair?"
"My hair?" Her fingers reached to inspect. "Oh." Her freckled nose wrinkled. "Oh."
"Beyond repair?"
"I think so."
"Shall I sneak you out the back then, and take you home?"
She sighed, huffed really. "I had hoped to dance with you."
Collin was shaking his head before she'd finished the sentence. "I don't dance." She opened her mouth to argue, but he rushed on. "I'm a bastard. I lived in a two room cottage until I was twelve. I don't dance. I don't know how."
"I could teach you."
"Perhaps you could, but not tonight."
"No, I suppose not. . . But you will let me teach you?" She'd brightened again, looking so young he felt perverted.
"We will negotiate the terms of my surrender at your cottage."
"Ooo, I like that. I shall have to draw up a list."
Her happy leer made him chuckle, then laugh aloud. There were so few people who made him laugh, but he couldn't avoid it with Alexandra. She threw off humor like sparks. Her eyes glittered and gleamed, pleased with his laugh. Finally giving himself over to the inevitable, Collin leaned down, aimed straight for her nose, and placed a chaste kiss on his very favorite freckle.
"Write a long list. If I'm going to hell, I want to be sure I earn my place."
"My philosophy exactly . . . in case you hadn't noticed."
His laugh boomed through the garden and echoed off the stone walls of the house.
Jeannie Kirkland had learned patience from her saint of a mother and it paid off in spades tonight. She waited and waited, not taking her eyes from the patio doors. Waited until she was sure he had snuck out the back gate. Finally, nearly an hour after he'd disappeared with Alexandra Huntington, Collin Blackburn slipped back into the ball.
He was a changed man, no longer radiating tension like a horse in a summer storm. No, now he looked tired and almost happy. Jeannie blinked. Surely he hadn't. . .
Oh, he was already edging toward the front door, that sneaky dog. She pushed away from the column she'd been supporting for the past hour and glided toward him. He didn't see her coming, didn't give a thought to her until she slid her arm through his and steered him toward the next set of doors. A hallway. Perfect.
He drew back when she released him, pulling in his chin to watch her with wary eyes. She took her time looking him over, noting every button undone and every hair out of place.
"Collin Blackburn, are those lilac petals in your hair?" "What?" Both his hands flew up as if to cover the evidence.
"Been doing a bit of gardening this fine even'?"
"Now, Jeannie—"
"I am verra, verra surprised at ye, me fine lad." She imitated the thick burr of her incorrigible grandmother, a woman who'd buried three husbands and claimed to have ridden them all to their deaths. "And ye, such an upstanding citizen, sae right in all ye do. Ach, 'tis a shock to me puir wee heart."
"Jeannie—"
"My God, Collin. Tell me everything. Who is she?"
"Who is she? She's your friend, isn't she?"
"Oh, give over. Is she still out there? I should tell you, Collin, that when you have an assignation with a lady in the garden, you are supposed to let her return first, then you follow a few minutes later. It's rude to leave her skulking about outside in the—"
"Your brother is right. You do read too much."
"'Your brother' he says, as if I didn't have eight. And never mind them. Where is she?"
"She's gone."
"Gone? Gone where?" Jeannie clapped a hand over her mouth in shock, then leaned up toward his blushing face. "Is she to meet you in your rooms then?"
"Jeannie Kirkland, you should be ashamed of yourself."
"Not as ashamed as you, I'd say. Your coat is all askew."
"What?" He drew back again, running hands over buttons and lapels. "What's wrong with it?"
"Well, it's misbuttoned for one. And it's dusted with flower petals just like your hair."
Grinning, she watched him refasten his coat and brush at it with violent strokes. When he'd finished, he glanced about the bright hallway before pulling her into the broad recess of a doorway. "You smell pretty," she crooned.
"You must not speak of this to anyone, Jeannie. She's a fine lady and I'll not have her name bandied about."
"Bah. Do you think me an idiot as well as a gossip?"
"No, I. . . No, of course not."
"I think she's very nice and I would love for a woman like her to live nearby. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a woman friend at hand?"
He stared blankly, reminding her of her brothers.
"A wife, Collin. It's plain you're in love with the girl. I've never seen you so bothered."
His blankness hardened quickly into outrage. "I am certainly not in love. She's a friend, is all."
"I am a friend, and I daresay you've never dragged me into a dark garden to make love. And you've certainly never worn diamonds for me." She poked a finger at his cravat.
"Listen to me," he whispered harshly, taking her wrist in a firm grip. "She is the sister of a duke. I did not make love to her in the garden and I am certainly not going to ask for her hand." He glared until she shrugged, then huffed, "A wife."
