“Wh-what?” Chloe blinked. Not only was the dastardly man not killing her, he was going to feed her?

“Are you hungry? I was preparing food for myself and it occurred to me that mayhap you were hungry.”

Chloe puzzled over that for a moment. Was she hungry? She was completely freaked out. She was going to have to use the bathroom soon. Her nose itched furiously and her skirt was getting all bunched up again.

And in the midst of it all, yes, she was hungry.

“Uh-huh,” she said warily.

Only after he left did it occur to her that maybe that was how he was going to get rid of her—by poisoning her!

4

Poached salmon, stovies and cullen skink. A salad tossed with nuts and cranberries. A plate of Scottish cheeses, shortbread and marmalade. Sparkling wine in Baccarat goblets.

Death by scrumptious Scots cuisine and fine crystal? “I thought I’d get a peanut butter sandwich or something,” Chloe said warily.

Dageus placed the final dish on the bed and looked at her. His entire body tightened. Christ, she was fantasy come to life on his bed, sitting back against the headboard, her wrists tied to the posts. She was all soft curves, her skirt riding up her sweet thighs, teasing him with forbidden glimpses, a snug sweater hugging full, round breasts, hair tousled about her face, her eyes wide and stormy. He had no doubt that she was a maiden. Her response to his brief kiss had told him that much. He’d never had a lass like her in his bed. Not even in his own century, where proper lasses had given the Keltar brothers wide berth. Rumors about “those pagan sorcerers” had been abundant in the Highlands. Though experienced women, married women, and maids had eagerly sought their beds, even they’d eschewed more permanent ties.

They’re drawn to danger, but of no mind to live with it, Drustan had once said with a bitter smile. They like to stroke the beast’s silky pelt, feel his power and wildness, but make no mistake, brother—they’ll never, never trust the beast around children.

Well, ’twas too late. She was with the beast whether she liked it or not.

If only she’d stayed on the street, she’d have been safe from him. He’d have left her alone.

He’d have done the honorable thing and erased her from his mind. And if by chance he’d encountered her again, he’d have turned coldly about and walked the other way.

But ’twas too late for honor. She hadn’t stayed on the street like a good lass. She was here in his bed. And he was a man, and not an honorable one at that.

And when you leave her? the tatters of his honor hissed.

I’ll leave her so weel pleasured she’ll no’ rue it. Some other bumbling fool would hurt her. I’ll awaken her in ways she’ll never forget. I’ll give her fantasies that will heat her dreams for the rest of her life.