"Lass," Lucy echoed, swallowing the lump in her throat.She had to get herself under control."Just Lucy.Lucy is fine."
At first, Ian hadn't trusted himself to speak.
The firelight behind her offered him a very detailed silhouette of her body beneath the thin cotton.
Nothing grandmotherly about that nightgown now.
It was so thin he could make out the shape of her underwear and see the two little bows sewn onto the hips.Jesus.He scrubbed a hand down his face.She was like some goddamn gift, standing there.Her brown hair hung in long disheveled waves, the light making a halo around her head.It was messy, her hair.In an after-sex kind of way.She had a smooth complexion, save for the purple bruise on her cheekbone, the prettiest damn mouth and the sweetest, most innocent eyes he'd ever seen.
And he was just standing there like an idiot, staring at amarriedwoman.
That cooled him down considerably and he pulled his gaze away from the sexy-as-hell peep show.
The steady thud of footsteps on the stairs beyond the library gave him the excuse he needed to get the hell out of there."Excuse me, Mrs.Brooks, I believe that's Hamish coming up with your bags."With barely a glance her way, he strode from the room before she could utter a reply.
In the hallway, he drew in a deep breath.
What the hell was wrong with him?His heart was pounding like a drum.
At the head of the stairs, he met Hamish and reached for the battered set of black luggage before Hamish could even clear the landing.
"Thank you, lad.I vow there's bricks in those sacks.I'll bring up the rest."
Exasperation blew through Ian like a frigid wind and he halted."There's more?"
Hamish cocked his head, his eyes going curious at Ian's overreaction."Aye.Just a handbag and that muddy sack and cap.Fran cleaned them up.You take that on along.I'll bring the rest."
Chapter 4
Lucy hurried to her room, hoping her interaction with Ian MacLaren would be extremely limited.She wasn't at all confident she could handle herself around the hunky Innkeeper.Before she knew it, she'd be throwing herself at him for the sexy accent alone.Or any number of reasons, really.
She leaned against her door.Get a hold of yourself, Walker.
With a groan, she grabbed the tartan afghan from the back of the chair, and wrapped it around her shoulders.She paced, biting her lip.For a moment, for just a brief blinding moment, Lucy thought she saw interest in his gaze, but then he couldn't seem to get out of the library fast enough.
Ian MacLaren needed a good review and nothing more.He wasn't interested in her that way.And why should he be?
Why should it even matter?
She was Mrs.Brooks, after all
The knock at the door made her jump.Her fingers clenched tighter around the afghan, knowing it was him and angry at the somersaults going on in her belly.She answered, and stood back as Ian entered with her bags.
"Now that you're up and about," he said, "I'd like to move you to one of our guest suites."
"Oh.No need.This room is fine."Lucy wanted to wince as soon as the words were out of her mouth.She was pretty sure Riley would have preferred the guest suite.She could tell by the way the muscle ticked in his jaw that he wasn't happy with her reply.Oddly, it gave her a nice shot of satisfaction.Revenge for him making her all hormonal.
"The east wing isn't really ready for guests right now, and—"
A man poked his head into the room."Here's the rest of yer things, lass."He took a tentative step inside, glancing speculatively from her to Ian, as he set her handbag, backpack, and the ridiculous cap on the dresser."Ye had these when Ian brought ye in.Fran cleaned the sack there."
"You're Hamish, right?"
"Aye."
"I appreciate you getting the car and my things."
"No trouble.Glad ta help.I'm just sorry for yer trouble."He eyed her bruise and then winked at her."If ye dinnae mind me saying, yer still a bonny sight."
