Smitten by the Spinster (19 page)

She gasped out the breath she’d been holding and loosened her grip on the bedclothes, everything swirling back as Quinn moved his tongue in slow rhythm.

“Oh, God,” she said to the ceiling as she reached for his shoulders, needing a tether, wanting to feel his strong arms.

“Quinn will suffice,” he said with a sideways grin, returning to his exquisite teasing.

She started a laugh, but it ended in a squeak when he increased his pressure and she dug her fingers into his arms. “You’re killing me,” she said.

He shook his head and pulled her closer, while she arched her back and finally let go. Of her fears and worries and hopes, of the character she’d grown to hate. Of everything except what she felt that moment, of …

“Quinn,” she said again, breathlessly, her hands melting from his shoulders, her entire body going limp into the mattress as tendrils of delicious pleasure unfurled from deep within her.

“I do love to hear ye say it,” he said, pulling himself up and lying down with his arm across her chest. He kissed her forehead and nestled beside her. “Well, goodnight lass.”

She rolled over with lightning speed and gaped at him. “Wait, what?” she asked. Then smacked him when she saw the teasing gleam in his eyes. “It would serve you right if I did just go to sleep.”

He leaned up on his elbow and kissed her shoulder, the side of her neck, then lingeringly on the mouth. His other hand traveled up her arm to find her breast, slowly rolling his thumb over her nipple.

“Well, ye can certainly try,” he murmured.

With a contented sigh, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

***

Lizzie nestled under his arm, resting her cheek against his hard chest. “Tell me a story, Quinn,” she said. She felt him turn his head to look down at her, but she kept her eyes closed.

“A story?” he repeated.

 She nodded and kissed his collarbone. She’d tried this before. It was a test of hers, a stupid one apparently, since no man ever rose to pass it. All she wanted was for someone to have the same love of imagination that she did. Her first boyfriend in college laughed at her and ignored the request. The second time she asked, her boyfriend at the time told her what he’d done that day at work. Trent had smacked her behind and said “There once was a girl who had a great ass. The end.”

“I shall tell ye a true tale,” he started, running his finger up and down her arm. “It’s quite fantastic, so ye probably willna believe me.”

“I’ll believe you,” she promised, feeling a shiver that had nothing to do with his trailing touch.

“Once there was a Scots warrior, who was also the leader of his clan.”

“Is this person you?” she interrupted.

Quinn poked her, then dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “No, ninny, it wasna me. Do ye think I’m the sort to tell a story about my own adventures? I’m far too modest for that.”

She giggled and nudged him to continue.

“The warrior traveled the countryside, generally making an arse of himself and leaving the running of his family farm to his handsome younger brother.”

“Ha! That has to be you,” she crowed.

“Aye, love, that’s me.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the careless endearment. She steadied her breathing. “Who’s the hero of this story? You or your brother?”

Quinn paused for several breaths and she feared he wouldn’t continue. Everything was perfect, exactly the way she’d always envisioned it should go. She hoped she hadn’t ruined it somehow.

“That remains to be seen, I suppose,” he said. “But back to it. The warrior was imprisoned by an unfriendly clan, and before he could be rescued, disappeared completely.” He paused again, this time for effect, and she gasped like she knew she was supposed to. “He was sent forward in time, to the verra distant future, by a witch.”

This time Lizzie’s gasp was quite real and she went still in his arms. He’d jokingly said it was a true story. Had he really been joking? The mention of a time traveling witch raised goosebumps all over her exposed skin. Was the witch in his story one of the ones Wodge had accused her of being in league with? She didn’t know how it could be anything else. He leaned up on one elbow and peered down at her, pushing her hair behind her ear and smoothing the gooseflesh on her arm.

“Are ye all right? Your heart is pounding,” he said worriedly. “I didna mean to frighten ye.”

She swallowed and forced all her muscles to relax, smiling waveringly at him. “I’m fine,” she said. “Tell me the rest.” She couldn’t keep the urgency out of her tone and he frowned before continuing.

“The witch sent him to the future, where another witch helped him to get back. He fell in love with that one and after many trials and tribulations, they were able to be together. But he had to leave his own time, and everything he owned, and his family.”

Lizzie took a long quiet breath. “Did they live happily ever after?” she asked.

“Who? The warrior and the witch, or his family he left behind?” The bitterness seeped into his voice and he shook his head. “I dinna know,” he said. “For either.”

Her heart hurt for him, at the same time as her mind reeled at his tale. The hard look on his face told her it was true. He smiled down at her then, clearly not expecting her to believe a word of it.

“I believe you,” she whispered, pulling herself up and leaning in to kiss him.

She wanted to say more, ask more questions, confess that she too was from the future. What a relief it would be to say the words and possibly have him believe her. Her thoughts tumbled over one another too fast to make any one come out in a way that would make sense.

“Shall I tell ye another?’ he asked, sliding his hand below the sheets to squeeze her hip. “About how much I like lying in bed with ye?”

She shook off her befuddled thoughts and sighed as his lips met her throat, already working their way downward. “Show me,” she said, holding onto him and forgetting everything else.

Catie paced the length of the sitting room, jumping at every noise that might wake her aunt, who sat dozing in a ray of sunlight like a plump cat. The needlework on her lap looked as if it might slide to the floor at the slightest twitch, but Catie didn’t dare go take it from her, afraid that might wake her as well.

She scooted closer to the door, praying Quinn and Miss Burnet wouldn’t decide to peek in at them. Neither one knew Edwin was due any moment, or they never would have left her alone. She glanced again at her aunt. If either her brother or her chaperone wandered past and saw Edwin, she’d just sneeze loudly enough to wake her, making it all perfectly proper.

She shoved aside the little squeeze of guilt she felt for orchestrating this visit. Catie made a point to go over all the things that fed her anger, an emotion that was much easier to deal with, especially since they’d become constant companions.

Hmmph, thinking of constant companions, her mind turned to Quinn and Miss Burnet. They’d practically been in each other’s laps since the overnight stay at the Hollingsborn estate. The hypocrites thought they were so subtle and clever, but she saw every stolen look and brush of the hand, and the sickening secretive smiles. It turned her stomach. She’d taken to waking up early so she could eat her breakfast without having to look at them.

Their dalliance might have been something she could overlook, after all, Quinn was notorious for his dalliances, but then Quinn went and told her he had real feelings for Miss Burnet. Ugh, he called her Lizzie now! He wanted to ask Lizzie to accompany him back to Scotland after she was settled, which she at first thought she could use to her advantage in getting him to give Edwin his blessing, but Quinn infuriatingly still refused.

Which brought her to the final draft of her plan, which she meant to set in motion if Edwin ever got here. If she really meant to marry him, she would speak to him about the importance of punctuality. She rolled her eyes as she peered down the hall toward the front entrance. If she meant to marry him, that was a laugh.

Finally, she heard the door open and the butler greet Edwin. She stood in the doorway and intercepted them before he loudly announced him, shooing the butler away. When she told him they would not be needing refreshments and he gave a suspicious look, she knew she’d gone too far, and her time was severely limited. That damn butler would be back with biscuits and tea despite her refusal, just to see what she was up to.

Her paranoia had never been higher, and she jumped again when Edwin made to take her hand in greeting.

“You look more lovely than ever,” he said, glancing at Lady Amberly, then smiling at Catie when he saw she was asleep.

“Thank ye, Edwin,” she said in response to his compliment.

She didn’t feel as if she looked lovely. She felt as if her hair stood on end. With forced calm, she led him to a seat far from her aunt. When he didn’t respond to her meaningful looks and prattled on about the weather, she finally placed her hand on his knee. That got his attention well enough and she swallowed hard. It was now or never.

“My brother told me he willna give his consent,” she said, forcing her eyes open wide until tears glistened. “What shall we do?”

Edwin furrowed his brow. “Perhaps I can speak to him again,” he said. “I don’t want to lose you, but can’t see causing a rift in your family.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he hurried onward. “I wouldn’t want you to resent me for it one day.”

“I could never resent ye,” she said, leaning toward him. “And as for family, when ye made your intentions known, I began to think of ye as my family.”

She didn’t want to bring up her money unless she absolutely had to. She’d do anything to achieve her goal, even something so unsavory as to dangle her fortune in front of this fortune hunter.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Of course. As do I. Think of you as family. As my wife.” He lowered his voice and looked around the room, his face going crimson. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

“But how can ye think of me as such, without my brother’s consent?” she asked, closing her eyes and praying he’d remember what she’d said at his house. He took her hand and she opened her eyes.

“Did you not say I had yours?” he asked.

The smile that split her face was quite sincere and she nodded, a real tear sliding down her cheek at the rush of relief she felt. “I did,” she breathed. “But what of it?” She held his gaze, unblinking, willing him to say the words.

“Catie, do you love me?” he asked, squeezing her hand almost painfully.

“Aye,” she responded instantly, her eagerness to forward her agenda passing close enough for passion.

“Then we must elope.”

She’d never felt so victorious, not in any foot race against any of the farmhands, not in haggling for the best prices at market. She tipped her chin down and looked up at him, fluttering her lashes, while inside she was whirling in circles and hollering.

“Ye canna be serious, Edwin,” she whispered, taking his hand and pressing it to her pounding heart. “Ye mustn’t tease me, not when things have turned so dire.”

“My darling, I would never jest about—” he paused, his face turning confused. “What is distressing you? And only tell me how I can make it right,” he hurried to add.

“My brother is going to take me back to Scotland,” she said. “If we are to act, we have to do it soon.”

Edwin nodded. “With all haste, my love,” he assured her. “Only tell me the day, and I shall be ready to lead you into our shared life.”

She held back the snort that threatened, and told him exactly when she wanted to meet him. If she didn’t exactly feel happy, she felt satisfied, and everything was settled by the time the butler returned with refreshments.

Quinn didn’t know off the top of his head how many women he’d been with. A fair few. It was one of the many vices his brother always harangued him about. He didn’t see any harm in it though, if a young lady wanted to spend time with him. He learned early enough they were mostly interested in his looks and he learned not to get attached since they were never interested in the life he led. He was the less dangerous, and more fun of the two handsome brothers who lived on the remote, unforgiving land in the far north. Up until now he was happy to let them approach him, working very little to gain their attention, short of offering a smile or joke. It was always meant to be Lachlan who settled down and continued the Ferguson name. Quinn would have rather taken a solid punch straight to the face than consider working to get a woman to marry him.

Up until now he’d planned on living out his days, giving selflessly of his time to any lovely lass who showed interest. Now all he wanted was Lizzie. He didn’t quite understand it. She teased him mercilessly, and he still thought she was the most beautiful, charming and desirable woman he’d ever known. As far as he was concerned, he was done. She was the last. He only hoped she felt the same, sure that he’d die alone if she wouldn’t have him, celibate for the rest of his days. He didn’t think it would be hard, as he now knew no other woman could ever compare to her, but he certainly hoped it didn’t come to that.

What might be hard was convincing her he had anything to offer. He loved his land, as forbidding and lonesome as it was up there, but knew that forbidding and lonesome weren’t especially good selling points, especially to someone as cosmopolitan as his Lizzie.