The Laird's Willful Lass (The Lairds Most Likely 1) - Page 17

The Mackinnon responded with one of those already familiar huffs of sardonic laughter. “My bonny signorina, do ye have much experience of broken bones?”

“I’m sure if you’ll lend us a carriage…”

“And I’m sure that your father is stuck here for several weeks. Perhaps longer.”

“Several weeks?” She couldn’t conceal her horror.

Per l’amor di dio, several weeks of this man telling her what to do? Several weeks of fighting this roiling sexual attraction? Several weeks of reminding herself that she wasn’t a woman who crumpled into a man’s arms just because he was bold and strong, and he had a spark in his eye that told her he wanted her?

This time he did smile, and how she wished he hadn’t. He was a handsome man anyway. The smile made him more approachable, irresistibly charming. Within reach, when she knew the danger of reaching out to take him.

The inchoate, unwelcome impulses that had tormented her from her first meeting with the Mackinnon solidified into desire.

A hint of wolfishness entered that smile. “Aye, Signorina Lucchetti, you’d better face the fact that you’ll be my guest for at least the next month.”

Chapter Four

Fergus leaned his elbow on the mantelpiece and watched her reaction. His unexpected house guest wasn’t at all the sort of woman who met with his approval. But by God, Marina Lucchetti was the most interesting thing that had happened to Achnasheen since…

Well, since forever.

And she was stuck here in his power until her father could walk again. Who knew what mischief a man could get up to, when he had a reckless lassie to pursue?

Beneath their odd, rather spiky conversation, a growing attraction bubbled. He nursed a suspicion that he wasn’t any more her preferred type of gentleman than she was his type of lady. He also had a feeling that their preferences would soon matter less than the passion flaring between them.

Did her claims of independence mean she’d come to a lover’s bed without promises of marriage? He didn’t know enough about this exotic creature, a woman outside a man’s control, to be sure.

The signs were good. She seemed to take his company in her stride, and she hadn’t accepted his offer to provide a chaperone. In Scotland, that indicated a woman of some experience, and perhaps an eye to an affair. Was it the same in Italy?

He’d never traveled further than London, and that was five years ago. What the devil did he know about society in lands across the seas?

But a laddie could hope, couldn’t he?

What he did know was that he’d never experienced such a swift and powerful yen to have a lassie. The moment he’d met those snapping black eyes staring him down from the window of the wrecked carriage, he’d wanted her. His hunger had only grown since. He couldn’t be happier she was staying.

But the dismay with which she greeted his announcement of an extended visit indicated that he was getting ahead of himself. “We can’t put you out so long,” she said.

“You’re going to argue with me again,” he said in a long-suffering tone, as he stepped away from the hearth and extended his hand to her. “I feel it in my bones.”

She had the grace to smile. “Probably.”

When she took his hand and rose, heat sizzled up his arm like raging flame. His heart crashed into his ribs with the sort of force that had brought her carriage to grief at the bridge.

All from merely holding her hand. If she ever kissed him, he’d explode like a keg of gunpowder.

“Then come through to supper.” It was an effort to hide the titanic effect she had on him, but at this early stage, he didn’t want to make her skittish about his intentions. He tucked her hand into his arm. “You’ll need your strength, if you plan to take up your cudgels again.”

“My goodness, this really is a castle,” she said in awe, as they entered the vaulted dining room, with its tall lancet windows and tapestries. “No wonder your ideas are so out of date.”

The prospect of her company put him in such a good humor, her jibe made him laugh. “After you’ve been here a month, I’ll wager ye’ll agree that what’s tried and true works at Achnasheen.”

Fergus pulled out a heavy chair for her. The massive oak table was designed for c

lan gatherings, but he’d asked for Signorina Lucchetti’s place to be set beside him at the head. Heavy silver candelabra extended down the length of the table, but only the two nearest ones were lit, lending an air of intimacy.

Kirsty and Jenny brought in the food, and Jock took charge of the wine. Then they left Fergus alone with his intriguing guest.

Signorina Lucchetti tasted her soup, then set down her spoon and sent him one of those uncompromising looks that rapidly became familiar. He was used to lassies who sidled around telling a man what they thought and were quick to bend to a stronger opinion. He had a feeling this lady’s opinions were as strong as his own, and she wasn’t at all shy about expressing them.

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