A Lass to Love (Brides of Scotland #1) - Tammy Andresen Page 0,14
was learning already. “I don’t care a wit about being a countess. Give me a good man with a nice life and kisses that make me toes curl.”
His entire body tightened. She was playing him. That was the only explanation because one kiss and he was tempted to declare himself the very man for the job. He’d never ever considered proposing before. He wrenched his mouth from hers, his breath ragged. “I think I can declare your lessons done,” he rasped. “Lord Exmouth doesn’t stand a chance.”
Chapter Eight
Fiona drew her brows together, trying to clear the confusion. Hadn’t her entire point been that she didn’t give a wit about lords? “Are we still talking about him? I want to talk about ye.”
Tom pulled back a bit, looking down, his eyes much harder than they’d been moments before. “You didn’t want lessons at all. You wanted a new fiancé.”
Her mouth dropped open as she stared. Was it true? She supposed it was. Silly fool of a girl trying to tame yet another rake. “I wanted to fulfill my end of the bargain. Remember that?” She stepped back too. “And if I were honest, I wanted to kiss ye. I’m going to marry him.” When had she decided that? “It’s the best fer my family. But I wanted one kiss before I did.”
Rather than pacify him, Tom seemed to grow angrier, his lip curling. “One kiss with the lowly merchant before you went off to give yourself to his lordship?”
Now that wasn’t going to stand and she grabbed his shirt front with both hands, pulling him closer. “One kiss with a man I actually wanted before I do my duty to my family,” she fired back, giving him a small push away. Then she turned. “But I’m sorry I did. I should have—”
His hand was at her waist and in a breath, he’d spun her and pulled her close. “Why are you going to England now?”
For a moment, she pushed against his chest but then Fiona relaxed into him. “Callum’s aunt died this past winter. I tried to write to him but how do ye say that to a man ye never even met. It’s so personal. And so, at first, I thought I’d deliver the news in person but then—” She drew in a deep breath. “The more I considered it, the more I realized that it was time I did something for me. This trip wasn’t going to just be for him.”
Tom buried his face in her neck. “I’m sorry about what I just said. It’s just those wounds we discussed last night. They run deep and—”
She understood. They both came with scars. “I’m sorry too. I wanted to have one kiss with a man that I thought actually wanted me. I’m tired of just being his duty. The obligation he’s been avoiding.”
He nuzzled her neck. “He’s a fool if he doesn’t see you’re so much more than that.”
She tightened her grip around his neck. “Enough about me. This is supposed to be about ye too. Why don’t ye tell me what happened with this woman?”
He inhaled another bracing breath. “The what isn’t important. I just need to be around a woman who doesn’t think I’m less for being just a merchant.”
Fiona grimaced as she slid her hands down his back. “Ye’re more. How can ye not see that? Exmouth avoids his duty, too busy gambling and carousing to be a man of true worth.”
He stilled. “You know about the gambling?”
Inwardly, she sighed. “Everyone kens.” Then she loosened her arms to lean back again. “How can that be a man who is superior to ye?”
He caressed her cheeks, cupping her face in his large palms. Then he leaned down and kissed her again. This time, the touch was light and so sweet it made her ache inside. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Ye’re welcome,” she answered wanting more from him. Wanting to lose herself in another kiss.
“I think it’s time for us to adjourn this meeting.” He took a slow step back.
She hugged herself, hating to watch him leave.
Even his choice of words made bile rise in her mouth. “If ye think it best.”
“I do.” He gestured for her to start walking. “Any more time alone and our lives will end up on a very different path.”
Fiona remained silent, but in her heart, she wondered if that was such a bad thing. Closing her eyes, she reminded herself Tom wasn’t the kind of man who wanted to marry. Which was worse,