“It’d better be a damned good reason.”
“Here now,” she said as she actually waved a chastising finger at him, “no need to curse at me. This is already awkward enough what with your being naked and all...”
He arched a brow at her words. He’d forgotten that one piece of this, but since she brought it up, he was instantly aware of the fact nothing but a fur covered him.
“...but that’s no need to be discourteous.”
He snorted at that. “I was born discourteous.”
“So they say, however, discourteous or not, I have need of your services.”
He arched his other brow as a bit of amusement went through him and he taunted her before he could stop himself. “My naked services?”
A high blush rose to her cheeks, making her eyes appear more green than gold. “Most certainly not. I’d much rather have you clothed, but if ‘tis your custom to walk about bare, well then, I suppose to each his own.”
For the first time in years, he was actually amused. She was a cheeky, bold lass. Unlike anyone he’d ever met before.
Of course, he’d never before met an unknown well-born woman while he was naked in his bed.
And somewhere deep inside was the question of whether or not she would be so bold where it counted most...between his fur covers.
His body stirred instantly at the thought. Aye, she was ample enough to be well worth the savoring. Lush hips and breasts. Probably no more than a year or two younger than him, she would make a fine morsel to nibble.
One that would probably last out the night until they were both well sated and spent.
“My lord,” she said firmly like a tutor addressing an errant child. “I am here to procure your services as an escort.”
He frowned at her words. “My what as a who?”
“I need a man to accompany me to England.”
Nay, his mind roared as he remembered all too well what had happened the last time a woman had said those words to him.
That was the last thing he needed said to him today of all days. Most especially out of the mouth of a beautiful blond woman.
She took a step back at his snarl.
“I beg your pardon?” he growled.
She swallowed. “I need a man to take me to my aunt’s home in England.”
It was all Ewan could do to stay in his bed and not tear down the walls.
Surely the Fates were mocking him with this request. How could this happen to one man twice in the same lifetime?
“Why?” he asked.
Unaware of the fury roiling inside him, she cleared her throat. “I am engaged to be wed to a man I cannot stomach and I need you to escort me in safety to my aunt’s home so that I won’t have to marry the toad.”
Ewan cursed foully at that. It echoed off the stone walls around them. “Are you daft?”
“Most definitely not.”
“Then why would you come to me?”
“Because you are the most feared man in Scotland. No one in my father’s clan or my betrothed’s would dare stop you from taking me.”
“Aye, well you can forget all about that happening, love. There’s no power on this earth or beyond that could make me take you to England. Now hie yourself out of here and?—”
