Her Wicked Highland Spy (The Marriage Maker #10)(14)

The man’s large girth and length would feel beyond wondrous as it slides deep inside. Especially if one were to be pinned flat to the wall to take the full length of him. He would knee one’s legs apart and spread them wide to receive the full glory of his shaft as it drives itself to the hilt, only to draw itself out and then in again whilst his sinfully wicked mouth draws deeply on the breast—

“What are you writing so diligently?” Ethan chuckled close behind.

Rosalyn screeched and jumped to her feet, slamming her journal shut.

Ethan towered behind her, a startled expression etched on his handsome face.

She gripped her journal tight, feeling her cheeks down to her neck flame with a burning heat. She cringed. She obviously looked as guilty as she felt.

Ethan’s blue-gray eyes began to twinkle. “Come now, just what were you writing, lass?”

She forced her chin high. “Nothing, my lord. You merely startled me.”

“Could it be a love letter?” he teased.

Relief flooded through her. Ah, let him think it was something as paltry as that.

Unfortunately, he read her reaction far better than she’d imagined. A smile relaxed his lips and his dark lashes lowered. “If it wasn’t a love letter, what was it?”

“It was a love letter. Now, if you will excuse me, I’ll be going.”

A wolfish grin replaced his smile.

She scowled and clutched the journal tighter. “It’s a letter, I assure you.”

“To whom?”

“No one you might know, I assure you, though it’s none of your concern.”

“I assure you, that I know scores of men.”

Rosalyn clenched her jaw. “Not this one.”

“How would you know that?”

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” She wanted nothing more than to escape to the safety of her room, rip the offending pages straight out, and burn them so she might forget exactly what she’d written.

“Oh? Is he someone unattainable?” he asked.

The words hit far too close to home. Again, she could tell by his altered expression that he’d read her thoughts. Was the man a master of mind reading?

“Must you pry? It is no concern of yours any more than it is of mine, to whom you might choose to write.”

Ethan blinked. Then his lip quirked in a sensual smile. “I’m done writing letters, I assure you. I am quite unattached.”

The words made her stomach flutter, but she knew better. “I am sure, not for long.”

His eyes slid over her body in a slow, lazy inspection. “Indeed, I find myself inclined to agree.”

The heat in that gaze made it difficult to breathe.

“I’ve most recently discovered a lass who could catch my interest,” he rumbled in a low voice.

“Oh?” She willed herself to cease speaking, but a new devil possessed her. “A dainty, quiet, and peaceful creature? A lady of high society?”

Ethan chuckled, and his eyes took on a devilish glint. “I would run as fast as my feet could carry me from such a one, lass. Nay, I fancy lasses who prefer to race horses and fly in balloons.”

He held her gaze.

Her heart stood still.

“I fancy a lass with heat in her blood, and one who isn’t afraid to let her passion run free.”.

For one long, blissful moment, she hoped he would kiss her. Then the reality of the situation crashed down. “Then I hope you find her, my lord.” She whirled and hurried from the room.

He called out after her. Indeed, she hadn’t realized she was running like a frightened rabbit until then, but under the circumstances, it was the only thing she could do.

*

At long past ten, the house lay in darkness, but still, Rosalyn tossed and turned. Images of Ethan paraded in her mind. The line of his jaw. The mischievous glint in his eyes. The strength of his tanned hands as he’d raced his horses with consummate skill. And, of course, the sensuous lines of his naked body.

Rosalyn rose from her bed and pressed her cheek against the cool window glass. She couldn’t sleep a wink. Seeing him stand there, naked, had awakened feelings and desires with such force she could no longer assuage them.

Perhaps a swim would help.

It was late. The others lay abed. She slipped into her dress and out of her room and stole silently down the stairs and onto the veranda. The cool sea air caressed her face as she hurried down the winding path leading to the sea. The beach pebbles crunched under her feet as she approached the water’s edge. A quick glance assured she stood alone. In a flash, she shimmied out of her dress and slippers. Her shift followed in the pale moonlight.

She tucked her hair back in a simple twist and allowed a wave to reach her feet.

The water was cold, but not unbearable. She clenched her teeth and, by the third step, crouched to slide into the water. The jarring cold quickly faded away and with a wide grin, she began to splash about and ride the waves.

Yes. This is exactly what she needed. She heaved a sigh of relief, as a particularly large wave to caught and push her toward the shore.

Then something large emerged from the water beside her and caught her foot.

She screamed and twisted as a deep baritone chuckled, “Och, lass, I only meant to save you from the rocks.”

It was Ethan.





Chapter Seven