“Did you bring money with you, or shall we play for markers?" She flipped the stack of cards to the table with a professional twist of her wrist. "I don't play for less than a guinea a hand."His lips twitched. "The question is not if I have money. The question is, do you?""I don't need funds, as I don't plan on losing," she said, her gaze mocking.For a moment, he thought he'd heard her incorrectly. Slowly, he said, "I beg your pardon, but are you saying you could beat me at a game of chance?"A dismissive smile rested on her lips. "Please, Dougal, let's speak frankly," she drawled softly. "Naturally, I expect to win; I was taught by a master."Dougal was entranced. He'd been challenged to many things before, but no one had so blatantly dismissed his chances of winning. "A giunea a hand?""At least.""I didn't realize I'd need a note from my banker, or I'd have brought one with me."Her eyes sparkled with pure mischief, which inflamed him more. "If you've no money with you, then perhaps there are other things we can play for."The words hung in the room, as thick as the smoke that seeped from the fireplace. Like a blinding bolt of light from a storm-black sky, everything fell into place. This was why she and her minions had worked so hard to convince him that the house was worthless. If he thought it of low value, he'd be eager to wager the deed.Of all the devious plots!Yet Dougal found himself fighting a grin. He'd been feted and petted, fawned upon and sought out, but until now, no one had gone to such lengths to fleece him.Dugal couldn't look away from Sophia. He knew his own worth; women had paid attention to him for so long that he took it for granted. He'd dallied and toyed, taken and enjoyed. But never, in all of his years, had he so desired any woman as he did this one. The irony of it was that she desired him,too-but only for the contents of his pocket.Dougal didn't know whether to laugh or fume. He should be insulted, but instead he found himself watching her with new appreciation.”

“I believe I will sit,but not on this chair. The settee is the most welcoming piece in the room,especially with you sitting on it.""Yes,but-"He sat,his hip brushing hers.She scrambled to move to one side, but he'd deliberately sat on the edge of her skirt.Her gaze narrowed, and she said stiffly, "I beg your pardon,but you are sitting on my skirt."Dougal smiled and leaned back, resting his arms along the back of the settee so that she was closed in by him. He found himself charmed by the thought. "Lord MacLean, I have asked you kindly to remove yourself from my skirt. Please do so, or I will be forced to take more drastic measures.""Such as?""Calling for Angus," she said flatly. "In case you didn't notice, my butler is larger than the average servant. He could easily pick you up and break you in two."Dougal quirked a brow. "While that behemoth you call a butler could easily pick me up, he'd have to get close to me first."She smiled smugly, setting Dougal's pride on edge. "I wouldn't try him; he's faster than he looks." She cast a glancedown at Dougal's boot. "Plus, you'd have to race through the barnyard, which could prove fatal to your shine."Damn this woman! She taunted with every phrase, teased with every look. He shifted so that his hip was even more firmly pressed to hers.”

“I daresay he is not happy that his daughter is now unchaperoned. A gentleman would bid his adieu.""You can't leave!"The words hung in the air.Sophia hid a wince and said again, in a more measured tone, "I'm sorry. I'm distraught over my father."MacLean gave her a devastatingly sexy half-smile. "You misunderstood me; I said, a gentleman would bid his adieu." His voice, low and soft, rolled over her senses like liguid silk. "Fortunately for us both, I am not a gentleman.""No?" She flicked a finger at the lace on his wrist. "You dress like one.""I dress like a dandy. Or,as my oldest brother, Alexander, often says, like a 'damned dandy.'"Her lips quirked. "Your brother sounds a bit harsh.""You have no idea." He smiled. "As I was saying, dressing fashionably does not make me a gentleman.""Fine.You are not a gentleman, and I am far from a child," she returned with a lofty wave of her hand. "I don't need my father's presence for protection.""But perhaps I do."She had to smile. "You don't need protection from me, Lord MacLean. I don't bite-though if I don't get something to eat soon, I may change my mind."His eyes sparkled with laughter. "By all means, then, let us eat." He led the way to the dining room, standing aside to allow her to enter.As she brushed past him, a hot sensation told her that his gaze was lingering on her posterior. She glanced back and found that she was correct. "Lord MacLean!"He reluctantly lifted hia gaze. "Yes?""Is something wrong with my gown?""No.There's absolutely nothing wrong with your gown. Or what's in it."She should have been shocked by his impropriety but instead was pleased he'd noticed. "Thank you. I must say..." She allowed her gaze to travel across him. "You fill your clothes well, too.”

“He dropped to one knee before her. "Sophia MacFarlane, though I've been every sort of fool there is, and though I've stolen from you and lied to you, as you've stolen from me and lied to me, will you please marry me? To keep me out of trouble, if nothing else."She gave a hiccup of a laugh, her eyes moist with tears. "Only if you, Dougal MacLean, will have me. After all I did to save MacFarlane House, I now realize that without people in it, the people I love, it's nothing more than an empty building. My home is with you, inside your heart."Dougal swept Sophia into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. Then, laughing, he set her back on her feet. "Come, my love, let's find my sister. She spent a good part of the afternoon telling me what a fool I was.I have to show her that she was wrong.""And you need my help to do that?""It would be a great boon if you'd cling to my arm and look absurdly happy."Sophia chuckled. "I think I can manage that."It was a noisy, contentious group that moved down the hall, as the earl and Red continued to snipe at each other, and Sir Reginald felt he needed to explain his improper embrace with Sophia even though everyone attempted to dissaude him.”

“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.”

“What's the matter, MacLean? Are you afraid?"His brows snapped down, his eyes glinting dangerously. "What did you say?"She lifted her chin. "I asked if you were afraid. If that is why you're sneaking out like a thief in the night?""It's morning,and I'm no thief.""No,but you are afraid,aren't you? Afraid of me." Dougal's expression darkened even more. "You don't know what you're saying.""Yes,I do." She leaned close to say dismissively, "You are afraid of what our card games might cause you to lose."Dougal's body tensed at the words, making Poseidon jolt forward. How dare she accuse him of being afraid? The thought of it raged through him.Yet in the back of his mind, a small voice whispered, She's right. You are afraid of what you'll lose, only it's not about the house. It's about your self-control.Dougal slung himself down from the horse and faced Sophia. She refused to back away but stood her ground so that he was but a few inches from her.She glared at him. "I saw your face last night. You want me, MacLean. Admit it. You're afraid I'll offer myself for the house, and you won't be able to resist it.And then..." She smiled smugly. "And the you'll lose.”

“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.”