“Could he be naked beneath his breeches? Theyseemed molded to him, outlining the powerful lines of his thighs and the swell just above—Oh, God. She closed her eyes. She’d been looking at his—Not only was it rude, but it had sent anamazing tingle through her, almost as if she’d touched it.“Fiona, if you ever look at me like that again, I will not be held responsible for what I do.” Jack was soclose that she could feel his breath on her temple. “Do you understand?”
“Fiona, my love, as much as I adore you, I cannot stand your brothers. Any of them.""Gregor is much nicer now that he's married. Even you must admit that.""Only when Venetia is with him. When she's not, he's as annoying as ever."Fiona's lips quirked into a smile, her green eyes gleaming. "Rather like you, I hear.""Who has been carrying tales?""Everyone." She placed her hand on her husband's cheek and smiled up into his blue eyes. With his dark auburn hair and devastating good looks, "Black Jack" Kincaid had once been the scourge of London's polite society. Now he was her own personal scourge, one she couldn't imagine living without.”
“She eyed him uncertainly. “Very well. Nick wants me, but he’s decided not to… to…” She flounderedto a halt and the tears that threatened in her eyes became reality. One, single drop slipped down hercheek.Bloody hell. Anthony raked a hand through his hair. “Do you mean to tell me that Bridgeton is not… er,fulfilling his husbandly duties?”She nodded miserably. “Oh, Anthony, what am I to do?”He closed his eyes. God above. He was a decent man, one who took his responsibilities seriously. Hewas a good friend, an excellent landlord, and he never cheated at cards, unless it was with one of his ownbrothers. What had he done to deserve this?”
“Jack! Pray tell Miss MacFarlane that the roads are impassable.""The roads are impassable," he replied immediately."And that she should stay at least another day.""You should stay at least another day," he repeated, a twinkle in his eyes.Fiona nodded. "And that she is more then welcome here.""I am certain she knows that.""And how we'd love to have her for another week, at least,and-"Jack laughed and took his wife's hand. "Fiona, my love, I believe Miss MacFarlane is very aware that we both wish her to stay."Sophia had to smile. "I am very flattered, but we really must go. There've been so many unexpected storms that the roads could easily get worse."Jack snorted a laugh while Fiona glanced up the stairs. "Haven't there been," she said grimly before returning to gaze at Sophia. "I am so disappointed you are leaving."There was genuine warmth in Fiona's voice. "I am, too,but I must get back to my father, who has been ill. I was only to be gone one day, and he'll worry if I don't return immediately.""I suppose you can't-""She's not going anywhere."Sophia closed her eyes at the deep voice from the top of the stairs. Her enitre body had tightened at the sound, traitor that it was.Dougal came down the stairs to stand before Sophia, his expressioin guarded and tense. "Fiona,Jack, would you mind giving me a few moments' private speech with Miss MacFarlane?""Will you attempt to persuade her to stay?" Fiona asked in a hopeful tone."Absolutely." His dark gaze never left Sophia."Very well," his sister said, taking her husband's arm. "Come,Jack. I'm famished."He sent a stern glance at Dougal. "We will be in the breakfast room if we're needed.""You won't be needed," Dougal snapped."Jack,stop it," Fiona hissed. She tugged him into the breakfast room and closed the door.”
“I invited Miss MacFarlane because I could see that there was something between the two of you.""Something that I longed to avoid."Fiona eyed him a moment, obviously fascinated. "Would you explain what you mean?""No."She pursed her lips. "What if I promise to name my next child after you?"Dougal lifted his brows. "Won't Jack dislike that?"A smile quivered on her lips. "Yes. Which is why I though it a wonderful inducement for you.""I don't believe you'd do that.""Well,I would," Fiona said firmly.”
“As Jack began to climb the stairs, Fiona looked up at her new home. Five stories of stately mansionrose above her head. Heavy molding around the large windows and doors bespoke a quality andcraftsmanship that was obvious even in the dim night. “Good God! It’s massive!”Jack paused with his foot on the last step. “I do wish you’d keep those comments until we are in bed,love. I would appreciate them all the more there.”
“hmmm. Didn't they say a man's feet echoed the size of his manhood? Of its own accord, her gaze darted up Gregor's leg to where his deliciously tight breeches caressed his-"Knife."She blinked, her gaze jerking up to his face, her skin flushing. Please, God, don't let him know what I was thinking. "Knife." he said again."Knife?" she repeated dumbly."Good god, Oglivie. I will need a knife if I'm to cut these vegetables.”