punishment for the morning’s transgression, then God had a far more wicked sense of humor than he had ever guessed.
As the carriage bounced through another rut, he was the one forced to clench his teeth against a moan. Despite his reputation, he’d never had any problem controlling his lust when it suited him. Perhaps he was simply suffering from the novelty of denying himself a woman he wanted.
He brushed a curl from the downy softness of her cheek. The silky tendril twined around his finger as if to ensnare him.
He realized in that moment exactly what he had to do if he was to escape this woman with his heart unscathed. She’d promised to split the dowry with him after they were wed. Once she did, it would be easy enough for him to steal away. She might despise him for the charlatan he was, but at least he would have escorted her as far as the Scottish border. She could use the rest of the dowry to get her to the Highlands and into her brother’s waiting arms.
As for him, he would forget all about his London debts and use the money to flee to the Continent, where some hot-blooded Italian countess or swarthy Greek beauty would welcome him into her arms and bed and make him forget all about Catriona Kincaid with her misty gray eyes and ridiculous freckles.
******************
Catriona drifted into wakefulness with a hand playing gently in her hair. She kept her eyes pressed firmly shut, luxuriating in the novel sensation. Her uncle’s family had prided themselves on their newly won English reserve. They rarely touched one another and—unless one could count Alice’s stinging pinches—they never touched her.
The hand tenderly sifting through her loosened curls stirred long-buried childhood memories. Memories of her father hefting her over his head as if she weighed no more than a feather. Memories of her brother rumpling her freshly braided hair just to make her squeal in protest. Memories of sitting before the fire in their cottage with her mother stroking a brush through her unruly curls until Catriona nodded off and her papa arrived to carry her off to bed.
She sighed and nestled deeper into her pillow, feeling cherished and secure for the first time since the English soldiers had come and wrenched away both her family and her future, leaving her with nothing but a hollow ache where they had been.
A man’s husky whisper brushed like velvet across her ear. “Wake up, sleeping beauty. It’s time to find you a proper bed.”
Catriona’s eyes flew open in horror as she realized the hand deftly tucking a wayward curl behind her ear belonged to Simon and the pillow beneath her cheek wasn’t a pillow at all but his muscular thigh.
No matter how tempting the prospect had seemed earlier, she couldn’t believe she had been so foolish as to crawl into his lap. What if she had murmured something both idiotic and incriminating in her sleep—something like, Kiss me, darling , or I think I might love you ?
She sat up so fast she bumped her head on his chin hard enough to make her see stars.
“Ow!” Rubbing his jaw, he eyed her warily. “I haven’t taken a shot to the jaw like that since the last time I boxed at Gentleman Jackson’s.”
“I’m terribly sorry.” Desperate to escape him, she lurched away and fumbled around on the shadow-draped seats in search of her bonnet. When her hands seized upon something soft, an offended “Mrrwwww” warned her that she had found the cat instead.
“Looking for this?”
She straightened to find Simon dangling the bonnet from one long, elegant finger.
“Thank you very much,” she said stiffly, seizing the hat and clapping it on her head.
“Shall I make arrangements for our lodgings?” he offered, reaching over and turning the bonnet around so that its saucy little velvet-trimmed brim would be facing forward instead of backward.
She brushed his hands away. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll take care of everything while you arrange for our bags to be
As the carriage bounced through another rut, he was the one forced to clench his teeth against a moan. Despite his reputation, he’d never had any problem controlling his lust when it suited him. Perhaps he was simply suffering from the novelty of denying himself a woman he wanted.
He brushed a curl from the downy softness of her cheek. The silky tendril twined around his finger as if to ensnare him.
He realized in that moment exactly what he had to do if he was to escape this woman with his heart unscathed. She’d promised to split the dowry with him after they were wed. Once she did, it would be easy enough for him to steal away. She might despise him for the charlatan he was, but at least he would have escorted her as far as the Scottish border. She could use the rest of the dowry to get her to the Highlands and into her brother’s waiting arms.
As for him, he would forget all about his London debts and use the money to flee to the Continent, where some hot-blooded Italian countess or swarthy Greek beauty would welcome him into her arms and bed and make him forget all about Catriona Kincaid with her misty gray eyes and ridiculous freckles.
******************
Catriona drifted into wakefulness with a hand playing gently in her hair. She kept her eyes pressed firmly shut, luxuriating in the novel sensation. Her uncle’s family had prided themselves on their newly won English reserve. They rarely touched one another and—unless one could count Alice’s stinging pinches—they never touched her.
The hand tenderly sifting through her loosened curls stirred long-buried childhood memories. Memories of her father hefting her over his head as if she weighed no more than a feather. Memories of her brother rumpling her freshly braided hair just to make her squeal in protest. Memories of sitting before the fire in their cottage with her mother stroking a brush through her unruly curls until Catriona nodded off and her papa arrived to carry her off to bed.
She sighed and nestled deeper into her pillow, feeling cherished and secure for the first time since the English soldiers had come and wrenched away both her family and her future, leaving her with nothing but a hollow ache where they had been.
A man’s husky whisper brushed like velvet across her ear. “Wake up, sleeping beauty. It’s time to find you a proper bed.”
Catriona’s eyes flew open in horror as she realized the hand deftly tucking a wayward curl behind her ear belonged to Simon and the pillow beneath her cheek wasn’t a pillow at all but his muscular thigh.
No matter how tempting the prospect had seemed earlier, she couldn’t believe she had been so foolish as to crawl into his lap. What if she had murmured something both idiotic and incriminating in her sleep—something like, Kiss me, darling , or I think I might love you ?
She sat up so fast she bumped her head on his chin hard enough to make her see stars.
“Ow!” Rubbing his jaw, he eyed her warily. “I haven’t taken a shot to the jaw like that since the last time I boxed at Gentleman Jackson’s.”
“I’m terribly sorry.” Desperate to escape him, she lurched away and fumbled around on the shadow-draped seats in search of her bonnet. When her hands seized upon something soft, an offended “Mrrwwww” warned her that she had found the cat instead.
“Looking for this?”
She straightened to find Simon dangling the bonnet from one long, elegant finger.
“Thank you very much,” she said stiffly, seizing the hat and clapping it on her head.
“Shall I make arrangements for our lodgings?” he offered, reaching over and turning the bonnet around so that its saucy little velvet-trimmed brim would be facing forward instead of backward.
She brushed his hands away. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll take care of everything while you arrange for our bags to be
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