She was used to discouraging predatory men. A woman who dealt with gentlemen through business as often as she did met flirtation, and sometimes propositions that went way beyond flirtation.
What was exceptional—and worrying—about her encounter with this forthright Scotsman was that her first reaction wasn’t the usual vexation, but anticipation and a slow, swirling heat in the pit of her stomach.
“I see my sister’s dress fits you, although it’s a trifle short.”
“I owe your sister a debt.”
She tried not to notice how his glance flickered down to the ankles on display beneath the pretty yellow gown with its delicate lace trim. His sister also owned the stockings and filmy undergarments. Marina hid a shiver as she imagined this man choosing her intimate clothing, although more likely he’d set a servant to the task.
There had been a selection of shoes of various sizes waiting in her room, too. “You even found slippers to fit me.”
“Aye. We raided every wardrobe in the house to find those. They’re my Great-Aunt Frances’s. My sister is small and blonde.”
And Marina was tall and dark. She blushed—and she never blushed—to realize that her hand remained in his. “Well, they’ve both come to my rescue,” she stammered like some fool of a debutante attending her first assembly.
“Come and sit beside me and have a glass of wine. Dinner willnae be long.”
Sitting next to him seemed unwise, but making a fuss would only draw attention to her prickling awareness of his proximity. She drew a shaky breath and decided to pretend that she was used to evenings alone with dashing gentlemen.
Keeping hold of her hand, the Mackinnon led Marina across to a velvet-covered chaise longue and waited for her to sit before he took his place beside her. More fluttery feelings in her stomach, and she hardly noticed her aches and pains anymore.
Perhaps, she thought without much conviction, she was just hungry. It was a long time since she’d eaten. She tried to muster a bit of backbone by telling herself he was pushing her around again. But after the day she’d had, it was marvelously soothing to accept his care and admiration, even if it came with a side dish of command.
Marina cast around for some subject to distract him from watching her with such unabashed masculine interest. “No dogs?”
His gaze didn’t waver. “They’re down in the kitchen, hoping for scraps.”
She pretended interest in a gloomy landscape across the room, although if anyone had asked her, she couldn’t have named a single object in the painting. She had a sinking feeling that if she met the Mackinnon’s eyes, he’d guess her unwilling fascination with him. She developed an inkling that this was a man who understood a woman’s weaknesses—and how to take advantage of them. “What are their names?”
“Macushla and Brecon. They’re brother and sister. Their father Bailey was the best dog in Scotland. He died of old age last year.”
The sadness in his voice made her stop avoiding his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Aye, so am I. He was the companion of my youth. I still feel like his ghost is running at Banshee’s heels when we’re galloping over the hills.”
“Perhaps it is,” she said softly. She fought a crazy urge to take the elegant hand that rested on his thigh and offer comfort. They were chance-met strangers. There was no reason for her heart to melt at the love in his voice when he spoke of his old dog. “I like dogs.”
“Do you have one?”
“No, I’m away from home too often to have a pet.”
“And am I permitted to ken the name of the bonny lassie who likes dogs and who owes such a debt of gratitude to my sister Clarissa?”
/> Shocked, she straightened. She struggled to ignore that sneaky “bonny” in his question. “Cielo, we never did introduce ourselves, did we?”
His long, expressive mouth twisted with the mocking humor she now knew was characteristic. “For most of our acquaintance, we had other things on our minds. I’m Fergus Mackinnon.”
“The Mackinnon.”
“Aye. I’m the chief of the clan, and Laird of Achnasheen.”
That smooth baritone turned the three syllables of the place name into music. “What a lovely name for an estate.”
“It means ‘field of rain.’ Which as you’ve discovered today is regrettably accurate.”
“At least it stopped after a little while.”
“Still, you didn’t get the best introduction to my home, Signorina…?”