McGillivray's Mistress - By Anne McAllister Page 0,26

that he would leave without her.

Not a chance, sweetheart.

Fiona was coming to dinner tonight if he had to clean her up and make her presentable himself! Actually, he thought with a grin, that wouldn’t be much of a hardship. And it would serve her right for dumping him in the water last time they’d had dinner together.

He was grinning in anticipation as he went up the steps and pounded on her door.

So it was a bit of a shock to have it opened promptly by a stunning redhead wearing an emerald-green silk dress who smiled brightly at him.

“Right on time,” Fiona said cheerfully. “Let’s go.” And she pulled the door shut behind her and, without even looking his way, headed briskly down the steps.

Lachlan stared after her, feeling gut-punched.

Where the hell had she got a dress like that? And what was it Hugh had said about Fiona Dunbar being an innocent?

No innocent had ever worn a dress like that one! It was cut low in the back and displayed acres of gorgeous golden freckled skin. The dress nipped in at the waist and flared at the hips, swinging lightly around her legs as she walked. Two thin straps were all that held it up in front, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Lachlan sucked air. It made his mouth dry just watching her. So much for cleaning her up and making her presentable.

He vaulted down the steps and hurried after her.

“Change of heart?” he drawled as he caught up with her near the straw shop. He tried to breathe normally.

She slanted him a glance. “What?”

“You didn’t want to come, as I recall,” he said, dodging around three boys kicking a ball in the street and falling into step beside her.

Fiona shrugged. “I decided I’d like to meet a real live lord.”

He frowned at that, undecided if she was joking. He’d never thought Fiona Dunbar would be impressed by a title. But then he’d never thought Fiona Dunbar would own a dress like that either.

“Maybe you can sculpt him,” Lachlan said.

Fiona smiled. “Now there’s a thought.”

“You’d better not suggest it,” he said quickly in case she thought he was serious. “We want him to come here. For that matter I’d just as soon you didn’t mention our, um…your, um, sculpting to anyone.”

“Really? Why?” Fiona said guilelessly. Then, before he could reply, she burst out laughing. “I won’t be telling anyone, believe me. It’s our secret.” She glanced up toward the top of the hill. “Look. There’re Nathan and Carin. Is that Lord Grantham with them?”

Lachlan saw three people turning into Pineapple Street. “Yes.”

“Ah.” It sounded like a sigh of appreciation.

Lachlan gave her a narrow look. “What’s that mean?”

“He’s very nice.” Fiona grinned. “Very nice indeed. Julie will be pleased.”

“Huh?”

But Fiona just shook her head. “Nothing.”

What was it with women, anyway? Couldn’t they just say what they meant?

What it meant, he began to discover, was that Fiona liked David Grantham. And the feeling seemed to be mutual.

Lachlan had barely introduced them—“Fiona, David, Lord Grantham. Dave, this is Fiona”—and they were talking like old friends.

“Fantastic piece of art on the beach,” Grantham enthused, taking Fiona’s hand as if he had a right to it. “Don’t you think so?” he said to Lachlan.

“Memorable,” Lachlan said, refusing to look into Fiona’s laughing eyes.

“Absolutely,” Grantham went on, taking her by the arm and drawing her with him as he followed Carin and Nathan up the steps toward the restaurant. “It’s incredible the way you’ve used just whatever came to hand. Everything that came in on the tide, is that right?”

“Almost everything,” Lachlan heard her reply. “Although there was a bit of censorship at one point.”

“Censorship?” Grantham looked askance.

“What censorship?” Nathan demanded.

“You never told me about that,” Carin said to Fiona.

“Well, I—”

Lachlan intervened, pushing past them to grab the door, pulling it open and holding it for them all to go in. “There are some things that float in on the tide,” he said firmly, “that are best not displayed in a public forum.”

“Oh,” Carin said. Her cheeks colored. “Of course. I never thought…” She gave him an embarrassed smile and hurried past him into the restaurant. Nathan followed, and Grantham with Fiona.

“And there are other things which could be and aren’t,” Fiona murmured for his ears alone as she sashayed past.

“Well, I say it’s marvelous,” Grantham said heartily. “Eye-catching. We’ll feature it on the tour brochure.”

“Feature it?” Fiona stared.

Lachlan’s teeth came together.

“Why not? It’s perfect,” Grantham went