Chapter One

1830 Glasgow

When she stepped from the musty old stairway, the long dark hallway that earlier was filled with cobwebs now was encapsulated with light. Lanterns were lit giving off a shimmering glow. Music filtered into the space from an open door. Laughter along with a few feminine shrieks added a bizarre sound echoing against the walls. Each hesitant footstep took her closer to the center of all the activities. This room was not like she remembered. The sounds coupled with the atmosphere were far different. This was not the musty scented old bookstore she entered. Nothing was close to the same. Shivers wracked her body. The perfume of unwashed bodies spilled into the hallway.

When she reached the main room, all hell broke loose in front of her. Scantily clad women greeted her eyes. Bawdy music played. Risqué tunes were bellowed from a man who was pounding the piano. Her heart lodged in her throat at the orgy that greeted her. Naked men as well as women lounged in various places around the room. She looked over her shoulder to see if the proprietor of the bookstore she entered about an hour ago was behind her. He was not. Except for the men and women occupying what appeared to be a large drawing room, she was alone. Unable to think, Dawn froze.

Dark red drapes hung from the front windows. The room was painted in lavish reds and golds. A huge mirror reflected the patrons of what appeared to be a bordello. On one wall a painting of a naked woman was the attraction. Half way up the stairs leading to the second floor, a woman had her legs wrapped around the flanks of a man while he grunted, pushing her against wall.

Closing her eyes for an instant of distress, Dawn clutched the book she found downstairs in the basement room while she tried to walk to the front door without an incident. She focused on the door. Tried to become inconspicuous. Slipped past one naked man whose sex was fully rigid. She managed to get a few steps into the room before she was seen.

What happened to the bookstore?

“Hey there, wee lassie! Wanna come sit on Fredy’s lap. Dinna take no for an answer.” He patted himself where he wanted her. She stopped. Her eyes wide. This time the man slapped his thighs. He was portly, his belly hanging over the belt he wore to keep his pants on. His shirt hung open in the front showing an abundance of snow-white hair. The bulbous nose was red. “Ye won’t regret nothing if you give me a chance. You’re a real looker.” He grinned at her. “Come on. Sit on me. I’ll show you a good time. Rock you until you cry out.”

The cringe worked its way up her spine then spiraled downward as if lightning hit. Dawn found herself pulled onto a different man’s lap. “No!” Her arms whirling, she pushed away, spilling herself onto the floor. Her book stabbed her beneath her chin. Within seconds she was standing, turning to run. The man grabbed at her arm yanking her back to his thighs. He held her, his hands on her waist, squeezing. One of those meaty hands slipped upward to cup her breast. No…no…no…! Dear God, he smelled of rancid whiskey along with day old sweat. If she had to smell this much longer, she would vomit on him. “Let me go!” She pushed with all her strength. “I’m not what you think I am!”

“What’s you doing in here if you don’t want a little feel here and there? A poke or two. My money is as good as any man’s,” outraged, the man asked. He was now yanking her tank top upward. His hand moved across bared skin. Dawn pushed on his forearms, trying to wiggle herself from this unwanted predicament. He tugged on her bra managing to push the cups below her breasts. She pushed against him, hauling her clothing back in place.

“Dear Lord,” she murmured catching site of the people sitting on the same couch, right next to her. She looked up to see another man suckling on a woman’s bared breast, his hand kneading the other one. Her head thrown back, the woman moaned. Dawn gulped air. Blood pounded swishing through her ears at an alarming rate. This had to be a brothel. It was a bookstore when she entered. There were even rows and rows of books to wade through. Instead of books now there were large sofas along with overstuffed chairs that would easily accommodate more than one person. Dawn recognized the ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling glistening from the light hitting the glass prisms. A woman sashayed by with drinks on a tray. Her dress reached her knees and just covered her bosom, her nipples peeking out. It was bright pink edged with black lace.

With an abrupt jerk, she found herself hauled to her feet. The man holding her by the arms glowered at her as he spoke, threatening her. While her feet were dangling inches away from the floor, the man shook her, “Ye dinna belong here, Lassie. If you be wantin’ a job in this establishment, ye got to go see the madam. Miss Pearl’s her name. She does the hiring along with the firing.” This time the shake he gave her jerked her head back. Setting her on the floor he now held the back of her tank top and was propelling her from the room. As if she didn’t want to get out of there, he pushed her along, her feet barely touched upon the floor. The door in front of her opened. While her arms and legs whirled in a feeble attempt to keep her balance, she was propelled through the air. She made a hasty grab for the cast-iron railing.

Missed by the width of fingertips.

She tumbled down the steps on her rear-end to land on her backside on the bricks in front of the building. “Oh!” she yelped, mortified. Dawn had to close her eyes while the pain shot up her spine. She breathed deeply, in then out. Didn’t think anything was broken.

“That was quite the exit,” a low husky voice from somewhere above her made the ludicrous comment. “Do you always make it a habit to get thrown out of establishments such as this one?” He nodded toward the building. “Seems that more in line for a male who’s been misbehaving. You’re quite the contradiction.”

The man, whoever he was, grabbed her beneath her arms then heaved her to her feet. This hauling her to her feet was getting monotonous. To gain her balance she clutched his shoulders. He was dressed…in the strangest way. Dawn blinked a few times to adjust both to the brilliant sunlight as well as to the man. He was tall, very tall. His smile sort of a half-smile charmed her. The lips she stared at were sensuous. Wide. Kissable came to mind. His brown eyes twinkled with gold highlights. She heaved in a huge gulp of air that lodged in her throat then wouldn’t let go.

To gain her bearings, she had to look away. Dawn heard of this kind of sensation when faced with a man who could steel a woman’s heart without lifting a finger. She wasn’t going to be that woman who fell for the ploy. Before she made a fool of herself, she had to shift her gaze somewhere else. When she looked to the streets, carriages of all shapes and sizes trundled by. Her breath caught in her throat again. Shocked. Confused. She looked back to the tall stranger still holding her arms. Her hands on his chest. As if burned, she dropped them to her sides.

“Who are you?” The voice she heard didn’t sound like hers. Her words warbled out in a strange way. She needed to shake her head to clear the crazy thoughts darting through her muddled brain. Impossible thoughts. Humorous when she decided reality was the best way. Dawn didn’t think she was where she was supposed to be. She wasn’t about to ask what the date was. She either wandered onto a Hollywood set or she wasn’t in the twenty-first century any longer. There were no Hollywood sets in Glasgow. Was she in Glasgow? She didn’t believe there were. Anything was possible. Time travel wasn’t possible. It was fiction. A fantasy. This must be a dream. It had to be. She would wake up and everything would be as it should be. Before giving the man a chance to answer, she blurted, “Pinch me.”

“What?” he asked, looking befuddled by her statement. His hands were still wrapped around her upper arms. “Did I hear right? Don’t hurt women.”

Needing to redouble her efforts, she spoke with a clearer voice. “Pinch me,” Dawn said again realizing by the look in his eyes he wasn’t going to do her bidding. “Ah, hell!” She pinched herself. Felt the sharp pain. Damn, she wasn’t dreaming. Was wide awake and looking at carriages pulled by horses. Gaping at the most handsome man she’d seen in her entire life. He was eye candy. He was that good looking. Tall…dark…handsome. More than handsome or eye candy, he was fascinating.

“I don’t hurt women,” the man repeated as he watched her through curious golden eyes. His lips twitched as if he saw something that amused him. “Not ever going to pinch you. No matter how many times you ask.”

“A pinch is not much of a hurt,” she bit out, angry that he didn’t help her out with the dream experiment.

His barked laughter was followed by an extended hand. He stepped back. “Gordan Murray. Who are you? What were you doing in the brothel? You don’t look the type of lady who would take to whoring.” He grinned a wicked glint then with a lift to his broad shoulders, he continued, “What do I know? This is Miss Pearl’s Hall of Fun. Was it fun?” The twinkle in his eyes made his smile broader or too smug. She had yet to decide.

“Dawn Callahan. I didn’t know what the place was,” she told him while brushing the dust off her backside. Dawn was taken aback when she noticed him watching her, his golden gaze running down the length of her legs then back to stop at her breasts then her mouth. After that his avid appraisal went to her eyes. She tossed him a cheeky smile. Tilting her head to the side, egging him on, “Do you like what you see?” Her sarcasm couldn’t be missed; at least she hoped he heard the mockery in her voice. She’d never seen a man peruse her in such an easy manner and as thoroughly. He must think he was god’s gift to women to be so smug as well as that bold.

This man…this Gordan Murray, seemed to have let her tone go in one ear then out the other ignoring the sarcasm. He wasn’t answering. If she was going to be honest with herself, she didn’t expect the man to be truthful with her or authentic. He was far too male for her, challenging her with each comment and question.

His hands were clasped behind his back while he gave her body another tour. He seemed to be evaluating as well as looking. “Your clothing is unusual. Do you always flaunt yourself in such a manner? I’m surprised the bouncer kicked you out of the establishment. You might be a real prize. Bring top dollar. Are your skills in bed as unique as your clothing?” Gordan Murray asked with just as much ridicule to his words as she’d given him with her proposed question. To her surprise, Gordan tossed back as good as he was given.

Her chin tilted up. She wasn’t flaunting any part of herself. All of her was covered. Dawn didn’t show any bare skin except at her décolletage. The Yankee baseball cap she wore covered her head, her long pony tail peeking out the back opening. Deciding she would give him the same perusal as he gave her, she let her gaze linger along his long legs…long well-muscled legs up higher to his slim hips then the broad chest. His chin was square, his lips mocking while his nose was long and straight. When her gaze met his eyes, they were laughing at her. His full lips twitched as if he understood what she did.

“You’re quite daring for a wee bit of a lassie. Do you get into trouble often? Never had anyone study me before you. This is a first. Did you like what you saw?” Gordan repeated her question to him. With his arms crossed, he leaned against the cast iron railing she missed on her tumble to the walkway.

No one in her time called her small or wee as he just did. The devil, she was five foot ten. She wanted to hurl a second retort his ways. Thought better of doing so. In this uncertain moment, she decided on the better side of prudence. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t get the reaction she was after. Thinking about getting back to her lodgings, she couldn’t quite figure out how to do that. These few minutes bantering with Mr. Murry left her with the knowledge she wouldn’t be able to go anywhere on her own. Dawn was going to need the help of this man in order to get anywhere. She best not get herself on his bad side or she’d find herself stranded. She needed a lot of things including a meal in her belly as well as a roof over her head. If this was a different time, her B&B wouldn’t be there.

“Do you mind helping me out? I’m in a bit of a pickle,” Dawn asked, uncertain now.

“A pickle?” he queried while those bewitching lips twitched again. “How does one get herself into a pickle?”

“Yes.” She didn’t think the credit cards in her wallet would pay for anything in this century. Thinking fast was her only alternative. If Gordan helped her, she would owe him. She had nothing to repay him with. That thought stumped her for several seconds while she pondered alternatives. “I’ve no way to…” She lifted her shoulders with a feminine shrug she hoped he would notice as flirting. “I…” Damn, she’d never been in this situation before. Never been beholding to any one and never a man. She didn’t know how to ask for assistance. “I need to get to my bed and break…fa…st.” Damn, she didn’t think they had those in this time. What did she know? Dawn wiped her sweating palms on her leggings, searching for words.

“Are you asking me for a ride? Suppose I don’t have anything better to do. Where are you staying?”

“Don’t recall the address. I can give you directions,” she told him, wishing she’d taken her large bag with her that had almost everything in it she needed to survive for more than a few hours. This afternoon all she took was a small purse and wallet with ID. She never carried money. Not that American currency from the twenty-first century would work here.

The direction to her establishment contained a lengthy description of going down one long street then turning right then left. There were more turns until they ended up in front of a large house on what seemed to be a country street. The home sported a wraparound porch. Large windows stood on either side of a door. The color of the paint was different as was the oak tree standing sentinel in front of the building. Of course, the look would be different. She wasn’t certain this was the B&B she recalled. Nothing appeared the same.

“You were trying to tell me you didn’t work at Miss Pearl’s Hall of Fun? Is that right? Now you want me to believe you work here?” Gordan asked as he looked from the house to her then back again. “You’re an escort? For Miss Scarlet?”

Feeling as if he punched her in the stomach with the offhanded comment, she swallowed the lump of fear growing in her throat. “An escort?” she asked him, a blank feeling in her scrambled brain. What was this place? “No… What gave you that idea?” Dawn bristled wishing she could come up with some plausible reason for bringing him here. She should have known better. Her mind needed to be examined. It seemed she couldn’t think fast enough to stay one step ahead of herself.

Gordan lifted his large hand to point at the place they stopped in front of. “This is Miss Scarlett’s escort service. I do know some of the ladies. You aren’t one of them. Are you new here? Is this really where you work?”

Silence stretched thin between them. The cringe of horror she felt at the brothel grew quicker than the jets she wanted to see flying overhead. Her back stiffened while she retorted, “I’m not an escort. I don’t work here. Must have made a mistake. Never was good with directions.” This was where her B&B had been. At least she thought so. The century she was now in was a different one. She was guessing she was in the nineteenth century; pinpointing the exact date would have to wait until she could see a newspaper.

Think…

You’re witty. You can come up with a plausible excuse for sending him here. Something to counter your stupidity.

Dawn didn’t know what to do or say. Witty vanished with the confusion she felt. She wished she was still sitting on the floor in that upstairs room looking over the street and reading the tour pamphlets. Bottom line, if she thought about her future, she would have to do some fast talking as well as thinking. She was a survivor. Didn’t her grandma always tell her that? Yes, well she would have to figure out what she could do here. If it was employment she needed… No! She would never be an escort for any reason.

When she looked up it was into the questioning eyes of a man she met less than an hour ago. “Do you know where I can get a job?” Dawn blurted, unable to think of anything else to say as well as unwilling to ask Gordan for anything else.

His right eyebrow arched, heading toward the heavens. A smirk formed on sensuous lips that were far too ready to laugh at her question. Did he find everything amusing? When he quirked his head toward the house, her hackles rose. Inhaling a long deep breath of air, Dawn counted to ten to get the flare of anger under control now that she understood where his amusement was coming from.

“I’m not an escort,” she repeated for the man’s smirking benefit. “I’m not. I don’t do those things. I’m not that kind of woman. I’ve a degree. I’m educated.”

Gordan pushed the hat he was wearing off his brows. “Miss Scarlet might give you a job as a housekeeper or a cook. Not all the women who work there are escorts. You know that though, don’t you?”

“No.” While she didn’t mind getting her hands dirty as a housekeeper, she was educated. Was studying to be an anthropologist though she was just in a first year of graduate school. She could lecture at the university. She could… If this was the nineteenth century, no one would want to hear a lecture from a woman. A woman who was unknown to them even if she might have more knowledge than the head of the department. “No, I don’t.”

Dawn pushed a flyaway strand of dark hair from her face. She never cried. This situation was so overwhelming as well as confusing. Nonetheless, at this instant she found herself very close to tears. Moisture hovered just behind her eyelids as well as in the center of her throat. Dawn couldn’t bear to look at Gordan.

“Do you have any possessions, any family? Friends?” There was a lengthy pause, “Enemies?” Gordan asked as his voice softened. He must have seen the close proximity of tears in her eyes. Now he was feeling sorry for her. Dawn didn’t want pity.

“No…nothing.” Dawn turned away from him. She didn’t want him staring at her or questioning her. There were no answers she could give to any of his questions.

“You can come home with me. I’ll find something…” He cleared his throat reaching out to her then bringing his hand back.

“I won’t entertain you on my back!” Dawn yelled. She never yelled. Her body heaved with pain thinking that was all she could do in this era.

Waiving his hand in the air, “I never thought that you would!” He was yelling too. His gaze slid over her again then to the house. He looked across the street. “No, that won’t do either. Don’t have the key or permission to use the place though I ken no one would mind for one night.”

Dawn got down from the carriage, tripping on the step that was, she gathered, supposed to help her. Clinging to the side, she righted herself. Gordan swore beneath his breath. Dawn watched him as he leapt to the ground then strode to her. His hands were on her shoulders. A fleeting moment passed while she thought he was about to shake her just as the burly bouncer did.

“Bloody everlasting hell!” His hands dropped to his sides. “I’ve no idea what to do with you. The more time I spend with you the more apparent it becomes that you have nothing except the very peculiar clothing that you are wearing.” He paused in his verbal exchange while he paced a few steps away to turn around then come back to her. “Did you make up these directions?”

He was still yelling at her. Tears slipped out of her eyes, sliding down her cheeks. She tossed her chin in the air and started walking. It didn’t matter where she was going. Sometime in the next few hours she would figure something out. Dawn decided she didn’t need this man.

Before she knew what was happening, Gordan scooped her into his arms then headed back to the carriage. “You’re coming with me. I’m not taking any arguments from you as valid. I can’t leave you on the streets alone. You’ll get into too much trouble.”

“No…!”

Setting his finger against her lips. “Hush…together we’ll figure something out after we have a hot meal. I don’t intend to leave you to your own devices. My townhouse has enough rooms so you’ll be comfortable for the night.”

“I’m a grown woman. I can figure things out for myself. Don’t need a man to…” She was huffing when he set her back onto the seat of his vehicle. Didn’t like lying to this man who was trying to help.

“I can see that,” he told her as he set the horses on their way. “You do have something figured out. I want you.”

Dawn leaned back crossing her arms. He could see that, could he. He wants me. Of all the arrogant nerve? Gordan Murray didn’t have the right to make decisions for her. When her stomach growled and he laughed, she decided she’d allow him a few decisions since she was out of options. She was famished. Needed a roof over her head. Becoming homeless was no option.

While he drove his matched horses with expert precision, Dawn watched as the buildings swept past her. The sun was beginning to set on what started out to be the perfect day. All she had was the book that put her in this position of uncertainty. The brisk wind blowing against her was giving her chills since the sun’s heat no longer burned down from the skies. For the middle of July, the day had been hot. The evening would still be warm. Somehow, there was no warmth in her body. It seemed the danger of her predicament was settling in, her nerves vibrating with the knowledge. She was afraid.

I’m alone in a world I don’t understand and I’m ill-suited to live in. I’ve no money. No way to make a living. No roof over my head except the one this man is offering. What price will I need to pay?

When he turned down a long drive, Dawn thought this must lead to this huge townhouse of his. The drive had been quiet. She spent the time lost in her thoughts, thinking of her room in the B&B, remembering the people she left behind. One small impulse changed the rest of her life. Somehow, she would have to figure out how to get herself back into that brothel so she could go home. By walking into a bookstore in search of a musty old tomb, she lost everything that mattered to her.

Her girlfriend, Kimi, would wonder what happened to her. Kimi would call her cell. She wouldn’t answer. The police would be notified. In her time, she would become a missing person. They would never find her body. Being a graduate student in anthropology, Dawn would use this adventure as a learning experience. If she could get over the tears, she would. If she didn’t leave a few friends behind who would grieve, she would. There were more ifs. She didn’t want to think about anything. A blank mind would be something she could ignore.

I’m terrified.

“You’ve been quiet. What are you thinking about?” Gordan asked as he brought the two matched greys to a stop in front of a brownstone. A man from the stable ran out to greet them. He tossed the reins to him. “Give the horses a good rub down along with their feed and water. Won’t be needing them tonight.”

The man nodded.

Gordan didn’t give her a chance to answer before he spoke again. “Here we are. What do you think?”

What was she supposed to say? The lawn and surrounding garden were immaculate. The hedges were all trimmed. Flowers graced several beds. “It’s nice.” Was all she could think of. Gordan held her elbow after he helped her down, guiding her up the steps then inside. The hallway in the entrance was huge, the floors white marble. A stunning chandelier hung from the ceiling while a winding staircase led the way to the upper floors.

“Hannity!” he called out.

A tall thin man appeared. He bowed, looking surprised when he saw her. Hannity graced a furtive look at Gordan. “Good evening. Any plans for the night?” he asked as his gaze shifted to her.

The man was thin, whisps of gray hair at the sides of his black head of hair. His nose was long and thin. He was dressed in black except for the white shirt beneath the black coat. “I’d like you to show Miss Callahan to her room. Take one of the guest rooms at the end of the hall. She should be comfortable there.”

“Yes…are you going out later?” Hannity asked still seeming to have his attention drift her way. “Should I have Davis lay out something to wear?”

“No. I’m remaining home tonight. Miss Callahan and I have a great deal to talk over. Before dinner, I would like a bath, assuming there is plenty of hot water heating on the stove. If not, get some heated right away. Tell Fisher I will be dining with Miss Callahan.” He turned to her, his smile firm. “Would you like a bath?”

Dawn nodded wondering what they had to talk about that would keep him home this evening. “That would be heavenly. Yes…after you of course…or…is there a tub in my room?” She was afraid she’d been too brazen. The man wouldn’t allow her to use the one in the master chamber.

His smile wicked, Gordan turned back to Hannity. “Have water sent to her room. Don’t believe we’ll share my tub tonight, unless of course she insists.” Hannity remained straight faced as if it was normal for guests to share the bath. “There is a tub in the dressing room you can use.”

Back to Hannity, “See if you can find anything for her to wear? This is all she has.” He swept his hand up then down indicating what she was wearing. “It’s most unsuitable.”

“Where do you intend I look, Sir? By the way, you gave Fisher the night off. He won’t be back to work till the morning. Should I have your carriage readied?” he asked sounding perplexed as if this wasn’t a duty he expected.

“I’m fine.” Dawn smoothed her hands down her leggings feeling a slow burn of anger surface while the two men talked about her as if she wasn’t there to hear. “What would you possibly have here that I could wear?” she asked assuming this was a bachelor’s residence.

“Quite right, m’dear. You are very fine. Send Tommy to Duncan’s place. See if he can grab some clothing for her. Caro is the tallest of my sisters-in-law. Something might be long enough for Dawn.” Gordan gave her a careless once over.

Hannity nodded, “As you wish.”

Gordan held up his hand to stop him, “Never mind. They are out of the country. The place is going to be locked up tight. Go to Evan’s home. The clothing will be short. Nonetheless, Betsy’s gowns will have to do until I get her to a modiste. Tomorrow, we will see what can be done to clothe her more suitably. Though I do enjoy the britches as well as the…” He paused rubbing his chin, “You called it a tank top?”

Her hands fisted. Dawn bristled at the conversation between the two men. She didn’t like to be talked around as well as about. In a voice she hoped he would understand, she said, “I don’t need anything. Told you I would work for you. I’ll buy my own clothing, thank you.”

Hannity’s face turned a deep shade of scarlet. Chuckling, Gordan waved him off to do the chores. “I’ll show her to her room. You’ve enough to do.” Then to her. “Can you cook, sweetheart, because I cannot? If you have no talent in the kitchen, we might have to go out to eat. In that state of dishabille, I don’t think it would be wise to show you off. You will attract way too much attention from all the unsavory people…even the good men I suppose.” He scratched his head as if puzzled. “Don’t see how you can believe what you are wearing is fine.”

With grave caution she began to speak. He was taking the state of her clothing way too serious. Now, he wanted to know if she had talents in the kitchen. Her ability in that area of the home was far from proficient. Starving would never be a problem. She could cook a few things such as macaroni and cheese from a box, grilled cheese sandwiches. On her small barbecue she grilled steaks and burgers. He wouldn’t know what a burger was. Dawn figured he would enjoy one. Maybe they didn’t have ground beef in this century. “My culinary expertise is limited. If you’ve bread and cheese, I suppose I can come up with something edible. If not, we might have to eat something cold if you are that adverse to being seen in my company.”

“Good, good. Glad to hear you can cook,” he said with an absent air as he watched Hannity set about his business. “Come along.” Gordan started up the stairs as if she would follow without a thought.

Several seconds passed while Dawn could do little more than shake her head at the confusing scenario in front of her. Was she going to spend the evening and night in the home of a bachelor? In the century she came from, it wouldn’t make any difference if she spent a night, a week or if she moved in with him. No one would think less of her. In her case they wouldn’t even notice let alone think about what she did. Doing so would never turn a head or create gossip. She wasn’t going to sleep with him. Still…she was attracted to him. Never felt that way about another man. Gordan told her he wanted her. That was all. He didn’t act like he wanted her. The man tossed too much disdain her way. The criticism stung. He’d not touched her except to help her into the carriage as well as out.

As she started to follow, a newspaper caught her attention. Stopping at the small table she picked it up to find the date…July seventeenth, eighteen-thirty. Even though she understood she had traveled back in time, her heart stopped to beat for at least three seconds. Blood drained from her face. The universe heaved. The gasp of air she tried to suck into her lungs never made the grade. Blackness enveloped her. She tried to find relief.

Gordan turned on a heel. His look of concern startled her. His voice reverberated in her head. “What is it? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No, no, not a ghost. Worse than that.” The world spun with crazy speed. The floor rose to meet her. Dawn heard his voice then it, too, was gone.

Dawn bolted upright. Her body shuddered as her mind tried to comprehend what had happened. The nasty smelling stuff he was waving in front of her nose must be smelling salts. She never understood how they could work. They did. She would never question their use again. “What happened?” She blinked a few times while she took in the face staring at her, the brows that were drawn together coupled with the dark golden eyes. She had the crazy urge to run her finger along his brows.

“You fainted, m’dear. Care to tell me why?” Gordan’s hands on her shoulders, helped her to a sitting position. “Or is this something normal for you? Do you faint often? Since you’re not wearing a corset, the sudden faint does not make sense.”

“No…” she hedged, understanding he would think her outrageous if she told him the reason for her faint. This was her secret to keep. No one would believe her tale. They would think her mad and she’d end up in Bedlam. In this unique, no bizarre, situation, the secret was a necessity. She wouldn’t be telling another living person what made her faint. “No, my fainting is none of your business,” Dawn told him, her voice weak, her palms sweaty yet ice cold. She didn’t like the way the sounds coming from her lips wobbled. If she wished for him to believe her, she needed to confront the man with more conviction.

With a furious scowl marring his handsome features, Gordan handed her the glass of water Hannity must have brought while she was unconscious. “Believe what happens to you becomes my business when you faint for no apparent reason in my home. If you are sick, I’ll send for a physician. If it’s a ploy of some sort, you need to apprise me of what you are after. Last time I checked I could not read a woman’s mind.” His many words were filled with anger.

Dawn gulped a large amount of the water while she tried to come up with a plausible lie. She hated lying. When that happened, one had to remember every detail of the lie. She wasn’t good at that. “Truth is, I don’t know why I fainted.” To her chagrin he picked up the newspaper to stare at the news that was printed there.

“Liar,” he whispered. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to believe her. Gordan took a few seconds to read the front page before tossing the paper aside.

What would he do if she explained she lost consciousness because she saw today’s date. If she told him that, he would still wonder why. Why would the date cause her to faint? She could plead the loss of memory. Scrambling for a believable explanation, she said, “I haven’t eaten in a while. Maybe it was from lack of nourishment. A bit of food might help keep away the dizzies. I would feel better if I could put something in my stomach.” That excuse sounded good to her.

His grunt didn’t do much to ease her mind. “Go on up and get your bath. I’ll have Hannity bring you something to eat. There will be clothing on the bed when you finish. Evan and Betsy live a few houses down. When you’re ready, we can fix dinner. I’m certain there will be bread and cheese in the pantry.”

She didn’t think her cooking dinner was a great idea. Nonetheless, if she wished to eat, she would have to do the honors. Gordan showed her to her room, opening the door for her. They passed his room which he pointed out.

“Does this suit?” he asked as he stepped inside so she could see into the bed chamber. “If not, I can find another room. They all are much the same.”

Dawn didn’t know what she expected. The place was elegantly furnished in blues and gold. The carpet was plush. The curtains were a dark blue. A large window let in light that danced between the curtains. As she stood open mouthed, servants brought water for her bath. They were efficient. She would give him credit for that. Seeing the steaming water, she longed to sink into the heat. Needed to wash away all the fears from today along with the exhaustion threatening to dig into her bones.

“It’s beautiful. Of course, the room suits.” She breathed in the scent of flowers. There was a vase of roses on the bedside table. When she took a moment to think on it, there had been roses in every room she’d seen so far.

It seemed Gordan read her mind. With a very masculine lift to his shoulders, he told her, “My sister-in-law, Caroline, breeds roses. She grafts them. Analyzes them. Studies how they grow. Their characteristics. She is quite the gardener. Most of these lovely and unusual colors come from her gardens.”

“Oh,” Dawn plucked one of the roses from the vase. Closing her eyes, she ran her cheek across its velvet softness.

~ * ~

When Gordan saw her with the rose caressing her cheek, he wanted to feel the softness for himself. Gordan was mesmerized by this woman the first time he watched her waving her arms and stumbling down the steps in front of Miss Pearl’s establishment to land on her pert little backside. Everything about her was different, from the top of her head down to the strange shoes she wore. Dawn was unique in many ways. She also puzzled him. There was something unique about the way she looked at him along with the carriages and wagons on the road. When they reached Lety’s, he didn’t know what to think about her. All that came to mind was that he found her coming from a brothel then she led him to the infamous escort service.

What was he to believe?

Not that she was a prostitute or an escort. She wasn’t one of Scarlett’s ladies, he knew that for a fact. Several times a month he used the escort service. Not to have a woman in his bed but to have a date on his arm at some of the university functions he felt obligated to attend. Some of Scarlett’s women were gorgeous. Some escorted the gents who paid for a date only. There were also some a man could hire to grace his bed. What they did or did not do was up to the woman. The clause was part of the contract a man signed before the rendezvous.

“As you requested, here is a pastry and a glass of wine for the lady.” Hannity held a tray out for him to take. She wasn’t yet in the dressing room even though water was being toted in as they spoke. Gordan brought the tray to her. After she accepted one of the tarts, he set the tray on a nearby table.

“Thank you!” Dawn’s stomach grumbled when she bit into the berry tart. Her look of enjoyment sent a wave of delight through Gordan. He liked the little dimple at the corner of her mouth that deepened when she smiled. “Pastry and wine…how thoughtful. What more could a girl want?” She looked bemused as if she hadn’t expected to have her wish granted.

Hannity did a small bow then turned on his heel leaving the room. Hannity understood when to leave.

Watching her pleasure at the food surprised Gordan. The site in front of him took away some of the angry edge he’d been feeling since their accidental meeting. From his time with the lady, he was sexually frustrated. Didn’t want to treat her as a guest. He wanted her in his bed. Every moment with her etched the fact deeper into his head. Clearing his throat, he began, “There will be a gown and some underthings for you in your room when you finish with your bath. Come down as soon as you are dressed,” his voice was husky with the raw desire raging inside him whenever he looked at her. Her breasts were high, large as well as firm. He itched to see them, tastes them, feel the round softness in his hands. The legs she showed off went on forever. They were small, trim legs. Her butt was rounded the way he liked. As soon as he could finagle a kiss, he would see what she knew about kissing.

Dawn Callahan was an enigma to him. In many ways she seemed innocent. Her age was unknown. Nonetheless, her actions along with the confidence she bore until she didn’t, spoke of an older woman. She was no debutante. He was certain of that fact. She didn’t have that starry eyed innocent gaze that a seventeen-year-old just out of the classroom would have.

He felt a twinge of pleasure when he saw the powdered sugar on her lips. Thoughts of tasting then licking the sweetness from her swamped him. Yes, licking the sweetness from her mouth would be a delightful pastime. His pleasure as well as hers. He hoped. Gordan knew getting involved with this woman would be detrimental to his well-being to his status as bachelor. Despite that knowledge, Gordan still meant to do just that. This little lady would be a challenge. One he was up to exploring.

“Thank you again,” Dawn mumbled through a mouthful of food. She reached for the crystal glass holding the wine then downed a good portion.

“I’ll see you downstairs.” Gordan’s words were curt, to the point. Watching her any longer in her pleasures was out of the question. He swiveled on a heel then left before he did something foolish. His bed was just down the hall.

That was where he wanted to be.

With Dawn.

Despite the steaming water and the glass of wine Hannity set behind him within easy reach, Gordan was having a difficult time enjoying his bath in the huge heated tub he had installed in his bathroom. His agile mind danced with too many thoughts about Dawn sitting next to him partaking the bath with him. After seeing his brother Evan’s tub, Gordan knew he had to have one just like it. One that would fit two bodies, his and his latest girlfriend. Naked, he settled himself in the water, hoping to ease a few of the kinks he got this afternoon in the boxing ring. His brother Fletcher sparred with him. They both came away with bruised and sore muscles. Ah well, after a good long soak he would feel better.

Closing his eyes, he sipped the glass of wine. He wanted to think of someone other than the girl he found tumbling down the steps at the brothel. Dawn Callahan, she was a pretty little piece of femininity. Not so little but even with her height, she didn’t reach his chin. Except for the lush fullness of her breasts and the rounded fullness of her enticing bottom, she was thin as a rail. Of all his brothers he was the tallest. Duncan was the broadest. The other two were in between in stature.

Her black hair against pure white skin were a startling contrast along with the shimmer of her China blue eyes that had an exotic slant to them. The cap she wore was another eccentric thing about her. He’d never seen a hat such as that one. The article couldn’t be described as a bonnet. While her hair stuck out a hole in the back, curling whisps of her hair floated with delicate precision enhancing the line of her jaw and the tiny stubborn chin she would tilt in the air when ever he said something she believed was outrageous. Her nose was tipped up at the end.  Her lips lush, full. Opulent. They were ripe very kissable lips. With long dark sooty lashes when they fluttered against the whiteness of her cheeks, he caught his breath.

Gordan waited until the water turned tepid. When he had all the time in the world, he would reheat the bath water with the kettles that steamed on the stove behind him. He would soak until his skin wrinkled. Tonight, his plans, though not firm, he had other ideas than a long soak. Unless the lengthy soak involved his guest.

While he dressed, he heard her footsteps as she walked past his door. Gordan smiled. He finished with the last button on his shirt. The buckskins he wore and the loose shirt were casual. He wondered what Hannity found for Dawn to wear. Ah, but no matter who’s gown she wore, he would get a delightful view of her ankles. Maybe more if her breasts were as full as he thought them to be.

Instead of waiting for him in the kitchen as he asked, Gordan found Dawn sitting in the drawing room reading the newspaper. The one that caused her to faint. At this reading her face was no longer the color of death. She looked intrigued by whatever was printed. Her fingers rested on her shapely lips, tapping as if she was making up her mind about something. He let out a slow roll of air. She would refuse to explain herself to him.

Scratching his chin, Gordan tried to recall what he saw when he picked the paper up from the floor that might have caused her to swoon. More news about the July Revolution in France meant to overthrow the king? What else could be of interest to her?

“Anything noteworthy?” Gordan asked as he stepped behind her so he could read over her shoulder, his hands on the back of the chair, knuckles grazing the soft skin on the nape of her neck. What he saw when he looked down was the rounded white skin of her breasts pushing out from the décolletage of the borrowed dress she wore. The dress was a lovely blue. Matched the deep color of her eyes. A bit of white lace rimmed the top of the corsage. When she set the paper on her lap then turned to look at him, her lips were pressed into a thin line. The brows he’d like to trace with his fingertip furrowed together.

Something disturbed her. Discovering what that was would not be easy. He touched her neck with his thumb, felt the rapid beating of her pulse at the base, slid it the length. She wasn’t immune to his attentions. He decided he could use his rakish charm to bring her closer to him. Gordan wanted her trust then he wanted her. Needed to learn the deep secret she protected. Watching her keep her guard up, he knew he didn’t have either.

As Dawn smiled the small dimple deepened. She looked back to the paper. “Nothing. I was just reading the advice column. The guidance one reads doesn’t’ seem to change much over the years. Nor do the questions. Silly isn’t it to even look at the columns.”

That statement gave Gordan a moment’s pause. How many years had she been reading advice columns? “Suppose that could be true. That particular piece of frivolous news is written by my sister-in-law with the help of my brother. Duncan says he tells her his opinion to the questions. To hear him articulate the story, he tells her everything. Caro says she doesn’t listen to a thing he says since the words come from a man’s point of view.”

The little snort of derision startled him. He quizzed her with the look in eyes. She ignored the question. “A man’s point of view comes from one part of his body, his penis. Nothing more. That view can never be considered reliable. It’s given so the man can deceive the woman into believing he loves her when he just wants her body for his use wants to get into her pants.”

Gordan never expected a jaded comment such as that. Dawn astonished him on every level. What the devil caused her to be so world-weary? It spoke of knowledge. At her age, he figured she was no innocent coupled with the place where he found her. But this… “I beg your pardon?” he questioned. No matter how correct her words sounded, he wasn’t going to give her the credit. If his desires as well as purpose with this woman were to come to fruition, she needed to think otherwise. Her words hit too close to his thoughts. He was thinking with that part of his body. Yes, he wanted to get into her pants. What a unique way to describe his questing thoughts.

“Nothing.” She set the paper down as she stood shaking out the skirt that didn’t fall to the floor. “Shall we figure out what is in your fridge…your pantry? So we can eat?” she asked as she started to make her way from the parlor.

He was right about the trim ankles he was privy to seeing. Dawn didn’t wear shoes. Her feet were adorable. She painted the toenails a soft blue. Did women paint their toenails? Not to his knowledge. He’d never been with a woman with colored toenails before. With something akin to giving him a bit more sense, he hit his head with the heel of his hand. He would have to ask Caro or Betsy about toenail painting. They looked quite delightful. Delicious. Another place he would taste when the time was ripe. Even Gracie might have an answer for him about the toenail painting. Any one of the ladies might have an answer to the strange clothing Dawn wore. “Perhaps, I should bring the seamstress here.”

In what appeared to be a new huff, she turned on him. “I embarrass you? I could wear my leggings and tank top or do those clothes also bother you?” Dawn asked, an impish smile on her small face.

Everything about this woman bothered him, but not in the way she implied. Nothing about her caused him discomfiture. “M’dear, just don’t want you to become embarrassed when people stare at you. That’s all. The ladies in the dress shop will wonder why your bosom is popping from the dress as well as why there are no shoes on your feet. Do you have an answer? If so, I would like to be the first to know.”

When Dawn shook her head, her pony tail swayed behind her. She lifted her shoulders. “Nothing I can tell you.”

Thoughts of rearranging her pony tail so he could test the softness of her hair flitted in his brain. He should concentrate on eating. Didn’t want any more fainting spells. “So…” he tapped a finger on his chin. “You do have an answer but you refuse to enlighten me as to the details.” Gordan tried to nip the anger he felt before he lashed out at her. Where Dawn was concerned, he needed to understand everything about her before he could begin to worm his way into her thoughts.

The devil, she kept too many secrets for his peace of mind. Gordan didn’t appreciate guessing games. Truth coupled with honesty is what he sought in a relationship. That’s all this was. A woman’s wish to keep the man she was attracted to on tenterhooks. He hoped she was attracted to him. She was the most beautiful woman he could ever remember seeing. Her eyes were such a beautiful shade of blue they stole his breath. Cornflower blue or were they cerulean? He’d best decide.

“Did you want to cook something?” Dawn turned to look at him. “Or…would you like cold food? Either way I don’t care.”

His gaze drifted to her ankles then higher to see the calf muscles she exposed. When she caught the direction of his staring, she tilted her chin, her tiny nose moving upward. Her lips twitched as if she had something to say then thought better.

“Fetching,” he said trying to conceal his true feelings about the exposure of her legs. One moment he thought she must be a prostitute, the next her fabulous blushes made her appear the innocent. As he watched her and debated about her character, he didn’t know which woman he hoped she was.

The face Dawn sent at him gave rise to a bark of laughter on his part. Despite the secrets she harbored, Dawn was a delightful little piece of baggage. One he was going to get to know better. Despite all his burgeoning feelings for this woman, he understood he should have found the key to Caro’s home across from the escort service then left Dawn there. His emotions would have been safer. He could have done some research into who she was. If he discovered anything worthy of consideration, it would be easier to forge a plan. If there was a bit of distance between them, detailed plan making would become less complicated.

He had to remind himself she wasn’t flaunting herself. Dawn was stuck with the one gown he had to offer. She expressed the fact numerous times she wanted to wear her own clothing. He didn’t give her a choice. When she was in her bath, Hannity took the pieces she’d worn. They were being cleaned, he told her. He didn’t intend to give them back. Wasn’t ready to toss them out either.

“Where are your clothes? Your real ones? The ones that should fit you. Not those bizarre pieces I found you wearing. Every woman keeps a trunkful of clothing at her disposal. Don’t see any reason to believe you are different,” he blurted the words from frustration seeing her brows draw together. He condemned the clothing even while he appreciated the way she looked as she wore them.

“Haven’t we been over this before? One more time won’t give you an answer. Not one you wish to hear.” She started walking in the wrong direction. “I don’t have anything except for the leggings, tank top and underwear I wore when you found me. You told me they were being washed. I would like everything that is mine returned. I demand they all be returned!”

He grunted. Didn’t believe her for one moment. There was something in the paper that affected her. “The kitchen is the other way. Follow me.” For the next few hours, he meant to give up on the interrogation. If she was going to tell him anything about herself, it wasn’t going to be tonight. Didn’t know if he had the patience to let this ride though.

Once in the desired room, Gordan pulled out a chair to sit down. Thought better of it. He rummaged through the shelves of wine to find the one he wanted. Opening the bottle, he poured glasses for both of them. If he gave her a bit of wine, her tongue might loosen a mite. He wasn’t proud of the ploy. Deemed his actions necessary if he was going to help her out of this predicament she seemed to have gotten herself into. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that Dawn needed help. If anything she told him was true, she was alone. Her family nonexistent.

She held the pan she found against her chest. Clearing her throat, she began, “Can we call a truce? I’d like to enjoy the meal I’m fixing even if you’d rather continue to stir up the nest of hornets that seem to have stung you.” The smile she bestowed on him was sweet. After that she tossed him a saucy look. “As I’ve pointed out before, what you wish to know is not your business. I’m not going to be forthcoming now or later even if you feed me an entire bottle of wine.”

Gordan saw a golden opportunity. His grin caught her attention. She was shaking her head as if to deny his question. He wasn’t going to let this chance go. Since he first saw her this afternoon, he’d been hoping for an opportunity to kiss her, needed to see if she tasted as good as she looked. Leaning against the counter, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his ankles crossed, he grinned, “Kiss for a truce. Your choice.” He stepped close to her, watching the hesitation in her eyes. They darkened; he was certain with desire. She wanted that kiss as much as he did. Let her deny that fact. He knew women. There was no mistaking the spark in her eyes. The way they changed color at his suggestion. The desire simmering just below the surface.

“I’m not bargaining with you. Suppose you are always used to getting your way in things. Not this time. I don’t give kisses to arrogant mama’s boys who think because they are so handsome every woman will fall at their feet because they believe they deserve one.” In the short span of those few sentences, she distanced herself from him.

Gritting his teeth, he conceded this round. Though he liked the fact she said he was handsome. Didn’t like the mama’s boy part. He wasn’t. “As it pleases you. By the way, I’m not arrogant nor do I believe as you said that women will fall at my feet when I crook my little finger. So…since you are not in favor of a truce, we’ll precede with the questions.” He paused thinking about the kiss. “You can change your mind at any time. Why did you faint when you looked at the newspaper this afternoon?” Gordan decided he wasn’t going to let up. He meant to pressure her until he got the kiss or she told him at least one truth. So far, he was flying blind. Unless she was a member of the French aristocracy, there was nothing on that front page that should have shocked her into a faint.

Ignoring his threat, Dawn turned from him in order to search the cupboards for something. Her little rump was in the air, her skirts swaying as she pulled things out then put them back. He caught a wonderful view of more of her legs. They were nice legs. Firm, he could tell as he saw part of her thigh. She didn’t seem to care if he saw her exposed limbs. She wasn’t making any effort to tug her gown down.

The view was fascinating. By the end of the evening, he would have one kiss. “Not talking? Well, how about your clothing? Were those pants something new from France? I’ve spent time at the modistes. I’ve never seen anything to rival what you had on in the fashion plates. What did you say the pants were called? Leggings… Yes, makes some sense. They did cover your legs, molded to them like a second skin. Left nothing to my imagination. The top was a tank top? Hmm…that one doesn’t have the same appeal.”

The pan she pulled out was flat. When she turned to look at him, her lips were thinned. “Cheese?”

She was changing the subject. A good tactical maneuver. He would get the topic back where he wanted it when he chose. “What are you making?” He wasn’t certain if his stomach would like the food. He was willing to try though as long as he could watch her. What could go wrong with cheese, bread and wine? Nothing.

“A surprise.” She finished her wine. Held her glass out for another splatter of the red stuff. “Make it generous. You’re giving me a headache with your never-ending questions. You know I’m not going to say anything. Can’t you just accept that fact? If you continue on this tract, we might need two bottles.”

No, not where she was concerned. Two bottles would suit just fine.

“What if I tell you I don’t like surprises? Want to know what’s going to fill my belly.” He asked as she set the pan on the burner of the stove.

“Too bad. Your contribution to this meal is to light the stove. If you don’t like what I make, don’t eat. After that you can point me in the direction of the cheese along with the butter.” Dawn paused a moment the tip of her finger on her pert chin. “Do you have pickles. I like pickles with my sandwiches.”

“What I see is that you like to change the subject. It’s a characteristic in a woman I abhor.” In this present situation, he disliked it more than anything. She was keeping him from learning about her.

“Too bad.”

He gripped his hands then tried to relax. It seemed Dawn had an answer to everything. It was up to him to change her mind. Didn’t know how to go about that task. “You can confide in me. You do understand I will help you in any way you need.”

“Help me into your bed?” she shot back. Her voice softened. “Not going to happen.”

“Yes, that too. I told you from the beginning I want you. Is that so bad? I am honest. Haven’t lied to you about my intentions.” Perhaps she would give him a clue about herself.

“No, I just need to find the delicious food so I can cook you the same kind of meal…delicious.” He heard the sarcasm in her voice. Recognized that he wasn’t getting anywhere with her. Wished she agreed to the kiss for a truce. Gordan didn’t suspect that was going to happen anytime soon. Finding a different way to steal that kiss might be advantageous. Seducing her might not be too hard even though she had a full array of defenses in her arsenal. He doubted if she’d used even half.

“You’re not going to talk to me, are you? I’ll talk to you instead. I’ll tell you what I think.” He found the items she wanted. Watched as she managed to toast the bread and cheese on the pan she pulled out.

“I am talking,” she pointed out then went about ignoring him again. “Plates? Do you have anything we can put with this. Any veggies?” She slipped the sandwiches onto the plates bringing them to the table. “Love some tater tots, Cajun,” she told him, her grin no less than wicked. If he didn’t know better, she egged him on with that bit.

Gordan wasn’t going to humor her by asking about tater tots or vegies. One, he could figure out, the other he’d be damned if he asked. His nerves stretched far too thin with the other more important questions that needed an answer. “There are plums in the bowl, cherries too. No vegies.” He figured she meant a shortened version of vegetables. Dawn was probably Irish. They always talked funny. Maybe she was from Wales. What did he know about that part of the island? No one in Glasgow would talk that way. Maybe she came from the highlands, way up north.

Before she handed him the plate with the sandwich, she cut it in half then plopped a plum on each one. “Eat up.”

He never answered her about pickles. “The pickles are over there.” He nodded toward a shelf where there were several jars. She took one down then set a pickle on each plate.

“There’s the vegie. Singular,” she told him. “Fiber, it’s good for the digestion. Even though the cuke is pickled. What has you looking so sour? Is the fact…” Dawn shook her head as if she decided she would leave that particular statement in her head.

After Dawn bit into her sandwich, she waggled her eyebrows at him. “You do know you gave up too easily. I might have confided something for a kiss. Now that I’m eating, I’ve got more strength to resist your devilish charms.”

Gordan felt an instant jolt of pleasure at her suggestion. “I’m not one to force myself on a woman. Have some more wine.” He leaned forward, his forearms on the table. His gaze resting on her hands then her mouth. She sent her tongue across her lips. The enticement obvious. “Tell me something if you want a kiss. I’d take anything as enough for…” He thought he might have the upper hand. Dawn didn’t appear reluctant as far as kissing went. Just a bit standoffish about the interrogation. He would give her a bit of time to think the situation over. “More wine?” This would be her third glass. Who was counting? He certainly was. A bit tipsy would be nice. Getting her drunk was not a good way to get the willing kiss along with a bit more that he was after.

“I know what you are doing.” She pointed her finger at him, moving it back and forth. “I’ve been with men who wanted a woman smashed so they could get what they wanted. I’m telling you now, that particular ploy won’t work with me. I know how much I can drink.” Even though she spoke the words, she accepted the third glass of wine. This woman could drink him under the table if she tried. Maybe not. She wasn’t big enough.

The idea of her being with enough men to understand his ruse brought jealousy creeping into his head. He wasn’t the jealous sort. Never had been before this instant. He had his mistresses. Loved women, all women. When he had his fill, he left never looking back. He would do the same with Dawn when she no longer fascinated him.

“You’ve been with men?” His query startled him. He didn’t want to think about her being with another man. The image of her long legs wrapped around the flanks of a man other than his sent fury rushing though him. Rage took over his mind. “Did you let them kiss you?” The words came out harsh even though the real question was if she let the man or men make love to her.

“I’m not a player,” she sounded every bit as angry as he felt. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

Her gasp coupled with the confusion in her eyes didn’t give him any indication of what her answer might be. She sipped in a small amount of air before setting her glass on the table. “If it would make me feel better, I’d toss the wine in your face at your lewd suggestion. As it stands now, the loss would be the waste of good wine.” She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table. He could see the valley between her breast. It didn’t seem she realized how much of herself she was showing him. “If that knowledge was your business, I would tell you. Thought we were having a good conversation. There are things I will never give you an explanation for.”

“You owe me.”

“Not what you are asking!”

He disagreed. Unable to stop the ensuing grin, he downed the liquid in his glass before pouring another then topping off hers. “If you tossed wine in my face, I’d have to retaliate. Who do you think would win?” He would like to dribble wine on certain parts of her. That would be a quest for another time.

When she looked away, Gordan was certain it was to hide a smile. His little Dawn wasn’t averse to him. She centered her gaze on him as if she imagined what he was thinking. “I’ve been kissed once or twice,” she admitted seeming reluctant to say the words. “Nothing else as if that was yours to know.”

Hearing her words of innocence, his body jerked with fierce relief. He’d not expected a woman of her age…whatever age that was…to be innocent. “Appreciate the answer before the question could be asked. Would have gotten around to asking before we make love. A man needs to ken how gentle he needs to be.”

Her scarlet flushed face pleased him. This was the first time she told him something he wanted to know. Was able to do it without too many words.

“Be aware, you’re not getting me into your bed. I’m not an easy conquest. You can’t snap your fingers then expect me to comply to your wishes.” Dawn pushed away from the table, wine in hand before walking to the back door to look out onto the garden. Her body was a delight to him in too many ways to count. He recalled the delightful curves he’d seen when she tumbled down the flight of steps a few hours ago.

Gordan didn’t want easy. What he needed was a woman who wouldn’t bore him to tears. He’d had too many women who fit that category. All kinds of women sought his bed because of his wealth coupled with his looks. He was tired of women who saw him as a meal ticket, nothing else. He was thankful he didn’t have the title. Duncan did. He was so far down the line of succession, there would be no mistaking the fact that he would never be a lord of the realm. He was pleased with his status. Didn’t need the complications that came with a title. “We shall see. I’m a patient man. Don’t want a woman who would lead me by my nose to my bed or hers.” He walked up behind her. Took the glass from her hand then set it on the counter. “Was that a yes to the kiss I’ve been asking for?”

His hand settled on her neck, his thumb rubbing, exploring the silken flesh beneath his fingers. With one fingertip, he trailed his finger along her shoulder until it met fabric. Gordan brushed a soft kiss to her nape before he pulled out the band that was holding her hair. The strands fell in silken waves across her shoulders. He knew her hair was long. Never believed the strands would tumble to her waist. It was so soft, cool to the touch, thick with waves. If he could wrap himself up in her hair, he would be a happy man. He let the long strands sift between his sensitive fingers.

Soon. Patience, man.

“Beautiful.” He turned her. Dawn’s back was pressed against the door. His hands were on her waist. He was watching her lips, her tongue, her teeth when they worried her bottom lip. “Do you want that kiss, lass?” He looked into eyes that turned a darker shade of blue. Light from a lantern picked up hints of violet. They shimmered in preparation for what he intended. She moistened her lips. He knew she wanted him. Would not refuse. The question was whether or not he would make her wait.

“No…you shouldn’t. No kisses. Don’t know you well enough for that. I don’t kiss on the first date. This isn’t a date.” Her hands rested on his chest then moved higher to circle his neck. Her fingers wound into his hair, nails scraping his scalp. “There is always a first time.”

“Why not? Think I know you well enough for one kiss. Date or not? First or not?” Gordan asked while he brushed his lips across hers, nibbled and hoped she would open for him.

“I’m…I’m not staying. I’ll be gone as soon as…” She was speaking, talking while he wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside her warmth. His body hummed with need. Pulsed. Her heat penetrated all his defenses, not that he needed to defend himself against this woman. She was so close. Her length was pressed tight against the length of his body. He liked the way she felt nestled against him, her breasts pushing on his chest, begging to be relieved of the fabric confining them. He touched her mouth with his, nudged her lips with his tongue. Tasted her, tasted the sweet wine. Tasted the essence of the woman. Caught her scent.

“Gordan! Gordan, where are you hiding yourself and the woman. Heard you had a lady friend here…oh!” Betsy stopped. Gracie plowed into Betsy. “What are you doing?” Betsy’s question was ridiculous.

Beneath his breath Gordan cursed. What the devil were his sisters-in-law doing at his home? What did it look like he was doing? When they saw, the two of them, the pair should have turned then on their little tip-toes and exited the room so they wouldn’t disturb him.

“Your other women?” Dawn asked with unhidden sarcasm as she tried to move away from him.

He held onto her. Pressed his hips against hers. This time he wasn’t about to answer her question. For the minutes it would take to get his sisters-in-law out of his home, she would have to wonder who they were. He didn’t want to spend more time away from Dawn than what was necessary to make them leave. “Betsy, Gracie, what are you doing here?”

“Needed to see how my dress fit,” Betsy said trying to get a good look at the woman he was holding way too close. When she saw the woman, she tried to hold back the snort of laughter. “Not too well. She’s tall and…”

“Now that you’ve seen, why don’t you take yourselves back home? I’m certain Evan is missing you.” This wasn’t part of the plan. He wanted privacy. Wished to finish this kiss the proper way then move on to a second. “Good God, is he on his way here too? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Wine?” Betsy giggled then asked Gracie while she reached for two more glasses not waiting for the answer. “Yes, busy but…?”

Dawn laughed. The dimple grew. He told her he was a patient man. Supposed it was now time for some of that patience to show up. He could tell by the mulish expression on their faces, the women weren’t leaving any time soon. Though he did manage to discover that his little Dawn melted in his arms. She was just what he needed for the next few weeks. Nothing about her bored him.

“As long as you’re here, help yourselves to some wine. I’ll open another bottle. I’m certain you’ve questions. I’m just as certain no one will answer them.” Let them try and pull information from Dawn. He could sit back, listen then enjoy if anything pertinent was disclosed. He could use this time to evaluate his plans. See if they needed changing. There would be time for more kisses. Patience.

“I will,” Betsy said then filled up Dawn’s glass. That would be her fourth plus the times he’d topped off the glass. “Thank you for the invitation. As to our respective husbands they are working today. Finishing up a contract that has to be signed first thing in the morning. Why aren’t you there?”

“What are you eating?” Gracie asked eyeing the plates of half-eaten food on the kitchen table. “See the two of you got side tracked. How was it?”

How was what? The kiss or the food.

~ * ~

Betsy never thought she would see the indomitable Gordan Murray blush. After she asked what he was doing, his cheeks turned a dark red. This event was worth remembering. He was always so in control of himself. She knew there were questions about this woman in his arms that needed answering. The two of them were without a doubt sharing a kiss. His hands were roaming. He had his knee pressed between her legs. The woman had this dazed look about her as if she didn’t understand what had been happening to her. It was obvious to anyone who could see, she was smitten with Gordan. Who wouldn’t be. Of all the Murray brothers Gordan was the best looking. His indomitable good looks attracted women as if he was a magnet. Not that the other Murrays suffered in that department.

“If you like, I can make you one. It’s called a grilled cheese sandwich. One of my specialties,” the woman said stepping away from Gordan toward the stove. Her steps wobbling, she was having trouble walking after that kiss. She turned to look at Gordan who was staring bemused at her. “He will have to turn the dang thing on for me again.” She lifted her shoulders. “Don’t know how to do that. Turn on a modern stove.”

Betsy was wondering what went on preceding that kiss. Gordan was leaning against the door watching as if he was just a casual observer in this little play they were acting. “No, we’ve both eaten. Thank you anyway.” Betsy held her hand out, “I’m Betsy and this is Gracie. He should have introduced us the minute he saw us here. Must have forgotten his manners.” Betsy shot Gordan a look that should send him to his knees. Gordan flashed a wide smile. “You borrowed my dress. Thought I would find out the circumstances as well as if you’ll be needing more things. I didn’t send underwear.”

Dawn blushed a deep red. That was intriguing. She must have needed underwear too. If that was the case, she wore nothing beneath the dress. If that was the case, did Gordan know? If he didn’t before, he did now.

“The modiste is coming here tomorrow for fittings,” Gordan told them, waving his hand in the air to dismiss her. “No, the two of you are not welcome right now or at the fittings. I plan on selecting the proper garments for Dawn. The two of you can turn around and go home. I ken that you are both meddling in my private life again.”

“I told you no!” Dawn shouted at him, her hands on her hips her eyes flashing sparks. Up until now, Betsy noted that she’d been trying to ignore the conversation between them. Too fascinating, to ignore. Dawn yelled again. “You are not buying me clothes!” Turning to Betsy, “I don’t need underthings. I’ve my own, thank you. When Gordan gives them back to me. Don’t take charity. Don’t need anyone to pick out my clothes for me. I’m not a child.” Her bosom was heaving. When Betsy shot a look at Gordan, he was staring at breasts that were about to pop from the gown.

This was an interesting scenario. Dawn’s sudden anger surprised as well as pleased Betsy. She hoped something would come of this budding relationship. Gordan found an interesting woman. She didn’t think he would get this one in his bed any time soon. Betsy stuck out her hand. “Let’s start over. I’m Betsy, this is Gracie and you are?” Betsy needed to change the topic of conversation before it reached a more explosive level. She knew Gordan would try to keep his anger in check because of their presence. It was clear this little argument was between the two of them over something unusual. She wondered if the woman was anywhere near as stubborn as her brother-in-law. If she wasn’t, she didn’t stand a chance in the upcoming battle of wills. It would be interesting to see how this little story played out.

“Dawn Callahan and I’m assuming you are two of the sisters-in-law this arrogant…” Dawn looked to Gordan then back to Betsy. She didn’t finish her thoughts.

“Yes, all our men are arrogant to a fault but the men are all well-meaning. Sweet to a fault. We do love them all despite their numerous flaws. Why do you have nothing to wear?” Betsy asked thinking again this was a strange situation. “Why are you in Gordan’s bachelor home? This will ruin your reputation if the information gets out.” She looked to Gracie. “We won’t tell anyone. You can count on that.”

For a second time in as many minutes, Dawn turned scarlet. With a small lift of her shoulders, she went on to say. “I just don’t. Don’t have any other answer for you. Nothing you’d believe. He took away my leggings and…tank…” She downed half the wine in her glass as she turned away as if to hide the mounting heat coloring her cheeks. Betsy wished she could see into this beautiful lady’s mind. She was hiding something. That fact was clear. It was also obvious Gordan didn’t know anything more than they did.

“So, you’ve come to meet the woman and, in the process, interrogate her as to why she is staying with me. She won’t tell you a thing. Thought I would get some information too. She tells me it’s not my affair. You know as much as I do. What I do know is that she has nowhere to go. No one save me to count on. I found her. Now, with that wealth of information the two of you can leave.” Gordan didn’t seem to want to extend their time here. “I would appreciate a hasty withdrawal. Dawn and I would like a wee dram of privacy if you don’t mind.”

Betsy wasn’t ready to leave. There were questions she needed to ask before she could abandon this woman to the seduction Gordan planned. “I’m not leaving until I understand if Dawn wants to be here. She can come home with me. She can look through my closet to see if something might fit her better than this gown which…it is clear to anyone with eyes it does not fit. We have multiple beds in multiple rooms. You aren’t expecting to sleep with her? Are you?”

“This from you, dear sister-in-law?” He then turned to Gracie who was blushing. “Or you, Gracie. Seems neither of you can claim innocence upon your first meeting of your respective husbands. You all shared beds before the nuptials. What Dawn and I intend is between us. Not my sisters-in-law. Whether we share a bed or not is not information the two of you need.”

“Are you telling us you plan to marry this girl?” Gracie bit out, her tone challenging him for an answer.

“That question goes beyond the pale. As Dawn seems to say far too often, it is none of your affair. Neither of your husbands had any intention of wedding either of you when they first brought you to their bed. Am I right?”

With ease, Gordan turned the tables. Betsy flushed as she recalled those first weeks with Evan. She’d wanted to be compromised. Had gone after him for just that purpose. Who could know if Dawn had some reason to seek out Gordan. She didn’t know. She looked at Gracie who was also blushing, turning a deeper shade with each passing second, she understood they should leave.

“Don’t go,” Dawn reached out a hand as if to stop her. “I appreciate the company and I thank you for offering your place for me to stay. Don’t worry about me. I’m not going to fall into this man’s bed because he crooks his little finger. I do have a few principles.”

“You can’t know that,” Gordan gave her a bland tone while his quirk of amusement couldn’t be missed by Betsy. “I can be every bit as persuasive as my brothers. In fact…I’m better. Have more experience.”

Dawn scowled.

Gordan grinned.

Betsy was still loathe to leave Dawn in the man’s home until she learned more. “Another glass of wine would be nice. We should retire to the drawing room for more titillating conversation.”

“If you ladies are wishing to visit, I’ll have a brandy in my office. By all means take the bottle. Open another one. Make yourselves at home. As I know you will.”