from keeping a wary eye out during the journey in case his carriage was followed. He had seen no indication that it had been.
Nevertheless, Sin was relieved the carriage journey was over, not just because of that fear they might be followed to Scotland by the assassin, but also because it had been torture to spend so many hours alone with Fliss and not make love to her. But neither his carriage nor one of those roadside inns where they’d spent their nights was where Sin wanted to make love to her. She deserved better than that.
He had learned more about her in this journey than he thought even she realized. Her duty to her overly strict parents. Her fitting in with the dictates of Society. Her liking and respect, but not love, for the man her parents had chosen to be her husband. Duty, liking, and respect. They seemed to have been the ruling emotions in Fliss’s uneventful life to date.
Sin wanted to introduce her to a world without rules. A world where they might share and enjoy every possible pleasure of the flesh. Where she might at last allow that wildness which Sin sensed in her to fly free.
He imagined seeing her walk barefoot along the shoreline in the secluded bay beneath the castle. Letting her hair loose and seeing the color in her cheeks as they walked amid the heather. Her skirts rucked up to her thighs as they rode bareback through the waves crashing against the sand. Taking her out onto those waves on his ship, her face turned into the wind, her dark hair blowing loose about her shoulders.
But before doing any of those things, he intended keeping his promise to warm her bottom.
And if Fliss thought he had forgotten that during the long journey here, she was about to learn he had not.
“You have a beautiful home,” Fliss complimented when she joined Sin in the library for afternoon tea.
All the castle household staff had been lined up to greet their laird—Sin truly was a laird, and a much-loved one from the open affection shown toward him as he addressed each servant by name. He introduced Fliss only as Mrs. Randall, here on her first ever visit to Scotland. If there had been speculation in several of the curious pairs of eyes looking at her, it was not a curiosity Sin intended to satisfy.
The elderly housekeeper, a Mrs. Campbell, had been the one to show Fliss up to the suite of rooms she was to occupy during her stay, Sin having made arrangements to meet Fliss for tea before he retired to his study with his steward. No doubt, with Sin in London and his cousin Ranulf, who managed the estate, away on his honeymoon for several months, there would be many estate matters for the two of them to discuss.
Fliss’s rooms were extremely comfortable and looked out over the sea. It was calm today, but she could easily imagine it during winter, gray and white, the waves high and crashing onto the shoreline.
It filled her with a sense of anticipation. Excitement. Freedom .
Fliss could never remember a time when she was not answerable to another for her actions. Her parents. Stephen. Society. Up here in the Scottish Highlands, far away from those other responsibilities, the world seemed full of possibilities.
And Sin.
She felt the stamp of his presence everywhere. In the castle. The grounds. Out on the heathland she had seen on their arrival. He was a part of it all, as untamed and rugged as the land he came from.
He stood up now at her entrance before moving around to lean back against the front of his imposing oak desk. “Your rooms are to your liking?”
“Very much.” Fliss approved of this room too. It served as a library as well as Sin’s study, and she could easily imagine herself curled up in a chair next to the fire reading while Sin attended to the paperwork on his desk, the two of them sharing a companionable silence.
It was a ridiculous fantasy. Sin had brought her here only in order to protect her, and it was foolish of her to imagine it was for any other reason. Once he heard from
Nevertheless, Sin was relieved the carriage journey was over, not just because of that fear they might be followed to Scotland by the assassin, but also because it had been torture to spend so many hours alone with Fliss and not make love to her. But neither his carriage nor one of those roadside inns where they’d spent their nights was where Sin wanted to make love to her. She deserved better than that.
He had learned more about her in this journey than he thought even she realized. Her duty to her overly strict parents. Her fitting in with the dictates of Society. Her liking and respect, but not love, for the man her parents had chosen to be her husband. Duty, liking, and respect. They seemed to have been the ruling emotions in Fliss’s uneventful life to date.
Sin wanted to introduce her to a world without rules. A world where they might share and enjoy every possible pleasure of the flesh. Where she might at last allow that wildness which Sin sensed in her to fly free.
He imagined seeing her walk barefoot along the shoreline in the secluded bay beneath the castle. Letting her hair loose and seeing the color in her cheeks as they walked amid the heather. Her skirts rucked up to her thighs as they rode bareback through the waves crashing against the sand. Taking her out onto those waves on his ship, her face turned into the wind, her dark hair blowing loose about her shoulders.
But before doing any of those things, he intended keeping his promise to warm her bottom.
And if Fliss thought he had forgotten that during the long journey here, she was about to learn he had not.
“You have a beautiful home,” Fliss complimented when she joined Sin in the library for afternoon tea.
All the castle household staff had been lined up to greet their laird—Sin truly was a laird, and a much-loved one from the open affection shown toward him as he addressed each servant by name. He introduced Fliss only as Mrs. Randall, here on her first ever visit to Scotland. If there had been speculation in several of the curious pairs of eyes looking at her, it was not a curiosity Sin intended to satisfy.
The elderly housekeeper, a Mrs. Campbell, had been the one to show Fliss up to the suite of rooms she was to occupy during her stay, Sin having made arrangements to meet Fliss for tea before he retired to his study with his steward. No doubt, with Sin in London and his cousin Ranulf, who managed the estate, away on his honeymoon for several months, there would be many estate matters for the two of them to discuss.
Fliss’s rooms were extremely comfortable and looked out over the sea. It was calm today, but she could easily imagine it during winter, gray and white, the waves high and crashing onto the shoreline.
It filled her with a sense of anticipation. Excitement. Freedom .
Fliss could never remember a time when she was not answerable to another for her actions. Her parents. Stephen. Society. Up here in the Scottish Highlands, far away from those other responsibilities, the world seemed full of possibilities.
And Sin.
She felt the stamp of his presence everywhere. In the castle. The grounds. Out on the heathland she had seen on their arrival. He was a part of it all, as untamed and rugged as the land he came from.
He stood up now at her entrance before moving around to lean back against the front of his imposing oak desk. “Your rooms are to your liking?”
“Very much.” Fliss approved of this room too. It served as a library as well as Sin’s study, and she could easily imagine herself curled up in a chair next to the fire reading while Sin attended to the paperwork on his desk, the two of them sharing a companionable silence.
It was a ridiculous fantasy. Sin had brought her here only in order to protect her, and it was foolish of her to imagine it was for any other reason. Once he heard from
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