Never Tempt a Scot by Lauren Smith Page 0,3

the room in her direction. Once his eyes settled on hers, she tilted her head to one side and smiled invitingly at him. With a coquettish wink, she twirled and walked away to a more secluded part of the assembly room.

The Scotsman would come to her. All men came when she gave them that look. Sure enough, he came into the alcove off the main ballroom.

“Well now, we meet again, lass.” He smiled down at her and stepped closer.

Portia was only too happy to lure him deeper into the private space. She wanted to kiss him, to see how he compared to the others. There hadn’t been many, admittedly, but enough that Portia felt she was a good judge of kisses by now.

“Mr. Kincade,” she said in a soft voice that held a hint of girlish innocence.

Brodie placed one large palm on the wall beside her head, effectively blocking her in. “So, are we to become . . . better acquainted?”

“I believe we are, but first . . .” She tiptoed her fingers up his chest to his cravat, toying with the perfectly folded fabric.

“Aye?” Brodie leaned down. Just a few more inches and his kissable lips would be against hers. Her pulse pounded with excitement.

“First, you must propose to me.”

Brodie lifted his other hand to grasp her hip, and delicious tingles of excitement shot through her.

“Propose what?” he asked.

“Marriage, of course.” She rolled her eyes, giggling at his silly teasing.

“Marriage?” He chuckled. “Oh, lass, I’ll not be doing any such thing.”

“What?” Her gaze sharpened on him.

“I’m of no mind to marry, but I willna say no to a kiss, if you wish to give me one.”

Portia was infuriated. She slapped his cheek hard enough that his eyes widened, and his lips parted in shock.

“Well, I never,” Portia growled. “Honestly. Without marriage.” She glared up at him. “You will marry me, Mr. Kincade. Then you will have as many kisses as you wish.”

Brodie stepped back, running a palm over his cheek. “Actually, lass, I think not. Good night to you.” He turned and walked away, disappearing back into the assembly room.

Portia blinked. No man had ever said no to her before, for anything. But Brodie Kincade just did. That intrigued her. No, it excited her. A man who was not so easily won over by her charm and beauty. That was a man worth catching. But how to do it?

I shall have him compromise me, she thought. There’s no other way to it. He won’t agree, otherwise, that much is quite clear.

With a devious giggle, she pulled her hood up and returned to the foyer to wait for her dreadful great-aunt to return. Her sour mood had dissipated in the wake of her new plans. Brodie Kincade would be her husband within a week—she would bet her life on it.

2

Brodie rejoined his friend Rafe to watch the dancers swirl around the assembly room. “What the devil was that about?” Rafe asked.

Brodie tried not to scowl. He’d been in a good mood until a moment ago. Surely he wasn’t that off his usual seduction methods, was he? He usually got slapped after a kiss, not before. His cheek stung faintly, but it was a strong reminder that English ladies weren’t nearly so easily charmed as the ladies in Scotland. They clearly expected more to result from a bit of fun.

“The wee lass who introduced herself. She wanted to speak to me.”

Rafe shot Brodie a sardonic grin. “Did she have anything interesting to say?”

“She wanted me to marry her.” Brodie smiled ruefully. “Damned innocent creature.”

Rafe’s laugh held a hint of darkness. “Brodie, my friend, here is your first lesson of life in England. No one in this room is innocent, especially the young unmarried ladies. They are far more dangerous than anyone else here tonight.”

Brodie took a glass of ratafia from a servant who passed them carrying a tray. “I’m not afraid of a wee hen.”

“You should be. Even the most fire-breathing dragon of a chaperone should be less feared than a young unmarried lady. You see, we are the prey.” Rafe tapped his own chest. “We’re the ones being hunted.”

“You let English lasses frighten you so?” Brodie chuckled. “My brother Brock wasna afraid of his bride. He simply ran off with her. Not even your brother and his fancy friends could stop him from claiming Joanna.”

Rafe’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You don’t understand. Your brother was doing what my sister wanted him to do. She was in charge of that adventure.