Page 122 of Wicked Highland Heroes

He laughed. “Because it is true. Have a sip, then you roll first.”

She took a small sip, then tucked her knees to her side and braced the palm of her free hand on the carpet as she rolled. Eve moved her pieces, then he rolled and moved as she sipped her brandy. Of course, he was right, the liquid warmed her throat and belly, and she began to relax. She rolled again, and moved her pieces.

“You are in luck,” he said. “So far you’re able to protect your pieces.”

Eve wasn’t sure how lucky he was, especially when he unbuttoned the cuff of his shirtsleeves and rolled them up to reveal lean, tanned forearms. She wanted to look away, but was afraid he would notice her discomfiture.

She took a gulp of the brandy. “You grew up here in Ravenhall?”

“I did.” He rolled the dice.

“It must have been wonderful.”

“I have many fond memories,” he replied. “Tomorrow, if you like, I’ll show you some of the grounds.”

“I would like that very much.”

Her heart sped up a notch. So he wasn’t forcing her to return to England right away. She longed to ask how long they would stay in Scotland, but the truth was, it mattered little whether it was tomorrow or next week. When they returned, the result would be the same.

They rolled two more times and Eve sent one of his pieces to the middle of the board to start over. She narrowed her eyes. “I think you are letting me win.”

”You saw the roll of die. I have played good moves. I told you luck was with you.”

“I am not so lucky,” she said. “Neither are you, for that matter.”

“On the contrary, I am very lucky.”

“Rubbish. You have been forced to marry when you did not want to, and to a woman you barely know.”

“I know you well enough to know I like you.”

Eve stilled, the dice in hand. “You like me?”

“Had I not liked you, I wouldn’t have stayed in Manchester.”

“Why?” She rolled. “Why do you like me, I mean?”

“Because you are honest and forthright.”

“Forthright?” She scrunched her nose in distaste. “That is a way of saying pushy.”

“No. It is not.”

Eve recalled Lady Gallagher waylaying them in the gardens. “Honest… unlike Lady Gallagher?”

“So you remember her,” he said.

“I am not likely to forget anything about that night.” Eve counted off her moves and was forced to leave one of her pieces exposed. “Lord, that’s justice, is it not? I planned to kidnap you, so fate had me kidnapped, too.”

Eve glimpsed the upturn of his generous mouth as he reached for the decanter. “Fate has a way of intervening at the most importune moments.” He refilled their glasses.

“I couldn’t agree more,” she said. “If you had ended up in Gretna without me, you would have married Grace.”

“You do not know me at all if you still think that, madam.”

“You would have allowed her reputation to be ruined?”

“Eve, it was a hair-brained scheme from the start. There was no chance of success.”