A ridiculous thought; why should she care what Robert thought? She tamped down her qualms. “I might kiss you . . . if you’ll show me your collection.”

His gaze narrowed. “Why do you want to see that? You keep bringing it up and I wonder—”

“I keep bringing it up? Oh, no, my lord, you keep bringing it up and I take that as a challenge. Why, this evening over dinner you flatly said that no one—no one—was allowed in the room where you house your treasure. If that’s not a challenge, then I don’t know what is!”

He laughed. “I suppose it was, of a sort, though not to you.”

“Oh, to Robert, then? He can be quite rude.” She gestured about the room. “But he’s not here, is he?”

Ross’s eyes gleamed and his breathing seemed to come harsher. “No, he’s not. There’s no one here but you and me. Come, Moira, one kiss—”

“Not without seeing your treasure room.”

He scowled, looking like a child deprived of a candy. “I can’t do that.”

“Then I can’t kiss you,” she said primly. “I want to see these artifacts you’ve told me about. Hurst says you may have the biggest collection on earth.”

Ross looked mollified. “It’s tolerable. The room is almost the size of this.”

Finally, some details. She clasped her hands together and said in a breathless voice, “And it’s filled with antiquities?”

“To the top.” He tottered back to the table, pausing to steady himself by holding on to the back of a chair. When he reached her, he took her hand and patted it. “One kiss and I shall show you my treasures.”

“Tonight?”

“Why not?” He stroked her hand. “You are completely charming, which is why I must kiss you. Something to remember you by, since you and Hurst will be gone as soon as I give him that damned box.”

The man was an imbecile. He was as subtle as a bullet, which made it hard to pretend the innocence he found so attractive. Better to get this over with. “If you want a kiss, then we should do it quickly, before the servants come to clear the table.” And before I change my mind. She was not looking forward to this at all.

“You’re an eager little thing, aren’t you?” He took her hands in his and pulled her close.

Moira tilted her face to his and lifted her lips. To her shock, he grabbed her with both hands and yanked her against him, then kissed her hard, his thick tongue pressing between her lips.

She struggled, turning her face to one side. “Sir Lachlan, no!”

He laughed, his hands busy as he shoved aside the neckline of her gown so roughly that he ripped it. The sound seemed to excite him for he began to feverishly press against her, pinching her breast.

Suddenly Moira knew why Ross had been in two duels: he was planning on taking her right then and there.