Harry grabbed her water bottle and uncapped the end, his eyes never leaving her face. Hers widened. She pushed off the sofa and fled to the kitchen, gaining the safety of the far side of the island.

With his smile wiped clean of his face and his heart hammering fiercely against his ribs, it came to him. She had read him. His subterfuge had not worked. Not with her.

If the cards were on the table, so be it.

Harry flinched, moving one way, then changing direction to fake her into betraying her next move. Quick as a hare, Elise darted in the opposite direction.

With his eyes glued to her face, he set down the water bottle. Placing one hand on the worktop, he vaulted over the small island and landed with both arms extended, successfully blocking her escape and pinning her in the alcove beside the fridge.

Before she could reach the knife in her sock, he grabbed her waist and restrained her arms, leaning over her, his mouth mere inches from her face.

“As I was saying, I haven’t decided if you were lovelier then or now.”

Her breath fanned his face, and her eyes rounded as he lowered his mouth another inch. “After careful consideration, I know the answer,” he whispered.

Her eyes flashed. He moved sideways a split second before her knee connected with his thigh. He grunted. No doubt, he’d have a good-sized bruise tomorrow, but that was better than the alternative.

“That wasn’t very ladylike, Elise.”

“May I suggest that you behave like a gentleman, Mr. Benson, and I’ll respond in kind?” she asked, her voice dripping like treacle.

“Sorry. The son of servants doesn’t comprehend the intricacies of proper behavior.”

Elise said something incomprehensible in Scots and squirmed to get away. He guessed it was dirty; he hadn’t been in Scotland long enough to understand all their insults.

“Don’t you want to know the answer to my dilemma?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter if I do or not. You’re going to tell me anyway.”

“I am?” Harry’s mind whirled. Didn’t she want to know? All this time, he had assumed the attraction between them was mutual. He eased back marginally, his hands holding her firmly, but not bruising her fair skin.

“I assume you’ll let me go once you’ve shared your wee secret, and then we can get on with the game?”

Was she being difficult, or didn’t she care for his attention? He couldn’t tell. But he’d never forced his attention on a woman, and he wasn’t going to start now. He let go of Elise so fast she slid to the floor.

He reached down a hand and helped her up.

“Thanks,” she said, refusing to meet his eyes.