“You,my lord, are giving me goose bumps.""Every beautiful woman deserves to be clothed in no less.”

“I dinna think tis romantic when a man says he's willin' t' give his life fer the woman he loves. Give me instead a man who'd fight to keep us both alive and kickin'! There's naught rommantic about a dead man, beau or no.”

“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.”

“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'll see you when you're done with your interrogation.""I am not going to interrogate anyone!"Jack grinned. "Of course not.You're just going to ask questions." He cast a glance at Perkins. "Lady Kincaid will be with our guest shortly.""Yes,my lord." The butler bowed and left.Fiona frowned at the steady beat of rain against the window. "Dougal will catch his death,riding in such a rain."Jack shrugged. "He made it; let him swim in it." He pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead. "I'll be curious to hear about this woman."Fiona absently nodded.If what Jack suspected wer true and Miss MacFarlane was the cause of Dougal's gloom, then woe betide the lady!Chin high, she swept into the entryway. Standing in the center of the hall was a woman with gray curly hair and freckles, broad as a barn and dressed as a servant. Fiona almost tripped over her own feet. Surely,this was not the sort of woman Dougal pursued? But perhaps...perhaps it was true love. Was that why Dougal had been so surly?Fiona gathered her scattered wits and put a polite smile on her face. "Miss MacFarlane? Welcome to-"A soft cough halted Fiona, and the woman before her pointed behind Fiona.She turned around and knew instantly that she was indeed facing the cause of Dougal's storms. Miss MacFarlane wasn't simply beautiful; the girl was breathtaking.”

“My dear brother, never allow a woman to hold all of the cards.”

“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.”