“That one is particularly engaging.” He grinned playfully as she nearly choked on her incredulity.
“Is it really?”
“Aye. I couldnae put it down.” His eyes twinkled with humor. “Have ye an interest in the subject?”
“I make a better stable boy than milkmaid, I’m afraid.” She read the spine of the book she’d just picked up. “The Practical Landowner,” she read. “Volume six? My, my. One through five must have been enthralling to have held your attention through such eloquent prose as”—she flipped open to the middle of the book and read—“‘The advantages of draining are very great. It makes possible the working of soil shortly after the heaviest rain, so that crops can be put in early, or in the short interval before another rain comes on.’” She smiled, flashing her alluring dimple. “I’d wager you cannot stop yourself from plowing right through them.”
Connor rolled his eyes at the pun, as it was horrible, and took the book from her. “I should take the advantage and rain my hand down on yer bonny bottom.”
He swatted her backside with the book and Piper jumped with a gasp. “You wouldn’t.”
Shooting her a wicked grin, he set the book aside. “Dinnae tem—”
The word was cut off before he could finish, rousing her curiosity. “Do not what?”
He remained silent, sipping from a glass of whisky. Thinking through what he’d begun to say, she came up with the word. “Don’t tempt you?”
Tempt him to what? Spank her? Or something more? How terribly exciting to envision any part of her bared to his eyes. To have him watch her with that same heat and hunger that had infused his expression the other day. The mere thought of it aroused her, as did the regard in his eyes now, until she trembled with it.
This was desire. For the first time,herdesire. She’d heard enough conversation among the kitchen staff, and around the stables when the lads didn’t realize she was in earshot, to know the consummation of desire was often met with anticipation. With the right person, it offered the essence of what she lacked in life. Intimacy. Connection.
The sweet ache Connor summoned in her engendered a certainty that he was that person. It might be improper, even wanton to consider it, but she didn’t live by the standards of polite society anymore. She longed for him, wanted him to be the one to take her to those places beyond her comprehension.
“Have ye considered Scotland?”
“What?” She blinked at the question, so divergent from her train of thought. Considered Scotland for what?
“Ye said ye wanted to discuss yer options.”
“Oh, yes.” Drawing her thoughts back to the issue, she gave it a moment’s thought. “No, I suppose I considered the significance of distance above all else.”
“’Tis a bonny land.” His brogue was soft, rolling. “The Highlands, that is. Heathered moors, magical glens. Nay, dinnae laugh. I swear there’s a glen no’ far from my land, deep in the forest, in a steep ravine. Tree branches like a canopy above and a bed of ferns beneath yer feet. A stream runs along the bottom, the water clear as glass though the peat riverbed gives the illusion that it’s orange. This time of year, it bursts wi’ color.”
“It sounds enchanting,” she sighed as he took her hand in his, his calloused thumb tickling her palm.
“Ye could see it. Come wi’ me there.” He coughed awkwardly. His Adam’s apple bobbed and she wondered at it. “That is, until ye access yer funds and make a permanent decision.”
“I could.” It was somewhere between a question and a statement. Welcoming the prospect, yet not accepting the solution.
Going anywhere with Connor, anywhere at all, sounded magical. At the moment, she wanted him to take her to all the vague places her daydreams had him leading her.
Somewhere equally enchanting.
She longed for the chance to explore the possibilities. To see the fantasies begun in her imagination fulfilled in reality.
Turning her hand in his, she laced their fingers and contemplated the contrast between his sun-browned skin and her pale hand. Would their bodies be the same?
She slid her fingers along his, back and forth. The smooth glide of skin against skin summoned a new definition of the worderotic. A word she’d never truly understood until now.
His fingers tightened around hers, halting the sensual movement. “Do ye play golf?”
“No.” She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes. “Your sister does, I understand.”
“A family hobby.”
“You could teach me,” she said softly. “If I were to go to Scotland.”
“Or America,” he countered abruptly. “My brother Jamie is there. In New York. According to his letters, it’s a city one could lose themselves in.”
