Read Online Secrets to Seducing a Scot by Michelle Marcos - Free Book Online
Authors: Michelle Marcos
Ads: Link
“No. I meant are you finished yet?”
“Not yet.” He strode over to her, his booted feet pounding upon the floor, and knelt right in front of her. She inched backward on the mattress, uncomfortable with his nearness. He got down on all fours and looked under the bed.
“Do ye entertain in here?” he asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
He straightened, and put a large hand on the mattress on either side of her. “Are ye in the habit of receiving gentlemen in yer rooms?” Black eyebrows flew up. “It’s best that ye tell me now.”
“Certainly not!” she responded. “What sort of a lady would I be?”
“Not the Scottish kind, to be sure.”
Her chin jutted in affronted pride. “Mr. Slayter, since you’ve entered my rooms, you’ve insinuated that I was a virago, a busybody, and now a lightskirt. Do you have any more calumnies to launch at me?
His eyes sparkled in amusement. “No. That should do for now.” Suddenly he leaned forward, his face only inches from her own, imprisoning her upon the bed. “But I’m still waiting for m’answer. Do ye have a secret lover, then?”
Serena looked away, an embarrassed blush pinking her cheeks. Lover? Yes, there had been a lover. Or more accurately, a Mistake. Even though it had happened a long time ago, the memory of that one night had never grown faint. A gentleman buck, confident and charming, had wooed her with thrilling exploits and honeyed words. Beautiful and charismatic he was, and it cost him very little effort to win her over. She let him get too close to her heart … and he took not only that, but her innocence as well. For as soon as she had given herself to him, he changed. No longer did he court and pursue; he criticized and disparaged. The man who had imprinted
himself upon her and made her his own soon evaporated from her life. It was not a Mistake she would make twice.
Now here was a man who was getting too close already. His hips were barely an inch from her silk-draped knees, rousing a strange quickening that she found instantly appealing. To make matters worse, he was not as severe-looking as she’d first surmised. In point of fact, he was quite handsome—albeit in a gruff, Scottish sort of way. Deliciously masculine—even if somewhat barbaric—and her eyes traveled wistfully across the wide shoulders and dense torso.
“No lover,” she replied.
“Good. ’Twould be a pity to break up a romance. For no man is going to get to ye while I’m around.”
Serena inhaled sharply, considering the idea of being alone with this man. One thing she would have to admit—he was a dangerous-looking adversary. As large and strong a man as she’d ever seen. And yet there was that soft wave of his rook-black hair … and the thick lashes surrounding his emerald-colored eyes … and the small dent in the middle of his chin … and his lips, which had a beautiful, soft sheen to them. His height was an instantly fascinating feature, and a question mark hung in the air as to how much of him was proportionate to his size. Serena’s thoughts began to traipse down a forbidden path. If he took it into his head to take advantage of her, Serena was not entirely certain she would object.
He stood up, depriving her of his presence. She swallowed hard, instantly missing the fortress of muscle that had surrounded her. He walked around her room, pounding his gloved fists upon the papered walls.
“Inspecting the structure for rot?” she asked, lacing the question with sarcasm.
He cast a sidewise glance at her. “I’m listening for hollowness. These old houses are full of false walls and trapdoors.”
She shook her head. “I keep telling you. There is nothing to fear.”
“I’m sorry ye think so.”
He crouched down to inspect the lock on her door.
“Satisfied?” she said, a smug tone to her voice.
A crease deepened between his brows. “Something’s not right.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a brass plaque on the outside of this door
“Not yet.” He strode over to her, his booted feet pounding upon the floor, and knelt right in front of her. She inched backward on the mattress, uncomfortable with his nearness. He got down on all fours and looked under the bed.
“Do ye entertain in here?” he asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
He straightened, and put a large hand on the mattress on either side of her. “Are ye in the habit of receiving gentlemen in yer rooms?” Black eyebrows flew up. “It’s best that ye tell me now.”
“Certainly not!” she responded. “What sort of a lady would I be?”
“Not the Scottish kind, to be sure.”
Her chin jutted in affronted pride. “Mr. Slayter, since you’ve entered my rooms, you’ve insinuated that I was a virago, a busybody, and now a lightskirt. Do you have any more calumnies to launch at me?
His eyes sparkled in amusement. “No. That should do for now.” Suddenly he leaned forward, his face only inches from her own, imprisoning her upon the bed. “But I’m still waiting for m’answer. Do ye have a secret lover, then?”
Serena looked away, an embarrassed blush pinking her cheeks. Lover? Yes, there had been a lover. Or more accurately, a Mistake. Even though it had happened a long time ago, the memory of that one night had never grown faint. A gentleman buck, confident and charming, had wooed her with thrilling exploits and honeyed words. Beautiful and charismatic he was, and it cost him very little effort to win her over. She let him get too close to her heart … and he took not only that, but her innocence as well. For as soon as she had given herself to him, he changed. No longer did he court and pursue; he criticized and disparaged. The man who had imprinted
himself upon her and made her his own soon evaporated from her life. It was not a Mistake she would make twice.
Now here was a man who was getting too close already. His hips were barely an inch from her silk-draped knees, rousing a strange quickening that she found instantly appealing. To make matters worse, he was not as severe-looking as she’d first surmised. In point of fact, he was quite handsome—albeit in a gruff, Scottish sort of way. Deliciously masculine—even if somewhat barbaric—and her eyes traveled wistfully across the wide shoulders and dense torso.
“No lover,” she replied.
“Good. ’Twould be a pity to break up a romance. For no man is going to get to ye while I’m around.”
Serena inhaled sharply, considering the idea of being alone with this man. One thing she would have to admit—he was a dangerous-looking adversary. As large and strong a man as she’d ever seen. And yet there was that soft wave of his rook-black hair … and the thick lashes surrounding his emerald-colored eyes … and the small dent in the middle of his chin … and his lips, which had a beautiful, soft sheen to them. His height was an instantly fascinating feature, and a question mark hung in the air as to how much of him was proportionate to his size. Serena’s thoughts began to traipse down a forbidden path. If he took it into his head to take advantage of her, Serena was not entirely certain she would object.
He stood up, depriving her of his presence. She swallowed hard, instantly missing the fortress of muscle that had surrounded her. He walked around her room, pounding his gloved fists upon the papered walls.
“Inspecting the structure for rot?” she asked, lacing the question with sarcasm.
He cast a sidewise glance at her. “I’m listening for hollowness. These old houses are full of false walls and trapdoors.”
She shook her head. “I keep telling you. There is nothing to fear.”
“I’m sorry ye think so.”
He crouched down to inspect the lock on her door.
“Satisfied?” she said, a smug tone to her voice.
A crease deepened between his brows. “Something’s not right.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a brass plaque on the outside of this door
Similar Books
