The Laird Who Loved Me by Karen Hawkins Read Free Book Online

into my life, and … I just
let
her.
    A slow, simmering anger rippled through him, and he was vaguely aware that in the distance a rumble of thunder answered his anger. “Miss Hurst,” he called down the stairs, “a word of warning. The Roxburge cellars are famous for their variety. Perhaps you should request lemonade with dinner, as anything stronger might send you tumbling into someone’s arms.”
    Caitlyn’s brown eyes sparkled with anger, her expression tight. “Thank you for your
concern
for my safety, Lord MacLean, but I will not imbibe more than is prudent. I never do.”
    “Never?” he asked softly.
    He and Caitlyn locked gazes, and to his utter consternation, a slow, simmering heat began to thrum through him, building every time her breasts rose and fell, pressing against the fine silk ball gown. Manywomen did not look so beautiful when they were angered. Somehow he’d forgotten exactly how sensually gorgeous she was and it was a bit disconcerting to face her again. His body was anything but immune to the sight of her.
    Dervishton cleared his throat. “Miss Hurst, should I—”
    She yanked her gaze from Alexander and smiled blindingly at Dervishton. “Let’s continue down to where the duchess and other guests are waiting, please.”
    “Of course,” Dervishton murmured, sending Alexander a bright, curious look.
    Alexander watched them go, his hand so tightly clasped on the railing that his fingers grew numb. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Caitlyn glanced back, her eyes sparkling with fury. Alexander had the impression that with very little more goading, she would pummel him with her clenched fists.
    Which was exactly what he wanted. The thought made him relax. He simply needed to remain more removed and keep his passions at bay. He already knew her weakness: vanity. All he had to do was keep pressing, keep taunting, and she would do the rest. God, he would enjoy this battle! Enjoy waging it and savor winning it.
    Still, he had a momentary feeling that something had changed since the last time he’d seen her three months ago. Had she been so obviously goaded before, she would have responded in kind. Her quick passion was what had attracted him to begin with. Somany London misses were mild lemonade and stale cake; Caitlyn Hurst was spicy mulled wine and rich, delicate pastry.
    He watched her walk toward the drawing room holding Dervishton’s arm, her hips swaying beneath her flowing gown. To the casual observer she appeared unaffected by their conversation, but he knew better. He could tell she was upset, for as Dervishton escorted her into the drawing room, her shoulders were lifted and her movements had lost some of their innate grace.
    As they disappeared, Alexander pushed himself from the railing and followed his quarry down the stairs. For Caitlyn Hurst, dinner would be a long, long affair.
    “Heavens, I’m exhausted! I can barely lift my feet.”
    Miss Ogilvie tucked Caitlyn’s hand into the crook of her arm as they reached the stair landing. “It’s no wonder you’re tired; it’s after midnight and you were traveling most of the day.”
    “We were on the road before dawn, too. Then, dinner went on forever.”
    “There must have been ten courses.”
    “There were twelve! I counted.” And each had been delicious. The food Cook prepared at the vicarage was good country fare and none went hungry, but oh, the delights offered at the duchess’s table tonight were beyond extraordinary. Caitlyn would write Mary firstthing in the morning and share the details of her first night at Balloch Castle. Between the sumptuous meal, the luxurious setting, and the exalted company, there was plenty to entertain her family as they gathered to read in the evening.
    Naturally she’d eschew any mention of Alexander MacLean or the duchess. Some things didn’t fit on mere paper. Pushing her thoughts aside, Caitlyn smiled tiredly at Miss Ogilvie. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had such a