Chapter One

September 1826

Glasgow Scotland

Flynt MacTavish dismounted, handing the reins to the stable hand. He’d just spent the last few hours bored to tears with the beautiful Melessand. When he asked her to go riding with him, he never believed the time spent would be gossiping about the latest fashion and just how beautiful she was.

He looked at the dark sky. Riding home this late had not been prudent, but he needed to expend some energy and weigh the pros and cons of the lovely Melessand while he considered spending the rest of his life with her. Bloody hell, why did he suddenly decide he needed an heir. His sister Bliss with his best friend, Broc, had two boys and Chelsea, another sister and her husband, Cam, had a son. Two of the bad boys had met their demise at the hands of his sisters. So why did he want to follow them to his death? This courting thing was taking its toll on him.

A crisp breeze hit Flynt in the face when he strode outside the stable; a breath of fresh air, a much-needed one. Autumn was upon them. Leaves cluttered the ground, making swishing noises as he walked through them. A full moon appeared in the almost cloudless sky. He could be riding to see his mistress instead of going home to an empty bed.

For a moment, he thought about Beatrice, his second choice for a wife and to be the mother of his heir. She didn’t prove much more interesting than Melessand. At least she didn’t spend hour upon hour expecting compliments, but she had very little to say if anything. While he enjoyed silence at times, with Beatrice the silence was absolute and overpowering as well.

He sighed heavily, wondering why this had to be so complicated and uninspiring. Just a year ago he had no intentions of marrying anytime soon, enjoying his life at the fullest. His friends, the bad boys, started dropping like flies, to his sisters no less and they seemed to be in marital bliss.

Ah, he thought about Hope. Hope came to him quite unexpectedly. The sister of one of his friends, one of the bad boys, she was fragile yet beautiful and unassuming. Her memory of her past life was nearly nonexistent. Much of what she seemed to know was instinct, not memory. Hope was unlike any woman he’d ever known. Her friendship was priceless and he’d do most anything to keep it, including staying away from her.

As he strode up the front porch steps, he noticed a light shining in the parlor. Hope must still be up. He would enjoy talking to her while having a nightcap as he wondered if she’d waited up for him. Conversation with Hope always proved delightful, sometimes so spontaneous her words could leave him roaring with laughter or stealing his breath. She never failed to surprise him.

“Hello,” he said as he stepped into the parlor after leaving his jacket and hat by the front door. “You’re up late.”

She sat up, pushing a few strands of flyaway red hair from her eyes. “Hello, I must have fallen asleep. And no, I didn’t wait up for you. I was reading and the time got away from me.” She showed him the book.

Her clothes were wrinkled and out of place while her face was slightly flushed. He thought she’d never looked more perfect, beautiful. In the light of the candle he could see a spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. He was, he thought, bored with perfection. The Melessands of the world be damned.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.” He grinned, striding to the sideboard and pouring himself a brandy.

He turned to speak to Hope, holding up a glass, “Would you like anything?”

She made an attempt to smooth her gown into place and rearrange her luscious red hair, pushing back the delightful tendrils that had come lose from the matronly chignon she wore. “Whatever you’re having, I suppose.”

“Did you wait up for me?” he finally asked again, curious as he brought her a full glass before sitting down beside her. “I know you said you didn’t, but I’m not sure I believe you.”

“I guess I did. I’ve something to tell you. Talk about.” She looked at the brandy, swirling it around.

“You’ve piqued my interest.” He watched her closely, picking up her hand in his as he smoothed a thumb across her wrist, delighted by the tiny shiver in response. “What is it you want to tell me?”

“How was your outing today with Miss Melessand? I do hope it was an enjoyable adventure.” She avoided his question, which spurred his curiosity even more.

“So, it’s to be this way, is it?” He laughed, appreciating her antics even though she appeared to be serious. “Take your time. I’m not in a hurry tonight. In fact, I’m wide awake and will relish some time spent in the company of an intelligent woman.”

“Melessand is very beautiful, arguably the most beautiful woman in this part of Scotland.” She smiled sweetly at him. “I’m intelligent. Thank you. I suppose those are words that should make a woman pleased.”

Truly he thought Hope to be more beautiful, not in the classic way of great beauties but inside and out. “To hear the lady tell it, she is the most beautiful in all of Scotland and England, perhaps the world.”

“That lovely?” She sipped, grimacing slightly when with the heat of the liquor as she swallowed.

He roared with laughter. “Her face, yes. Nothing else that comes to mind, however.”

“Are you going to marry her?” she asked bluntly.

Rubbing his chin, he thought for a few seconds. “Not any time soon, if ever.” No, he was never going to tie the knot with that woman. His life would be over as soon as he said the words, I do.

“You do need an heir,” she reminded him. “I suppose you should think more seriously about that. Is Beatrice a better choice for you? She isn’t as sweetly, sickening beautiful, but she is adequate. I suppose she would do in a pinch.”

Do in a pinch, that was hardly good enough. He didn’t want a life mate who would work in a pinch. “Yes, but I’ve just begun to look.”

He scrubbed his hands through his hair, frustrated, irritated as well as thoroughly annoyed with this process. Instead of courting, he could spend his time in a more productive manner. Anything would be more fruitful. A lifetime with either of these two ladies, he realized, was not tenable.

“Neither Melessand or Beatrice will do for you?” She plucked at her skirts, not meeting his gaze. “I wonder why you’re being so picky?”

He rose, agitated, pacing. “I don’t have any other possibilities.” Certainly not the sister of his best friend even though said friend seduced his sister and finally married her just before she gave birth to his twins.

“There are no other women who appeal to you?” Her head tilted slightly as if contemplating what she said.

“Not in these parts,” he told her, understanding the lie even as he spoke the words.

When he turned his attention back to her, the look in Hope’s eyes was sad. “That’s too bad. Perhaps you should try your luck in Edinburgh. I’ve heard the women there are bonny lasses.”

“Enough about me and my prospects. What about you? Do you have possibilities?”

He was suddenly concerned some of this strange conversation with her revolved around her, realizing the last thing he wanted was for her to see someone.

“You don’t have to limit yourself to those two women.” She smiled, setting her finished brandy glass on an end table.

He shouldn’t let her put this off much longer, but at the moment he was enjoying the conversation. “They are both twits.” Needing something to do, he picked up her empty glass. “More?”

He lifted an eyebrow studying her but didn’t wait. He strode to the sidebar and the bottle of brandy.

She didn’t answer, just nodded a wistful look now on her face. Then, “Please. I suppose another glass or two wouldn’t hurt.”

“Perhaps I will take a trip to Edinburgh for just that purpose. You could come with me. I’ve heard the earl of Sanford is planning a ball. There will be debutants there and gentleman as well searching for a woman to wed. Maybe one of those new young ladies will be more palatable to me.” He handed her the refilled glass. “What do you think? Would you like to travel with me?”

She lifted her shoulders in a delicate move he appreciated. “You will do what you want, I believe. And no, the gossip would never end if I visited Edinburgh with you.”

He laughed again. “You know me well. Yes, I do believe I should consider the ball in Edinburgh. Nothing better for me to do than to put myself at the scrutiny of young debutants searching for a husband. I’ve been bored these last few months and the trip might prove interesting. Would be more interesting with you as my guest though.”

“When you put it that way,” she spoke softly, tilting her head to one side. “I wonder what a man like you must go through to find that perfect woman to fill his life and give him an heir. Seems a bit beastly to me.”

“No more beastly than a woman searching for a husband of wealth who can give her baubles and gowns, as many as she wants.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I would have to be careful with her pin money, wouldn’t I? A woman who wanted nothing more than what I could give her would be worse than if I was a wastrel.”

“Would you be heavy handed?” she queried. “Knowing you, if you loved her you would most likely give her anything she asked for.”

“Within reason. Love…” He paused a moment in thought, “Don’t know what that is. I do believe it’s a feeling, some emotion that would make a man weak and vulnerable. Don’t like those thoughts at all.”

“What is it? Your perfect manly self would never be weak,” she said, watching him it seemed for a reaction to her statement.

No, he would never consider himself weak and neither would he fall in love. That was not for him. “I would have to keep the upper hand in a relationship. Love is not for me.” Changing the subject, “We still haven’t spoken about you. What was it you want to talk to me about?”

Her eyes closed as she waved a hand in front of her face. “I’m exhausted. Perhaps we could speak of it tomorrow.”

“Too much brandy,” he murmured huskily, even while he poured her more, unsure if the alcohol would loosen her tongue or put her to sleep.

She sat up straight, her back stiff, amber eyes flashing. “Then why do you keep giving me more?”

“Hmm…” His grin was knowing and pure male. “That’s a good question. I don’t know except I do enjoy you when you are more relaxed, not intoxicated, just sleepy-eyed and stress-free. Sometimes your back is just too stiff. You seem to hold everything inside yourself.”

He sat down next to her again. Her hand in his, he pressed gentle circles on her wrist, enjoying the way her eyes grew wide and seemed to shine with what he knew to be desire.

What would it be like to experience her raw passion? She had learned so many ways in the harem she grew up in to please a man. At least that’s what she’d told him. Perhaps it would be nice to experience those sweet things she knew but kept to herself.

She swallowed, looking away from him but not withdrawing her hand from his. “I’m going to move out.”

The earth seemed to stop for an instant. “You’re what?”

He felt blindsided by her sudden statement. He’d never imagined when he walked into the parlor, she would shock him this way. When she said she needed to talk, he’d thought it would be something frivolous like buying more rose bushes, which of course he would say yes to.

Moistening her lips then tucking the bottom one beneath her teeth, “I’m moving out,” she repeated quickly as if she was trying to convince herself. “There is nothing here for me. I feel as if my life has no meaning and that it is passing me by. I, too, would like to find someone I can share my life with.”

“You can do that and still live here. Why?” he asked abruptly, his heart racing.

He didn’t want her to go anywhere. She was a constant in his home as well as his life. Bloody hell, but she was an intricate part of his life, a meaningful part he didn’t think he could do without.

She met his gaze now, seeming to make her point. “I just told you. Just as you want an heir, a family, a wife, I need to move on and find some of those things for myself. When you wed, I’ll be in the way and underfoot. I don’t want that for myself or you.”

“I don’t understand.” She was a servant, a trusted one but a servant nonetheless. “Why would you be in the way?”

“I would feel out of place. That’s all.” She didn’t meet his gaze as she smoothed her skirt.

“Blessed hell, I don’t see why. You’re a servant.”

“Nothing more,” she finished for him, a small tear sliding from her eye which she turned from him and quickly brushed it away with the back of her hand. “Not really a servant. I work for you only because I don’t want to be in my brother’s way or underfoot in his household.”

Anger built inside him, his fists tightening. “You know that’s not true. You’re more than someone who works for me. You’re important to me.”

“Do I? Whatever have you done or said to make me feel as if I was more than a servant to you?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t. Needless to say, I don’t believe you. If you ever took the time to listen, you would comprehend everything I’m telling you.” Her back stiffened again. “I’m moving out.”

“Where will you go? My ex-mistresses’ townhouse is available.” He knew the moment he uttered the words, it was wrong of him. She would never accept a proposition of the nature he just offered.

“I will give you the benefit of the doubt. Not for a second do I believe you meant that the way it sounded. You would never ask me to be your mistress. I also don’t think I have to tell you, I’ll never become your mistress, just as I risked my life to leave the harem for that same reason. I won’t be the pawn of any man.”

Trying to tamp down the rising anger and the pain in his gut, he tried to unclench his fists at his sides, “Where will you go then?” Yet he understood she had options.

Her brother, Broc, would provide for her. His sister, Chelsea, would do the same if she asked. Arie, the sultan who followed her to Glasgow, would make sure she lived in comfort.

“My brother has offered me his ex’s home. However, unlike your offer, the good people of Glasgow won’t believe me to be my brother’s good horizontal.” She seemed beside herself with emotions, anger rising with the force of each word.

She was cross now and perhaps annoyed as well. He read it in the lines around her eyes as well as the pursing of her lips.

“My apologies.” He bowed deeply. “Guess I don’t want to see you leave. I enjoy your company too much. You are a breath of fresh air in this crazy world I’ve found myself in.”

“Life goes on. It makes no difference in the scheme of things if we have good conversation or not. There is nothing here for me and like you, I’d like a family, husband and children.”

A sudden wave of jealousy swamped him. If he’d been standing, the sensation would have sent him to his knees. He’d do anything in his power to stop that from happening, but that was all wrong too. He forced a calm to settle inside, something he truly didn’t feel. “Do you have someone in mind? A suitor who would be appropriate for a husband.”

She plucked at her skirts again. “I do but I haven’t met him yet.”

Her voice was so soft and small he needed to bend over to hear her. “Does this person have a name and does he know how you feel?”

Her face slightly flushed as she blinked and stared at him, “He does and no. I’m not sure I know as of yet.”

“And…” It seemed to Flynt she was forcing him to drag the information from her. She didn’t want to give him any knowledge he didn’t ask directly for.

“Angus,” she told him then with a bit more volume, “Angus Kinross. He works with Cam at the university.”

“How did you meet him?” He tapped a finger on his chin. “You’ve barely been anywhere.” He didn’t like this idea of Hope being courted by a male. Well, the devil, who else would court her?

She shrugged, looking away from him, seemingly unwilling to meet his gaze. “As I said earlier, but you don’t listen, I haven’t yet.”

He knew once again his friends, the bad boys, were interfering in his life. He was happy though, she had still to meet this man who was taking her away from him. “How do you know you’ll like him?”

She smiled then, “Cam says he’s ever so nice and gentle as well. He called him a gentle giant. He as big as Thor, or as big as the Norse God was rumored to be.”

“That must be nice,” Flynt murmured, wishing he had a better hold on this conversation while he planned to pay Cam a visit tomorrow in order to find out exactly who this Angus Kinross was and what he did to deserve to court Hope. “Cam should keep to his own business,” he blurted.

“Why would you say that? He’s just trying to help me.” Hope sounded defensive, her frown lines deepening with each of his questions. “Broc told him I was moving out and why. Seems you should keep to your business. This really doesn’t concern you. You have no hold on me. I am, after all, your servant.”

Yes, he should but he always thought Hope would be part of his life forever. His voice hoarse and heavy with unspoken emotions, “Want to see you safe and happy, that’s all.”

“That sounds better.” She smoothed her skirts again, her fingers winding into the fabric negating the previous gesture.

He would give just about anything to know what she was feeling, thinking, other than nervous. “When are you going to meet this guy? How did you say Cam knows him?”

“You haven’t been listening to anything I’ve said. This guy is Angus and he’s a mathematician at the university. Top of his field; he does these amazing calculations for Cam and his astronomy. You know, they chart the stars and the galaxies, things like that.”

“What the devil do you mean?”

“I’m not sure. Cam said something about charting the distances to stars and planets. Think I heard the words solar systems. It’s all somewhat over my head since I cannot even add a few numbers. Would like to learn though.”

“A real paragon of virtue,” Flynt said sarcastically, an intelligent man. He wondered if he was just smart or wise in the ways of the world. If they wed, would he know how to give her a woman’s pleasure?

“You don’t have to act that way.” She stared at him, his lips actually.

“Back to my first question. When are you going to see this mathematician?” Flynt couldn’t tamp down the jealousy. Didn’t want to in any case.

“This weekend, don’t know if I should tell you anything else.” She yawned, slumping a bit in the chair. “I am tired. We should put off the rest of this discussion until tomorrow.”

“There is more?” He sat down beside her again, wishing he dared kiss her.

She was staring at his mouth, and he had the distinct impression she wanted him to kiss her, no, was subconsciously begging him.

“He is taking me to a competition, caber tossing I believe was what Cam said. He’s a contestant. It’s a highland celebration and there will be lots of things beside the caber toss, like dancing and all kinds of food.”

Flynt was nodding his head, thinking of all the things to do. “I suppose he’s the best too.”

“That’s what Cam told me. He almost always wins.” She yawned again, moistening her lips and seeming to suggest other things.

“Suppose he’s wearing a kilt also.” The thought sent another jealous bolt knifing through him.

“That I wouldn’t know, but I can only assume. What does one wear to toss a caber?” She yawned again, closing her eyes. “Should probably go to bed before I’m forced to sleep here on the sofa.”

“I wouldn’t allow that.” Smiling, he watched her as she tried to stand, pushing from the couch only to find herself back in the same position as she was before.

“Can I help?” He extended a hand as an offering before he swept her into his arms and to her bedroom.

She nodded her approval, “Perhaps I drank too much.”

“Perhaps you did,” he agreed, wondering just how he was going to keep himself from kissing her, tossing her on her bed, making love to her, in the process ruining her for Angus Kinross. With Hope in his arms, Flynt carried her to her bedroom.

Sitting on Hope’s bed and holding her so close, he felt one with the world. This feeling inside him was right, so what was he going to do about it?

She sighed softly, opening her eyes now. One soft fingertip stroked his jawline. “Kiss me, Flynt.”

“Kiss you?” He chuckled, “You’re smashed.”

“No really, I want you to kiss me. Need to have something to compare.” Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, her gaze resting on his mouth.

She must not realize how provocative that simple gesture was. When he stepped into his parlor a few hours ago, he had no idea the evening would end this way. He wasn’t going to turn down an invitation such as this one, even though she was half asleep and had clearly drunk too much.

“If you insist, I never turn down a lady,” he whispered so close to her lips he was sure she would feel his breath.

“I do,” she closed her eyes, waiting. “Insist.”

“Open your eyes, sweet lassie.” His lips found hers, touched, explored before his tongue delved inside, finding the soft inside of her upper lip then the edge of her teeth. She was sweet and hot. Her softness intrigued him as well as her willingness to allow him inside. Her tiny sounds of pleasure sent him over the edge. All he could think of was discovering more of her, all of her. That discovery would have to wait for another time. He liked his women willing but also of clear mind when he pleased them with his sexual expertise. He wondered if Angus could claim that thought.

It seemed she relaxed in his arms. She was asleep, soundly asleep. She would never remember the kiss and would have naught for comparisons sake. He laughed at himself as well as his thoughts of making love to her. Even with her strange and erotic upbringing, she was by far too innocent for the likes of him.

What to do now?

She wouldn’t sleep well, not if she went to bed wearing her clothes and her corset. He could undress her, perhaps without looking at her. No, don’t get too far ahead of yourself, old chap. No way in hell could he do that when presented with such a golden opportunity.

With Hope totally uncooperative, Flynt managed to remove her dress and corset, leaving her with only her chemise to cover her. He looked at her then, her soft feminine curves. Groaning, he pushed more carnal thoughts from his head.

He couldn’t help himself. He continued looking, dreaming about her as well. She was slim, her breasts perfect, seeming to invite him to taste. Nope. Walk away before you do something you’ll forever regret. Pulling the covers over her, she woke.

“Flynt?” The question in her voice stopped him as she sat up, her covering slipping to her waist.

“Yes.” He sat beside her, wishing he had permission to touch and explore, to curl up beside her.

“Stay with me tonight.” Her hands rested against his chest, imploring him to heed her request.

“You wouldn’t like it when you woke up,” he argued to no avail. “There would be regrets and recriminations on your part.

“I don’t like to be alone. You’re here with me now.” She closed her eyes for a second. “Please don’t go away. I’ve been so lonely. Sometimes I want to cry.”

Cry? So lonely? “You won’t like it in the morning,” he told her again, knowing he was too close to accepting her proposition.

“I don’t care.” Her voice was soft, her breathing shallow.

He could see the pulse point at her neck, which was beating rapidly.

Blessed hell, but she wanted him. It wouldn’t hurt he told himself. Her invitation was not the one he would have preferred right now. Nonetheless, how could he refuse? “Very well.”

He strode to the other side of the bed, ridding himself of his shirt and sitting on the bed to remove his boots. Prudence told him he should leave his buckskins on despite his preference to sleep naked.

She watched him, staring at him while he settled in next to her. Pulling a quilt from the end of the bed over him, he wrapped her in his arms. “Go to sleep now. I’m here and I won’t leave until morning.”

This was heaven and he was a saint for his gentlemanly behavior. In the morning he could give himself a pat on the back. In the morning, she would be shocked to find him in her bed. He could effectively get rid of Angus by regaling him about her and their escapades.

He was a cad, yet…

The raging thought held too many beautiful possibilities

~ * ~

“Bloody eyes,” Hope murmured as she opened blurry eyes to discover a pounding head and a man’s arms enfolding her. The sweet kisses, she paused in thought. It had to be Flynt but why was he in her bed? The feel of his mouth against the back of her neck then down her backbone sent a myriad of shivers along her spine as it did everywhere else.

She wore next to nothing, she realized as she ran her hands along his strong arms. Turning in his embrace and discovering him naked, sleeping with her didn’t seem prudent. This was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid for years. Why her mother helped her escape the harem and the fate that waited for her if she stayed. What to do now?

With his lips he caressed her ear, tickling the lobe before gently worrying it with his teeth. Her body heated, reacted as she unconsciously pushed against him in response. She wanted more. Yet…

“No.” She pushed away, sitting up her sheet held tightly to her breasts. “Flynt, stop. What are you doing in bed with me?”

When she finally turned and looked at him, he grinned at her, a charming very Flynt grin. “Why?” he asked, his voice husky with what she could only assume was desire. “After last night and what we did together, I would think you’d be more than willing to do those wonderful things again. You are wonderful, you know. Besides, you invited me into your bed. Don’t you remember?”

“I did not. What did we do last night?”

Her breaths were rapid little pants, which she tried desperately to slow but to no avail. She clung to the sheet, her grip tight, not wanting to let the meager covering go. Her modesty had been important to her, but he must have seen all of her, touched and explored her. She groaned, thinking of all the possible consequences.

“You don’t remember? Well, you did have a bit too much to drink and while I’d never taken advantage of a woman in an inebriated state, you did beg me. I recall your sweet please clearly. So, I thought to myself. What to do? I couldn’t very well let you down. After all you begged me to make love to you.”

She wanted to cosh him over the head with something hard, but all she could find was her pillow. “I did nothing of the sort. I didn’t beg for you. I wouldn’t. I’ve never wanted such a thing for myself.”

He smiled again, gazing at her lips for a second. “I’m sorry you don’t remember. Perhaps we could try again tonight or right now for that matter. It is a disappointment to me when a woman doesn’t remember the pleasure I gave to them.”

“Stop it.” Her hands on her face, she felt the rush of heat to her cheeks. Quickly, she reached for the sheet, which had fallen. “Don’t say another word.” She pointed at him, her hands shaking. “I think I would know if we did that. If you did that.”

“Did what?” His grin widened.

“You know.”

Now his grin seemed to reach nearly from ear to ear, his perfect white teeth showing. The silence unnerved her more than his accusations.

“Go away.” She pushed the sheet away from her then looked at herself and the view she presented to him. Her body had been his to see yet he still wore his buckskins and while his shirt was unfastened, it hung loosely from his shoulders. His chest was well muscled, his body so hard and fascinating, intriguing. Her fingers itched to caress, explore, and discover every hard inch of him.

“Cook sent coffee and pastries,” he finally spoke. “Are you as hungry as I am?” He stared at her breasts as if he wished to devour them.

“Cook knows you spent the night? Stop looking at me like that.” She swallowed hard, thinking, trying to defuse the gossip before the rumors found their way to Glasgow.

“Like how?”

“As if you want to devour me.”

“Oh, can’t help it. It’s true.” Changing the topic back to the cook. “All she knows is that I brought you breakfast. Told her you had a headache and she claims her coffee will cure everything that ails a person. She also sent a bit of laudanum if you wish it. I would advise against it though. Heard it could be addicting.”

“My stomach is churning.” She inhaled deeply, terrified of asking her next question. “I’m not a virgin anymore?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

His voice took on a different tone. One she couldn’t define. When she looked at him, she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. This was not how she planned her life.

He sat beside her, pulling her into his arms, running his hands along her nearly naked back. “I’m sorry. That was not well done of me. I got caught up in the moment and wanted to tease you. We didn’t do anything last night. Had I taken your virginity, there would be blood as well as my seed on you as well as the sheets. Forgive me for being so blunt but…”

She remembered the women in the harem after sex. What he said was true. She coshed him on the head with her pillow. “I’ll never forgive you for that.” She hit him again and again until he roared with laughter, falling back onto the bed.

“Telling the truth? I give up. I surrender. Promise to lie to you just so you won’t hit me.”

“Don’t you laugh at me.” She hit him again then again, putting all her efforts behind each blow.

Grinning still, he tackled her, rolling on the bed with her, laughing, holding her hands over her head. She stared at his mouth, couldn’t help herself.

He was resting on top of her, bracing himself with his forearms. “You shouldn’t do that. It’s foolhardy of you.”

“What?” She felt his length against her, his sex hard against her belly. He’d spread her legs and he was lying between them. She gulped air.

“Stare at my mouth.” His eyes blazed with raw passion and desire and a hunger she’d never seen blazing in his eyes before. Letting go of her hands, he traced her eyebrows then along her jawline. “I’m hard pressed to resist you. You enthrall me, never bore me and you’re definitely not a twit.”

From what her mother told her about men, he hungered for her. She saw the passion in his eyes and couldn’t help the sigh. “Your mouth, it’s beautiful and soft, so different from the rest of you.”

“You know your lips are asking me to kiss them.”

Hearing his words sent a wave of desire rippling through her. “That’s impossible.” She tried to be strong. “My mouth wouldn’t ask that.”

He chuckled. “Little liar, nothing is impossible.”

With his teeth he gently tugged at her bottom lip, pulling the soft flesh into his mouth, running his tongue across it, soothing the tiny nip.

Her fingers beneath the fabric of his open shirt, she clung to him, reveling in the way he felt against her hands. She yearned for more than she should, more than she had any right to ask for. Tell him no. She couldn’t, in any case she didn’t want to lose this magical moment with him. These few seconds might well be the last for her.

His breath whispered against hers, “Open for me, sweet lassie. Open your mouth so I can reach inside. I need to taste you.”

Unable to resist the temptation he offered, she did as he bade, felt the pressure of his lips as they closed over hers, gasped as his tongue slid inside caressing hers. He explored and she responded. Primal hunger filled her, touched her soul. She loved him. Loved him desperately yet he didn’t reciprocate. All he wanted was sex with her. She understood what drove him. Still, she couldn’t refuse.

His hands settled on her waist then rose, enticing, caressing over her slightly veiled body, the chemise she wore would never protect her from the raw desire he enticed. Heat raced through her, the inferno building with each mysterious stroke of his fingers. The fantasy he wove around her would vanish as soon as he left. Then her world would crash down around her and bring her shame.

His lips found hers again and again. She moaned, unable to stop herself. Running her hands down his torso, she basked in the feelings encompassing her. She should stop him now. Stop. Now before it was too late and she really did lose her virginity.

Her body arched against his as his lips found a nipple. “Flynt…”

“Sweet, sweet lassie, you taste so wonderful.” He paused in his attentions to her, smoothing her hair away from her face, gazing down at her. “I should stop. You should tell me to go away.”

“I can’t.” She sighed into his mouth as it once again closed over hers.

It was true. Sometime in the last minutes, she lost the will to turn him away. It seemed he didn’t want to stop either. If this would be her undoing, she would have no regrets.

She held on to him, pulling him closer, never wanting to let him go. Against her belly she felt his hard arousal pulsing against her. She arched, searching for something, for some fulfillment she didn’t understand.

“Sweet lassie.” His hands roamed the length of her leg. “I want to kiss you everywhere. It’s just kisses,” he whispered. “Kisses never hurt anything. Innocent kisses.” Again, his lips closed over a veiled nipple as he pulled it deep into his mouth.

She was mindless now, quivering, needing him and knowing his kisses were not innocent. “Flynt,” she sighed again. “What you do to me…”

Suddenly he left her, pulled away by an unforeseeable force. “Get off my sister.” She heard the words, tried to register them in her head. Broc?

Sounds of knuckles hitting flesh, grunts then a moment of silence while hard breathing followed. She sat up, once again holding the sheet against her, shocked to see her brother standing over Flynt, his hands fisted at his sides.

Siting on the floor, Flynt rubbed his chin, “Guess I deserved that.” He was staring at her though, still smiling. “Suppose I should leave now.”

“Not so fast.” Broc stepped between him and the door, looking from Hope to Flynt. “What are your intentions? I’m not going to make the same mistakes you did.”

“Ironic, don’t you think,” Flynt said. “You get to make love to my sister, leave town never caring to find out if your seed took root and now you want to hold me accountable for something I haven’t done yet.”

“Only because I got here before you could take what you wanted. Did you ask her for her hand? Did you commit to her in any way?” Broc gritted out, the lines in his face still pressed together in fury.

“I wasn’t going to take what I wanted,” he spoke, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Get out, both of you.” The men turned to Hope. “Get out now and Flynt, don’t come back. Broc you can wait for me downstairs. This has been the most horrendous night and morning. Both of you, you’ve mortified me to the tips of my toes.” She couldn’t stop the tears from filling her eyes and falling down her cheeks.

“I promise you, Hope, I will come back. We’ve things to talk about, and I’m not going to leave them unsaid.” Flynt grabbed his boots, heading out the door. Before the door closed, he stopped to look at her one more time.

“Go to the devil.” She didn’t want to see either man. Embarrassment heated her, rushed through her. Covering herself with the sheet, she hid from them, holding her breath until she heard the door close and both men’s booted steps heading away from her room and down the stairs.

Trying to calm herself, her shaking nerves as well as come to terms with what she’d just allowed Flynt, she was shocked to hear the door open. A very soft feminine voice followed. “I’ve your bath water, Miss Hope. Master Flynt ordered it. May we come in?”

Still beneath the sheet, “Yes,” her voice wavered as she still felt nearly spineless from the encounter with Flynt. None of this should have happened. She knew better. Thank her lucky stars Broc came by.

What did her brother want?

Well, she supposed she’d find out soon enough. She didn’t understand men, didn’t think she ever would. Now, she meant to take her time and make them stew downstairs for as long as possible, hoping they would have something better to do with their morning and leave.

“Your bath is ready, Hope.” The maid left the room.

Once again Hope waited to hear the door close behind the woman.

Warily she sat up, still clutching the sheet against her. They were gone, thank God, but Broc would expect her to explain herself to him. Well, her brother could wait in hell. After all she was an adult woman and the only person she needed to explain herself to was her.

Now she began to understand Bliss’ feelings a bit better. Bliss gave her brother all of herself and he’d run away, afraid to commit to her. Blessed hell, Bliss had twins just seconds after they were married. What kind of man did that to the woman he loved?

What possessed her to offer herself up as a virgin sacrifice to Flynt when she knew better, had counseled other women against doing just this sort of thing. She was smarter than that, but she suddenly realized this sex thing had nothing to do with intelligence.

Slipping into the hot water, she tried to rid her mind of the morning events. She found the feat impossible even while she closed her eyes. Shutting her eyes made it all worse. With her eyes closed, she imagined every heated caress, the evocative ways he stroked and kissed her, nothing innocent about his kisses and where he placed those kisses. He was a man who knew what he was doing.

A bad boy.

With a heavy sigh she sat up, washing all of her, retouching every place Flynt caressed. “I’m going to forget about Flynt, a man I can never have. Angus, a gentle giant, he sounded just right for her. She hoped his kisses would be as nice as Flynt’s. If no, he would just have to do.”

She supposed Broc was here to see how she was doing, maybe tell her a bit about Angus. She stiffened suddenly, water sloshing over the rim of the tub. What if Angus was here, right now, waiting downstairs with Broc to meet her? Good God, he wouldn’t do that to her, would he?

Angus would know she had been with Flynt when Flynt walked through the parlor to leave. No, you silly ninny, Broc would never tell him and Flynt would never leave his home unless that was what he wanted.

Flynt might tell everything. This had all started because Flynt didn’t think Angus was the right man for her. He wouldn’t say the words outright, but he might imply by subtle innuendos that he just came from her bed.

He wouldn’t dare.

He would.

Well, she still meant to take her time getting ready to meet her fate. Whatever that was. Letting the water sluice from her as she stood, she reached for the bath towel that had been set out for her.

Let them stew.

An hour later, unable to find anything else to do, she walked down the steps to find her brother sitting with Angus, visiting and seeming to enjoy each other’s company.

He was handsome, in a medieval sort of way. When the two stood, Angus, she assumed the man was Angus, towered over her brother by almost a head and her brother was a tall man. His shirt tightened around his shoulders when he reached forward to place her hand in his. He brought her hand to his lips, gently kissing the back. “Hope.”

“Angus?”

Against her skin, his red beard was soft and when he smiled at her, his green eyes twinkling, the expression was tender. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Hope. May I call you Hope?”

Beside herself with worry, she didn’t know how to react to this man who seemed so sincere. He would realize soon she didn’t reciprocate that tenderness, “Of course.” At least the first question was easy.

She sat down, smoothing her skirts wondering, “Why are the two of you here? It’s a long ways to come without good reason. I doubt if it was just to meet me.”

“It was,” Broc smiled at her “Cam thought you should get to know Angus before Saturday’s outing, and I wanted to accompany you to your new home in Glasgow. Angus thought he would help out.” Broc’s voice was tight with emotions she was sure he didn’t want to show.

“Flynt would have seen me to the house. Neither of you needed to come here.” And humiliate me. The words were out before she could take them back. “Where is Flynt?”

“He left,” Broc bit out, clearly still displeased with what he saw earlier.

“For town? For a ride? This is his home, why should he leave?” she asked, knowing she was ruffling her brother with each inquiry.

“Didn’t ask and don’t care,” Broc said with a masculine shrug and an air of indifference. “Well then, perhaps we should be on our way. Is Angus coming with us also? I’ve packed a couple of valises and a trunk. They are upstairs and they are quite heavy. You should go get them.”

Angus stood, shifting from one foot to the other, “Lass, do you still want to go with me tomorrow? You seem a bit restrained. After Flynt left…”

“My apologies,” she murmured, lowering her lashes for a second, then, “My brother showing up here today without a note, anything to let me know he intended to surprise me not only with himself but with you has left me a bit on edge. I don’t appreciate surprises such as this. It seems my morning has been filled with the unexpected.”

“I would not have taken such liberties, rest assured, if Broc and Cam had not made sure to tell me multiple times that my presence would not be an imposition. Were they wrong?”

She felt the flush of color rise to her face. “It’s not an imposition. Truly, I was looking forward to getting to meet you, of learning about you more thoroughly and intimately but not with an audience.” She shot her brother an angry glare.

“You are not going to be intimate with Angus,” Broc said, his voice harsh.

She noticed a flush rise on the part of his face the beard didn’t cover. “Why don’t you get my bags?” she asked Broc. “Angus and I could use a few moments.”

“Of course,” Broc said, reluctantly rising from his seat, his glare furious.

“I can certainly help,” Angus started to stand.

Broc looked at his sister then Angus. “No, Hope does have a point. The two of you should have an opportunity to speak without big brother hovering. Perhaps the two of you can find something in common to share.”

She watched her brother’s back as he strode upstairs. “Take your time,” she called after him.

“You’re a bonny lass,” Angus told her when she returned her attention to him. “One I would like to get to know.”

“Thank you. Cam tells me you are a mathematician. Goodness, it’s all I can do to add and subtract a few numbers. I would love to have your skills.”

“I could teach you,” he offered, a grin showing beneath the beard.

She waved her hand smiling. “You would probably just confuse me. You see, my education was not in numbers and letters. I was taught other things.” Other things, such as how to seduce a man and how not to be seduced by one. She had not learned the second lesson at all, Flynt being proof of that fact.

“What did you learn? History perhaps, maybe literature.”

Pursuing another answer was not what she expected. She smiled then knowing she couldn’t tell him the truth. Flynt, she could be honest with him, because he knew most of her history if not all.

“I don’t want to shock you. I would have thought Cam told you that I grew up in a harem. My mother was captured and made a concubine of a wealthy Turkish sultan. My education has been unorthodox at best.”

“‘Tis nothing to be ashamed of. One cannot control their past and the life they were born into. It’s what you do after the fact that counts.”

Goodness, but he was just too nice. “You don’t care that I’ve learned a lot of things our society would scorn.” He needed to know the truth before they invested too much time together and she wanted to know how much of her past he could accept.

“No, but you’ve piqued my curiosity.” He smiled at her, sitting down on the sofa beside her. “Tell me whatever you feel comfortable sharing.”

“Perhaps another time, if there is another time. I take it you’re not one of the bad boys.” She started another line of questioning, eager to leave her past behind at least for the time being.

“Bad boy?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t know what you speak of. I’ve spent my entire life trying to be good.”

He had. “Didn’t think you were one, but you’re not boring like most who I’ve met who are not.”

“Was there a compliment in there somewhere?” He laughed outright and she liked the sound of it.

She shrugged her shoulders flirtatiously. “I have a way of saying what is on my mind. I suppose a compliment did exist in the words. Tell me about your family and later I’ll speak more of my life before I escaped and found my way here. You should know some things about me so you can make a decision.”

His eyes grew wide as she thought they would yet his smile remained. “I’m guessing, compared to your story mine will inevitably bore the tears from your eyes.”

“Try me. Do you have siblings? I’ve one, Broc, and he can be overbearing as you just witnessed.”

“I’ve seven siblings, four sisters and three brothers. Guess one could say we grew up poor even though my parents made sure we wanted for nothing, at least until they passed away.”

“In a sense, at least until I came to Scotland, I had more siblings than you. In the harem there was always someone to play with as there was always a new baby. We are all half brothers and sisters. My mother only had me. I was never quite sure why until I was older.”

He watched her with what seemed like avid curiosity. “I always excelled in school, numbers more precisely. Being crofters, the likely hood of attending the university was nonexistent.”

“How did you get so lucky, assuming that’s what you wanted?” She was curious now, intrigued by this man who worked his way to a better life.

“More than anything. The man overseeing the crofters and the crops noticed my capabilities and brought me to the attention of the lord who owned the land. One good thing led to another and I found myself studying to become a mathematician. It was the best thing that ever happened to me, and now I’m hoping you will take that place.”

She swallowed hard, deciding she had to give this man a chance and forget about Flynt who obviously wanted her for only one thing. “You’ll have to show me where you work.”

“A tour would be in order. We can speak of a time after the competition. Perhaps on Sunday after, the students wouldn’t be there.”

“What do they do at games besides the caber toss?” She was interested in the highland games. “I’ve never been to anything like this. In some ways I’m a foreigner in the land I should have grown up in.”

“Ah, so many things: dancing, piping, the toss and the hammer throw. I do both of those.”

“It’s time,” Broc let the bags fall to the floor with a crash. “I’ll send someone to get the trunk.”

Her hand flew to her chest, surprised by the jarring noise. “You don’t need to be rude.”

“You should have let me get the bags. They look heavy,” Angus said, rising to give assistance.

A slight flush rose to her brother’s cheeks. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Did the two of you get enough private time?”

“Not nearly enough for me. We’ll talk again on Saturday. We do have the ride into town to further discuss what we would like to do, perhaps the direction of our relationship.” Angus picked up one of the bags before offering Hope an arm.

“I must tell you nothing happened upstairs with Flynt,” Hope blurted as the stepped onto the porch.

~ * ~

Cam paced the parlor in Glasgow, his heart thundering in his chest. He just set something in motion he wasn’t proud of but would have to live with. He stopped his pacing to watch his wife.

Chelsea sat in a chair, studying him while shaking her head. She was knitting something, booties or a baby blanket. He could never be sure until she finished. He was always amazed, the yarn coupled with the needles ever turned into anything substantial or recognizable.

“Cam, please sit down and talk to me. You’re making me nervous and you’re about to wear a hole in the carpet.”

She set her work aside to listen to him, her gaze pointedly riveted on him.

He knew she wasn’t going to let this go and perhaps it was for the best. “I set something in motion I now regret and it’s too late to take it back. Even though I understood how Flynt felt about Hope, I did it anyway. Thought to put a spur on his behind, but I’m afraid it might have backfired.”

He watched her inhale a deep breath of air, her breasts rising then falling as she exhaled. “Very well then, tell me what this is all about.” She closed her eyes, sighing softly, a sound that was very endearing to Cam. “What does Flynt feel where Hope is concerned? I didn’t realize there was anything between them. If there is something there, they both have managed to hide their feelings.”

Cam strode behind his wife, his hands on her shoulders before bending to whisper into her ear. “He is as enamored of Hope as I am of you. He just won’t admit to his feelings. I believe she reciprocates those emotions, but Hope on the other hand is hell bent not to be his mistress, which of course makes complete sense.”

He felt the shiver his whisper created, thinking to take his wife to bed and forego this conversation, one that would inevitably result in an argument if he didn’t do something to waylay it.

She turned then, pointing across the room. “Stop it. You brought this up, so until we are finished, you need to sit in that chair. I need to understand more than these abstract notions you have about the two of them.”

“You do have a point, but your lovely ears, and neck, and well…your soft lips. I get side tracked way too easily. You have to do your part and stop enticing me.”

He wondered why he didn’t bring up this problem with Hope and Flynt after he bedded his wife. Too late now though, he would have to do her bidding. He left her side, striding across the room and taking a seat. He grinned at her.

“Cam, what makes you think my brother is in love with Hope? He’s courting two women at the moment.”

“Ah, yes,” Cam stood again but prudently retook his seat across the room. Uncharacteristically placing his hands in his lap, “Have you ever noticed the way he stares at her? He’s smitten, I tell you.”

“So you say. What about Melessand and Beatrice? Has he no feelings for either of them? He has certainly put enough time into courting them.” She picked up her knitting and the needles seemed to fly.

He drew in a long deep breath, concerned now that Chelsea wouldn’t understand or agree with him. “Melessand is a twit. There is no other way to describe the woman, and Beatrice is a total bore. Lovely as she may be, she cannot keep her nose out of books. She is a true bluestocking. He could not possibly fall in love with either, and if he wed either one, he’d regret it the day after, perhaps even sooner.”

She paused in her knitting “Let me get this straight. Flynt is in love with Hope but doesn’t know it, and the two women he’s courting, neither one is good enough for him. Am I right? What is wrong with reading? Beatrice must be very intelligent.”

“That’s it in a nutshell.” He knew when he mentioned the books, he would be in trouble with his wife, and he didn’t know how to explain himself.

“So, moving on, what is it you did that you now have regrets about?” She smiled at him. “This tale could prove to be very interesting.”

“I told Broc about a man I know, a professor at the university, a mathematician. He’s single and I thought it would be fun for Hope to meet someone, have a choice, you understand, and perhaps make Flynt a wee bit jealous.”

“You also thought this man’s attentions where Hope is concerned would prompt Flynt to make a commitment of some sort. You assumed Flynt would be jealous.” She was staring at his mouth.

“Yes. Angus is a very nice man. Yes, I hoped Flynt would be jealous. You have an extraordinary way of reading my poor man’s brain.” He wanted to laugh at the emotions sweeping across Chelsea’s beautiful face.

“So, he would be good for Hope if she liked him.”

“If she liked him,” Cam agreed.

“Yes.”

“If you keep that up, I’ll toss your skirts right here in the parlor.” He rose, striding toward his wife.

“Not in the parlor and the middle of the day.” She set the needles down again. With a laugh she picked up her skirts, racing up the steps.

He roared with laughter, knowing he would catch her before the bedroom. Perhaps he would lift her skirts and make love to her in the hallway. The bed would do for a second round.