Page 45 of Not Quite a Scot

“Ah, Duchess.” He followed me easily. There wasn’t much room for retreat in this tiny house.

When his arms came around me from behind, I stiffened. I wanted this too badly to botch things a second time. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Hugging you?”

“Doesn’t that seem kind of personal?”

“You don’t like hugs?”

Come to think of it, I didn’t. Except with Willow and Hayley, I wasn’t very good at physical affection. Even now, my heart raced and my forehead was damp. Finley surrounded me with his presence…his scent, his touch. I felt him tall and warm at my back. His strong arms held me firmly. I knew I could break free if I wanted to. That wasn’t the problem.

My dilemma was wanting so much more. Calmly, I dried my hands on a dishtowel and turned around. “Hugs are okay,” I said, searching his eyes for the answers to questions I hadn’t even asked yet. “I think with you I prefer them this way.”

I pressed a fingertip to the center of his bottom lip. When he trembled, I was torn between astonishment and euphoria. He wanted me.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple moving noticeably. “Whatcha doin’ there, Duchess?”

It had been a very long time since I felt such a rush of sexual hunger. I wanted to gobble him up. “We may be trapped here forever,” I said softly. “Wouldn’t that be terrible?”

He kissed my nose. “Awful, Duchess. Impossible, maybe.”

“People in times of crisis have to survive the best they can.”

“True.” He shuddered when I nipped his chin with my teeth.

I was playing a game that wasn’t fair to either of us. “Tell me to stop,” I said breathlessly.

He bit my earlobe. “Stop.”

“That was about the most unconvincing command I’ve ever heard.” Was I using Finley because I was scared to be alone? Or did this odd and unexpected connection have a future?

His voice came out muffled because he was kissing every inch of my neck. Only the collar of my pajama top stopped him. “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday,” he groaned. “Forgive me, Duchess.”

“You’ve already apologized,” I pointed out, though I couldn’t help being gratified by his groveling.

“I need you to know I mean it. When I take you to bed it won’t be what I said.”

“Fucking?”

He put his hand over my mouth, clearly not amused. “I said I was sorry. I want to make love to you, McKenzie. But not tonight. I need you to know that when it does happen it means something more to me than a quick roll in the hay. So while we’re stuck here with each other, let’s see how far we can get.”

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