I want to kiss ye everywhere.
She very much wanted that as well.
And all yesterday, she’d subtly tried to convince him to kiss her again.
To take her in his arms and use his fingers and tongue on her again, to bring her to that peak of pleasure so much higher than anything she’d experienced herself. She wanted to experience that again and again and again.
But, being Bonnie, subtlety wasn’t her strong suit. The flirting and preening which came so naturally to her sister Tiffany felt false and wrong when Bonnie did it. When she touched her neck, the way Tiffany did, hoping to draw Lyon’s attention to her bare skin, or when she batted her eyelashes at him, he asked if she was feeling well.
She didn’t know a lot about flirtation, but she suspected coming right out and asking a man to bring you to orgasm again was considered improper.
Damn it.
All yesterday, Bonnie had asked herself if shecaredwhat was considered proper, if doing the opposite would result in another kiss from Lyon. But ultimately, she took the coward’s way and tried subtlety.
Which hadn’t worked.
But shewasrewarded with a beautiful day spent in his company, so that was nice. Instead of kissing—or more—the two had spent time in the library and his study, where he avoided her eyes as he sketched the two tamest pieces of needlework, and he reallywasremarkably good at reproduction.
He had knelt in front of the hearth and built the fire, and she hadn’t had to pretend she wasn’t admiring his arse. Then he’d settled into one of the plush chairs with a pair of books on mechanics, while she’d darted around the library, collecting stacks of books which intrigued her.
And when she plopped into the opposite chair, another dozen unrelated tomes balanced on her lap, he looked up and finally met her eyes. Miracle of miracles, he’dsmiled.
She knew she’d hold the memory of that smile in her heart as long as she held the memory of that kiss.
But now Lysander was there to take her away.
“I’m sorry,” he was saying as he served himself, “I delayed as long as possible, but the roads are completely passable now.”
Bonnie caught Lyon’s eyes, but he winced and looked away.
Did he regret the time they’d spent together? Was helooking forward to her leaving so he could get back to his normal life?
Was the wince because he wanted her gone?
“We’ve let yer mother think ye’ve been with us all this time, Bonnie.” Lysander was enthusiastically cutting up a sausage. “Tiffany wanted to give ye every opportunity to study Lyon’s sources.” The somber way he said it, with no hint of teasing, as his attention was locked on breakfast, made it more of an innuendo. “But she kenned yer mother would throw a wobbler if she kenned ye’ve been staying in Auld Oliphant Castle without a chaperone.”
Numbly, Bonnie nodded. Aye, her mother would likely do her best to convince the world Bonnie had been compromised beyond hope, merely to force poor Lyon to marry her.
Marry Lyon.
Her chest tightened at the thought. She imagined what it would be like to spend her evenings in that library, or to go with him to the loch to bathe. She imagined running her publishing business from his study and sharing more wonderful kisses.
Sharing his bed.
He would touch her then, touch her with those beautiful hands which had brought her such pleasure for so short a time. She’d come apart in his arms, each night, because?—
Nay. She hadn’t come here to marry Lyon Oliphant, and there was nothing—nothing—in his actions during the last days which conveyed he wanted to marry her.
That kiss didn’t count. She’d been doing her best to tease him after all, and to push him into doing something so delightful. He’d likely only kissed her because she was there and practically offering herself to him. Oh, and because he’d lost the chess game.
“This food is delicious!” Lysander reached for another helping. “Yer cook has certainly improved.”
“Nay, we just got a new one,” offered Keith. “Mrs. Oliphant replaced Mrs. Oliphant.”
“Of course.” Lysander glanced at Lyon, who had crossed his arms over his chest and was now glaring at his untouched food. “So…um.” He cleared his throat and glanced at Bonnie. “Will ye be ready to go after breakfast?”
Would she? Would she ever be ready to go?
