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Authors: Victoria Dahl

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BOOK: To Tempt a Scotsman
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"I'm trying to do the right thing by you. Don't look past me like that."
She finally met his eyes and he saw them warm to just above freezing. "It is a rather uncomfortable situation, is it not?"
"It does not have to be. It was a surpassingly lovely morning."
Her lips quirked. "I did enjoy myself."
"Well, lassie,"—he couldn't resist pressing a quick peck to her mouth—"so did I."

Alex glanced away and forced a wider smile. He was very sweet to lie to her like that. It was part of the problem, this extreme likeability of his.

"We should head back," she murmured. "We will miss luncheon."

Her not-quite lover nodded and bent to retrieve his coat. He gave her a searching look before he walked away toward Thor.

When he'd gone, she put her hands to her face and groaned. How embarrassing this all was. She should have learned her lesson the last time she'd been humiliated by her baser needs. Of course, that time had been nothing like this. No, this time had been very nearly worth any amount of embarrassment.
Nearly. It had taken her a few awkward moments to realize he was rejecting her. She'd offered herself to him like the harlot she was, and he had, very politely, turned her down. She didn't even know that men would do that.
He must find her wanting in some way. She almost smiled at the thought, despite her rising humiliation. Oh, she was wanting all right.
Not waiting for help from him, she scrambled onto Brinn's back and stared out at the sea until she heard the soft sound of hooves behind her. When she turned, she found Collin watching her intently and smiled for his benefit. No need to make him feel guilty for something she had forced between them.
During the long ride back, Alex made every effort to keep some distance between their horses, trying, simultaneously, not to make it obvious. But as they drew closer to the manor, Collin pulled his horse next to hers and said her name.
She sent him a vacuous smile. "Alexandra, I wanted to ask you. . ." "Yes?"
"Will you contact me if St. Claire writes again?"

She frowned, blinked. She had not expected to hear him speak of it again. "I. . . But what of the information I gave you?"

He shook his head. "Old."

"Oh." More humiliation to add to his account. "You didn't tell me."

He had the grace, at least, to shift in his saddle. "When I left Somerhart, I left with the intention of coming back in two weeks to see if you'd received additional letters. But I thought, now, considering the circumstances, perhaps it would be better if you simply sent me notice next time."

Her spine stiffened. What did he mean by "the circumstances?" And had he shown interest in her just to secure her cooperation?
She glared at him, and he looked back, mouth flat and miserable, but his eyes did not avoid hers. No. No, he hadn't used her. He seemed more noble than any nobleman she'd ever met. And anyway, he hadn't bothered to cement their relationship nearly as tightly as he could have. The very uncomfortable "circum-stance" he'd referred to, no doubt.
"I'll send the direction," she said simply.
When they reached the manor, she tossed her reins to a groom while Collin led his own horse to the stables. She hurried into the house and up the stairs and told herself she had no reason to be mad at him for rejecting her when she was the woman who'd betrayed his brother so vilely. She should be thankful he could be kind to her, be friendly. But as she closed her bedroom door with a firm thud, thankfulness was the least of her emotions.
Chapter 5
She'll be gone in the morning.
Collin told himself this every time his eye fell on Alexandra Huntington.
Don't worry. She'll be gone soon.
She looked beautiful, of course, in a fluff of red dress that accentuated her alabaster skin and the smallness of her waist. The dress also rather successfully drew the eye to the soft rise of her breasts. It was not daring by society standards, but the bodice curved more than low enough to offer a tantalizing glimpse of her firm breasts. Collin did what he could to stop himself staring. Not an easy task when he could picture perfectly the shape and shade of them beneath his hand.
Perhaps more maddening than his fascination with her bosom was the way her eyes slid away from his every time he looked at her. Even when he'd greeted her before dinner she'd stared at his collar. Now she stared at the wineglass that had not left her hand since the first course was served.

"How is your head?"

She blinked as if drawn from a deep thought. "Pardon me?"

"Your head. That is why you missed luncheon? A headache?"

"Oh. Yes. My head is better, thank you."
"I hope it was not the strenuous ride today that discomposed you." Oh, her eyes flew to meet his then.
Collin kept his face straight—very straight—and raised an innocent, inquiring brow. Her cheeks flamed.
"It was not the ride, Mr. Blackburn," she bit out. "I am an experienced rider, after all."
Ouch. Her behavior was so demure this evening that he'd forgotten that kittens' claws were not only tiny but also devastatingly sharp.

"Of course." This time, when she looked away, he slumped back into the chair to glare at his bowl of stewed fruit.

"My word," Lucy injected into the silence that followed. "Our guests are quiet this evening, George. I do believe we're boring them to death with our rusticating ways."
They both muttered something negative. Lucy's eyes narrowed.
"You two rode together this morning?"

"Yes," Alex squeaked and sat up straighten

Collin felt the hair on his nape rise at his cousin's suspicious look. A sudden memory of naked thighs assaulted him.

"Did you argue? Collin, were you bothering her about London again?"

"No. No, we did not argue. Absolutely not."

"Alex?"

"Of course not, Lucy. Perhaps we only went too far, after all. I'm exhausted."
Went too far. Oh, she was clever. So clever he wanted to shake her. My God, you'd think he'd ravished an innocent the way she treated him as if he had the plague. Hadn't he been admirably restrained? Hadn't he saved her from making a dire mistake?
Her words pierced the fog of his resentment. "I believe I shall retire now. I don't wish to be rude, but—"
"Oh, but it's your last night here!"
"I know, Lucy. I know. But I must leave early. I'd hoped to make it back to Somerhart by tomorrow evening."

"You can sleep in the carriage."

Alex laughed and shook her head. "No. I'm going to ride Brinn and have the carriage follow. I'll make better time."

"But—"

"Stop!" She cried out, laughing at Lucy's pout. "I'll see you in a month, after all, before your trip to the Continent."

Lucy sighed and let her shoulders slump in melodramatic defeat. "All right. I suppose if you're tired, you're tired. But do not leave in the morning without saying good-bye."
"I promise." Alex quickly drained the dregs of her wine and stood. She kissed Lucy's cheek, hugged George, and spared Collin the barest nod before fleeing the room.
A violent jolt of anger shot through him. Did she think that she could just dismiss him, just walk away with nothing but a nod? By God, he wasn't one of her London playthings.
"Collin?"
Lucy and George had retaken their seats and now sat gaping up at him while he stood and stared at the empty doorway.

"Are you quite well? I don't know what's happened between you two, but—"

"Excuse me," he interrupted.

Lucy's laughter followed him when he stalked from the room.

Alex frowned when she spotted Danielle dozing on a chair by her open trunk. She couldn't help but wonder if her maid had also spent an exhausting morning being humiliated by a man.

"Danielle, darling, wake up and go get some dinner."
Her brown eyes popped wide in shock. "Merde, I'm sorry! The packing is finished."

"Thank you. Now go and feed yourself and don't forget to go to bed tonight."

The maid's sly smile answered her curiosity. Not an embarrassing morning then, but an adventurous night. Danielle was so delightfully French. Only she had dismissed Alex's terrible scandal with a shrug and sniff. "Was it worth it?" had been all she'd asked. Her companionship had been just what Alex needed in the time since.

She closed the door on her maid's saucy grin and, with a deep sigh, leaned against the ancient wood. She felt so tired. She should not have had those extra glasses of wine with dinner. She should not have skipped luncheon either, but it had taken her all day just to screw up her courage and face him.
It wasn't just the rejection. It was the letter that had been waiting in her room when she'd returned from her unsuccessful tryst. If only Prescott had ignored her instructions to forward personal mail.
The sharp knock she'd been half-expecting rattled the door against her back.
"Good God," Alex muttered, pressing a hand to her stuttering heart. She knew who it was. He'd glared daggers into her just moments before when she'd said her goodbyes. What the hell did he want from her?

Steeling herself against the coming confrontation, she stepped away from the door and opened it just a crack.

"Alexandra," he said in a suspiciously even voice. "Might I speak with you?"

"Yes."

His mouth tightened. "Will you open the door?"

She stared at him for a long moment just to be difficult, then let the door swing open. "What is it?"
She pretended not to notice his anger, but she did back a few steps away from him as he slipped in and shut the door.
"Why are you acting like this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like I've done something terrible."

"I'm not acting that way at all."

"You won't speak to me. You won't even look at me. You're leaving tomorrow and all you can manage for me is a nod of your damned head?"

Oh, this was ridiculous. "I can't imagine why you'd care."

Collin growled, hands crumpling to fists. "You think I wouldn't even care to say a proper good-bye to you?"

Her temper ruled her, off-balance as she was from a combination of his overwhelming presence and the wine she'd consumed. "I think that you had every reason not to like me when we met, and I think you do not like me now. I, I offered myself to you like a . .." She pulled herself straight and refused to say it. "And you didn't want me."
"That's absolutely not true."
"Of course it is." She looked down at the floor, unable to meet his suddenly understanding gaze. "You're simply too nice to say it."

"Come here."

"No." She shook her head to emphasize the word. She heard a step and saw his boots come into her line of vision.

"Alex," he said more softly.

She shook her head again, wishing he'd go away, wishing she didn't feel so uncertain. She felt his hand beneath her chin and let him raise her face to his gaze.
"Surely you know when a man wants you."
"Apparently not."
"Alex." She heard the laughter in the word, his amusement at her pouting. And then his breath touched her lips. And then his mouth was against hers and she was sighing and opening to him.

The kiss was so soft, so hesitant that, though her heart leapt at the touch, it only confirmed what she feared. He did not want her as she wanted him. He didn't kiss her hard and hot. He didn't push her to the bed and strip her naked and slake his need. He only held her, licked gently at her bottom lip.

She wanted his tongue. She wanted his arousal.
She broke away, swiped at the warmth that lingered on her mouth. "Don't lie to me, Collin." Ignoring his shocked eyes, she spun and jerked open the corner drawer of her dresser.

"Here." She thrust the stiff paper into his hands, pushing it away from her. "Take it. Leave." He just stared at her a moment, looking almost hurt.

Finally, he glanced down, brow furrowed as he turned the paper over in his hands. "What is it?"

"What do you think it is?"

The paper snapped, it unfolded so quickly beneath his fingers. His face blanked, then flushed. Alex turned to her trunk and smoothed the already neat bundles of clothing.
She'd given it to him in anger, and already her hand itched to snatch it back. Damien's note was passionate and flirtatious, and she'd only wanted to show Collin that someone didn't think her too low to desire. Now she felt foolish. Used.
"It came this afternoon," she muttered. The letter was brief. Surely he'd finished it.
"I thank you for the information. And the titillation."
A glance over her shoulder found him holding it out toward her. She sniffed. "Shouldn't you keep it? It's what you wanted, after all."
BOOK: To Tempt a Scotsman
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