Read Online To Catch a Highlander by Karen Hawkins - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karen Hawkins
Ads: Link
first thing after breakfast." Oh, could she give him a tour! She couldn't wait.
Dougal picked up the carving knife and pointed at the roast. "Do you prefer burned or raw?"
"I'll have the burned portion, thank you."
"Excellent choice. The turnips will complement them perfectly." He winked at her and filled their plates with such amused spirits that Sophia found herself watching him through her lashes.
What was wrong with this man? Surely, he wasn't used to such horrid meals? Yet to watch him eat with such enthusiasm, you'd think he was starving.
Perhaps that was it. He'd said he was hungry after his journey, then there had been the delay of Red's accident. No wonder the man had been able to eat the horrid meal!
Dinner progressed, with Dougal asking questions about the house and lands. Sophia kept her answers as disparaging as possible, mixing in just enough actual facts to make her comments seem truthful.
Finally, Dougal placed his fork on his plate. "Are you finished? You haven't taken a bite."
"I had some bread and butter earlier, when Mary brought a tray for Red," Sophia lied. "I fear it quite spoiled my appetite. But you haven't eaten much, either."
"I ate so much soup, it filled me up."
Dougal stood and moved to her side of the table. "Allow me," he said, helping her slide back her chair.
As she stood, his hands brushed against her shoulders, and her skin tingled.
She glanced at him, wondering if he felt the same, and found him standing close. Much too close.
He bent, his lips by her ear. "My dear Sophia, I realize you must spend some time with your father, but can I entice you to have a glass of sherry with me before you retire?" He traced a finger down her cheek. "It would make the horror of the library almost bearable."
It would also provide a chance to test his boundaries and discover his feelings about a game of chance.
Keep your eyes on the prize, Sophie
.
She smiled up at Dougal. "A bit of sherry would be just the thing. I can imagine nothing more pleasant."
His lips were but a few inches from hers. She found herself looking directly into his eyes, dark green with faint swirls of gray, his lashes shadowing them mysteriously.
Sophia's breath caught in her throat. She had to fight the urge to lean forward, ever so slightly, and press her lips to his hard, carved ones.
Her chest tightened. All she had to do was—
The door banged open, and Sophia jumped as Mary swept in, Angus hard on her heels. He gave Sophia an apologetic gesture. "Mary thought ye might be finished with dinner."
"Mary is correct. Lord MacLean and I will have some sherry in the library." She looked meaningfully at Angus. "I trust the fireplace has been prepared?"
Angus beamed. "Aye, it should just be catching proper-like now. Yes, indeed." He gave her a broad wink.
She almost winced at his obvious hint, glancing back to find Dougal regarding her with an urbane smile, nothing in his expression showing that he had understood Angus.
Relieved, she allowed him to escort her to the library. Her fingers rested on his arm, and she was amazed at the muscles she felt through the fine cloth of his coat. Were all men of fashion so strong?
Dougal looked down on Sophia's golden curls as she kept her gaze pinned on his forearm. In all his days, he couldn't remember being so amused. He still wasn't certain what MacFarlane and his tempting daughter were trying to do, begging him to stay and then making his visit so inhospitable, but he'd be damned if he'd leave before he found out.
His gaze dropped to the line of her neck and down to the tempting breasts mounded above that cream-colored lace. Whoever had made her bronze gown had known how to tempt a man; it showed just enough—and hid just enough—to make a man yearn to rip it off.
They entered the library, where a small fire was just catching in the fireplace. The room was still inordinately chilly, the colors and furnishings still dark and oppressive. But as Sophia entered, it seemed as
Dougal picked up the carving knife and pointed at the roast. "Do you prefer burned or raw?"
"I'll have the burned portion, thank you."
"Excellent choice. The turnips will complement them perfectly." He winked at her and filled their plates with such amused spirits that Sophia found herself watching him through her lashes.
What was wrong with this man? Surely, he wasn't used to such horrid meals? Yet to watch him eat with such enthusiasm, you'd think he was starving.
Perhaps that was it. He'd said he was hungry after his journey, then there had been the delay of Red's accident. No wonder the man had been able to eat the horrid meal!
Dinner progressed, with Dougal asking questions about the house and lands. Sophia kept her answers as disparaging as possible, mixing in just enough actual facts to make her comments seem truthful.
Finally, Dougal placed his fork on his plate. "Are you finished? You haven't taken a bite."
"I had some bread and butter earlier, when Mary brought a tray for Red," Sophia lied. "I fear it quite spoiled my appetite. But you haven't eaten much, either."
"I ate so much soup, it filled me up."
Dougal stood and moved to her side of the table. "Allow me," he said, helping her slide back her chair.
As she stood, his hands brushed against her shoulders, and her skin tingled.
She glanced at him, wondering if he felt the same, and found him standing close. Much too close.
He bent, his lips by her ear. "My dear Sophia, I realize you must spend some time with your father, but can I entice you to have a glass of sherry with me before you retire?" He traced a finger down her cheek. "It would make the horror of the library almost bearable."
It would also provide a chance to test his boundaries and discover his feelings about a game of chance.
Keep your eyes on the prize, Sophie
.
She smiled up at Dougal. "A bit of sherry would be just the thing. I can imagine nothing more pleasant."
His lips were but a few inches from hers. She found herself looking directly into his eyes, dark green with faint swirls of gray, his lashes shadowing them mysteriously.
Sophia's breath caught in her throat. She had to fight the urge to lean forward, ever so slightly, and press her lips to his hard, carved ones.
Her chest tightened. All she had to do was—
The door banged open, and Sophia jumped as Mary swept in, Angus hard on her heels. He gave Sophia an apologetic gesture. "Mary thought ye might be finished with dinner."
"Mary is correct. Lord MacLean and I will have some sherry in the library." She looked meaningfully at Angus. "I trust the fireplace has been prepared?"
Angus beamed. "Aye, it should just be catching proper-like now. Yes, indeed." He gave her a broad wink.
She almost winced at his obvious hint, glancing back to find Dougal regarding her with an urbane smile, nothing in his expression showing that he had understood Angus.
Relieved, she allowed him to escort her to the library. Her fingers rested on his arm, and she was amazed at the muscles she felt through the fine cloth of his coat. Were all men of fashion so strong?
Dougal looked down on Sophia's golden curls as she kept her gaze pinned on his forearm. In all his days, he couldn't remember being so amused. He still wasn't certain what MacFarlane and his tempting daughter were trying to do, begging him to stay and then making his visit so inhospitable, but he'd be damned if he'd leave before he found out.
His gaze dropped to the line of her neck and down to the tempting breasts mounded above that cream-colored lace. Whoever had made her bronze gown had known how to tempt a man; it showed just enough—and hid just enough—to make a man yearn to rip it off.
They entered the library, where a small fire was just catching in the fireplace. The room was still inordinately chilly, the colors and furnishings still dark and oppressive. But as Sophia entered, it seemed as
Similar Books
