Some Like it Scottish by Patience Griffin Page B

a room with an honorable man such as myself. But if you can’t”—he dug in his pocket and produced the keys to the SUV—“then you can sleep in the auto.”
    â€œOh. You—”
    Grinning, he turned her toward the door and shoved her through. “I’ll be outside in a second to help you with the bags.”
    She trudged to the SUV, worrying over things she normally had no need to worry over.
    A naked man under the sheets, for one.
    She’d seen enough of his bare chest and imagined enough of the rest of him to make her drool. No, yearn to run her hands over his hard chest. She put her hand on the SUV and shook her head.
    â€œHere.” His warm breath played with the hair on her neck. He handed her the room key over her shoulder. “I need to take care of something. I’ll meet you back at
our
room later.”
    She turned around just in time to see him walk off. “If you think I’m lugging your bags up the stairs for you, you have another think coming, mister.”
    He waved to her without a backward glance.
    *   *   *
    Ramsay walked away, needing a break from Kit. What the hell had he been thinking? Sharing a room with the American lass was dangerous. Not to mention counterproductive to getting his boat. He was too damned impulsive for his own good. He should’ve slept in the car as she’d suggested.
    He headed down the street to the crowd forming outside the mercantile. Men were signing up at a table, registering for the Highland games.
    He needed to burn off some steam. A lot of steam. The matchmaker made his blood hot. He got in line.
    She didn’t know it yet, but he’d stayed behind and booked the room for two nights with the old woman, instead of one. It shouldn’t be too hard to convince Kit to stay an extra day with the lure of all the strapping Scots in their kilts. But he would make sure none of the lads here would sign on with her, either.
    He smiled to himself. Today had been a bust for her and he hadn’t even had to lift a finger. The potato farmer had bungled it nicely just by being himself.
    When it was Ramsay’s turn, he filled out the form and laid out his money—money well spent. Anything to bring himself back to normal.
To neutral
. Since he’d met Kit, she’d been on his mind too often. He never let just one woman dominate his thoughts. Keeping it loose had always been his style. But Kit had a way of invading his every pore. The caber toss and the hammer throw should eradicate her from his mind.
    As he walked back to the boardinghouse, he had a brilliant idea. So far, nothing had deterred the American lass from her plans. Maybe he needed to use his size and his manliness to scare the wits out of her—so much so, that she would take the first flight out of Scotland to get away from him.
    He hurried back to the boardinghouse, eager to put his plan into action. Now, his impulsiveness didn’t seem like a bad thing. They were going to be sequestered in the same room. He’d corner her, pour on the charm, andmaybe even lean in for a kiss. That should be just enough to scare her back to the States.
    Back inside the house, he took the steps two at a time and found their room. He didn’t knock, but sauntered in, feeling cool and confident, in complete control.
    Kit jumped when she saw him.
Good. She’s already on the defensive.
    He walked toward her, soaking in her body, pouring on the heat, until her blush took over her face. She pushed that brown hair of hers back, even though it was barely long enough to do so. He frowned, thinking how he liked long hair. Long enough he could wrap his hands in.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” Her voice was hoarse with emotion.
    He shifted his gaze from her hair to her eyes. And along the way, he noticed her blush had kicked up another notch.
Aye
. He would throw her off guard by giving her a false sense of security. Keep the conversation