“Perhaps we should spice up our next wager."A wary look entered her blue eyes. "How?""By wagering your mother's necklace against...your clothing."She froze, her arms over her head, her eyes wide. "My clothing?""Yes. Your gown-against your mother's neckace." His body was already hard at the thought of her standing before him in nothing but her chemise and stockings.Sophia lowered her arms with a teasing smile. "I doubt it will fit you."A surprised laugh broke from him. "That would be a sight. But to be crystal clear, if I win this hand, you will disrobe for me.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“Perhaps you met my mother-she and I look very similar. She and my father traveled quite a bit before I was born.""That's possible,I suppose," he said, as if not enitrely convinced."Sir Reginald." Dougal broke in on their conversation, entirely against common etiquette. "Perhaps you mistake Miss MacFarlane with a dream." He let his gaze linger over her in a similar fashion. "I often do."Sophia's face burned. Fiona choked on her wine, and Jack patted her back, glaring at Dougal. The judge let out a snort of laughter, while Mrs. Kent sent dagger glances at Sophia, and Miss Stanton, oblivious to it all, asked for the salt.”