“It took all of her moral strength not to kick him—just a little—while he was so conveniently at her feet.”

“So he’s harmless, then.”“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”“No?” “I would n’t slip up behind him with a knife, for he might retaliate.” Michael shrugged. “But that’s to be expected. He kills only when necessary.”Mary covered her face with her hands and moaned.”

“He moved to the faded red chair she'd indicated. As he lowered himself into it, there was a loud crack. One of the wooden legs snapped and broke, just as Sophia and Angus had planned when they'd sawed it half-through.A normal man would have been tossed to the floor, but with a little twist, MacLean shifted his weight forward and managed to remain upright, turning to regard the chair as it collapsed.Sophia swept to her feet. "Goodness! How horrid!" She narrowed her gaze accusingly at the chair. There was nothing like a little humiliation to set a man against a location, and it was a pity MacLean hadn't been thrown to the floor as she'd planned.MacLean bent and picked up a piece of the broken chair, his expression unfathomable. "Horrid, indead."Her desire to smile fled. Did he suspect something? Could he see where Angus had cut the chair let partway through?MacLean hefted the leg in his hand, his mouth thinned.Sophia cleared her throat. "I'll call the butler to remove that."His gaze locked with hers.The chair leg still in his hand,he walked toward her.Sophia licked her suddenly dry lips. She didn't know this man, not really. What was he going to do?She gripped the arms of her chair. Should she run for help? Surely not. Nothing she'd heard had indicated MacLean was a man of violence. Of course, everything she knew of him was mere heresay-He stopped before her and stook looking down into her face with the faintest of smiles. He didn't look angry; he looked knowing. As if he understood exactly what she'd done and why.A fear of another kind gripped her. Surely, he didn't. There was no way he could-MacLean leaned forward. Sophia's heart jumped, her skin warming oddly when his arm brushed her shoulder as he leaned past her...and tossed the chair leg onto the unlit fireplace.”

“Not used to be being bested, are you?""No," he said bluntly. "Poseidon could outrun your mare, and you know it. But I'm not about to risk galloping over a field I don't know. There could have been rabbit holes.""Of course.Rabbit holes.I understand."He frowned,about to defend his actions further, when he noted a twinkle in her gaze. The little minx was taunting him. For some reason, that improved his mood, and he said with a smile, "Sophia, my love, don't tempt a sinner. I am not afraid of you or your horse, and you damn well know it.""I'm sure you have a reason for not wishing to race," she returned in a demure voice, though her eyes sparkled with laughter. "I am just not certain you have a just cause.""I have both. The reason for not racing you is the potential harm to the animals; and the just cause is that I wish to keep you alone for as long as possible. And that will be more difficult to do once we reach the house."Her brows rose, a faint color touching her cheeks. "Oh."His lips twitched. "That's all you can say now? After all that posturing? You are a tease,my lady.""I don't consider myself so.""No woman does, and yet most are.”

“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.”

“I find you too charming by half.""And I find you too annoying by far. If you do not release me, I cannot be held responsible for your well-being."He chuckled at that. "A fiery little bundle,aren't you? I'll wager you like-"She brought her foot down hard on his instep.He yelped and released her, his face contorted in pain.Sophia stepped past him, but he grabbed her arm and yanked her back toward him. "You tease!" he gasped.She used her forward motion to shove him back against the settee.One moment, he was standing before her; the next, he was lying upside down on the rug behind the setee, his legs in the air.Sophia gathered her skirts and ran for the door. She was only steps away when it flew open and Dougal stood in the opening.He was dressed in his riding clothes, and she couldn't help but compare his elegance with Sir Reginald's flashy attire, with his exaggerated riding coat and gaudy gold-tassled boots-which were sill waving in the air.”

“Perhaps I should just leave after all."She whirled on him. "No! I'm just trying to find the right words,and I-oh,it's complicated!""Lies usually are."She wetted her lips. "Lies?"He raised his brow.She sighed, her shoulders slumping, an expression almost of relief crossing her face. "You know."Dougal nodded."Everything?"He nodded again."How we tried to conceal the house's value? And disguised the beautiful paneling in the library? And-""Blocked up the chimneys and hid the good furnishings and served me food a dead man would refuse."She bit her lip. "I'm sorry about that.""No,you're not. You wanted me unhappy and uncomfortable.""Well,yes-but not very uncomfortable.”