Page 11 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

“Nae even when pigs fly,” she snapped.

Dark and seductive, Valeran’s laughter was light as a feather gliding over her skin. Flinching at the almost tangible sensation, Amalie quivered as the ache between her legs intensified until it throbbed, and desire heated her blood. The instant she recognized the need spiraling and twisting its way into every cell of her body, Amalie’s mouth went dry.

Dear God, she wanted him. How could she betray herself so appallingly? Why did she feel anything at all for the man facing her? A man who’d said he was inclined to seduce the mousy little Miss Rockwood simply to prove he could.

“Well then, option one it is. However, it won’t take me as long to learn the truth as it would if I were to kiss you.”

“So, ye are nae as confident in your skills of seduction as ye want people tae believe.”

“Not at all, my Scottish spitfire,” he murmured as he closed the space between them until he was about an arm’s length away and leaned into her. “But that sweet, lilting voice of yours captivates me, and I’d take my time tasting you. I’d want to revel in that delightful sound as you pleaded for more. In fact, it would take me a very long time to even try and extract the truth from you.”

Valeran’s confidence made her draw in a hiss of air. Terrified it sounded like the anticipation it was, Amalie clenched her fists. The grin on his lips deepened her rage.

“That would require pigs and sheep tae fly,” she snapped, horrified by her sudden wish that livestock could fly.

Appalled, her heart slammed into her chest. What in God’s name was wrong with her? The moment the man learned who she was, he would do what he had told Lady Chattfield he could do. And dear God, at this point, she would let him. A wicked chuckle parted his lips, and he nodded his understanding that she would only consider the first option.

“Allow me to proceed then. First, I’m confident you are not a member of the working class. No servant would have ignored my initial greeting. You did.”

“Such is the delusional brain of a mon who thinks so highly of himself that a servant wouldn’t dare tae ignore ye.” She released a snort of amused disdain. The moment she saw his jaw clench, she realized she’d erred a second time. She’d challenged him. Not a good thing. Amalie knew the man enjoyed challenges, just like all the Rockwoods.

“The house party is abundant with female guests of all ages, but you’re obviously not a young girl.”

“Obviously,” she sniffed with insolent amusement, feeling anything but amused.

“Nor are you fresh out of the school room or a debutante.”

“Now that intrigues me,” she said with surprise. “How could ye possibly ken either of those two things?”

“As you pointed out a minute ago, women fall at my feet, but debutants simper and giggle before doing so.”

“Ye are despicable.” Her acerbic reply made Valeran scowl at her for a few seconds, then smile.

“You might not like me, my fiery Scottish mule, but I know there are much better uses for that sharp tongue of yours.”

Amalie wasn’t sure what he meant, but she was certain it involved something wicked. Unwilling to let him know she was clueless as to the meaning of his words, she remained silent. His smile of satisfaction made her jaw clenched.

“Shall I continue?”

“By all means.”

Amalie’s mouth tightened at the small note of misgiving she heard in her voice. Her gaze shifted to the path down the hill that the man effectively blocked with his body. A hard, muscular male physique that was far closer to her than she wanted. Mocking laughter drifted through her head.

“I’ve met all the married women in attendance this week. None of them would climb to the summit of the cnoc beag without a companion. Lady Caroline, who’s enthralled with Lord Dalloway, is the only widow at the party. Since Dalloway isn’t here, you can’t be Lady Caroline. All I need do is sift through the names of unmarried ladies to learn yours.”

“That would be a remarkable feat as it is said ye are quite fond of widows, although I dinnae think ye would hesitate when it comes tae ruining an unmarried woman.”

Amalie’s derisive reply made Valeran glare at her. The man clearly didn’t like someone taunting him about his debauched reputation. This time, it was her turn to laugh with a triumphant sneer. Her laughter made his face harden with fury, and she winced. Why was she taunting him?

“I can assure you, my reputation doesn’t even come close to what the chin waggers would have you believe,” he snarled.

Frustration caused him to shove his hand through his hair. It was almost as if her taunts about his reputation pained him. For a moment, she wondered if she was being unfair. A split-second later, she called herself a fool.

“Allow me to continue,” he snapped. ”Since I’ve already eliminated at least half of the female guests, I need only determine which of the unmarried women at the house party are too afraid of their own shadow to even consider climbing the cnoc beag alone.”

The moment Valeran narrowed his silvery blue eyes on her, as if he could actually see her, Amalie stiffened. She tried to restrain her gasp of trepidation and failed. The anger holding the muscles of his face taut suddenly vanished. Apprehension slid through her at his wolfish smile.

“However, it’s your voice that will be your undoing, my Scottish spitfire. Despite the strong aristocratic inflections in your voice, I think you have a habit of slipping into that exquisite, lilting brogue of yours when your emotions are running high.”