The Trouble with Scotland (13 page)

“But when Gus and Donna slipped out of town, Father Andrew had to marry them when they came back. Her da made sure of it.”

Ross looked heavenward, his sigh wrought with exasperation. “That was different. Gus and Donna were . . .” He was apparently at a loss for the right words. “Sadie and I are . . .” He seemed stuck for a moment here, too. “We're only friends, Dand. Nothing more.”

Well, he'd certainly made that clear!

But Ross wasn't done with the boy. “There'll be no more gossiping, okay? A man just doesn't do it.”

Dand slipped off his lap and slammed his hands on his hips. “Aw, Uncle Ross, I don't gossip.”

“Yup, ye did, just like ye belonged at Quilting Central.”

The boy turned red and stomped his foot. “Did not.”

“Ye watch what you say in the future. Do you understand?”

Dand's indignation drained and he hung his head. “Aye.”

Ross ruffled his head. “No harm done.”

But Sadie felt otherwise. “I'm going to take my things up.”
And regroup.
Ross was a nice guy, and he'd just made it clear to everyone that she needed to find some Roundup and douse the crazy weeded fantasy that had taken root in her head.

“You rest if ye need,” Grace said, leading Sadie to believe that Deydie, or Ross, had told her about her CKD. Or had Dand filled everyone in on that, too? “Dinner will be in thirty minutes.”

“Thanks.” Sadie hurried from the room.

Upstairs, she focused on hanging up her clothes in the tiny closet and not replaying the earnestness of Ross's face while he was talking to his nephew.

There was a knock on the door. “Sadie. Let me in.”

“I'm lying down,” she lied as she hung up her new slacks.

The door opened and Ross came in, closing it behind him. “Lying down?”

She didn't need to explain herself to him. She hung the green dress. “What do you want?”

“We need to talk about tonight.”

“Yes. I'm going to find you a woman.” Though it would kill her. “I'm looking forward to it.”

“I need ye to do something for me.”

“What?”

“Put the green dress on and I'll show you.”

The magic of the green dress was gone, complete history. She couldn't feel pretty in it now, even if she wanted to.

“Humor me,” he said.

She didn't budge. She wasn't dressing up for him. Her drab brown dress was fine.

“If ye won't do it for me, then do it for Mum. She'll expect you to be dressed nicely for dinner. It's what they do here in Glasgow. I'll step out.” He walked to the door and opened it. “But I'll only give you a minute. That's sixty seconds. One, two, three . . .” He gave her a look that said if she didn't do as he bid, he'd change her clothes for her. And not in a sexy way.

Ross left. Begrudgingly, she pulled the green dress from the hanger and donned it within the allotted minute.

She thought he would just walk back in because apparently here in Scotland they didn't believe in privacy.

But he surprised her when he quietly tapped. “Ye ready?”

She pulled the door open. “Happy?”

“Not yet.” He stepped in. “Stop looking at me like I'm the enemy. I'm here to help.”

“Help with what?”

He cleared his throat and shifted from foot to foot. “I figured while I was finding someone to date, that you could practice picking up blokes.”

“What?”
A million thoughts tumbled through her brain. “Why?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced back at the door. “You were the one who said ye didn't have much experience.”

Good
. At least he had the decency to be embarrassed.

“What are you suggesting, then?”

“I thought I could give ye a few pointers so you could
chat up a man or two at the pub. Give ye some practice.” He frowned, but went on. “So when ye go back home, you would be more comfortable with it.”

But she knew what he really meant. That if she was to get a man, she'd have to learn to use her womanly wiles . . . because she had no physical assets to work with. She was hurt and angry, but in the end, she couldn't argue with his logic.

“What do you propose? I learn to throw myself at men?”

He glared at her. “
Gawd
, no! But ye could put out a little bait and then lure them in.”

“Put out?”

“That's not what I mean. Come here,” he rumbled.

She stayed where she was. “Why?”

“I want to show ye how to walk.” He reached out and took her hand. “Come.” He pulled her to him.

She brushed up against his chest, but stepped away quickly. “I'm fine the way I am.”

“I agree,” he said. “But I'm not the one ye're trying to catch. Besides, all of us could use a little help now and then. Ye're going to help me tonight, right? So I'm going to help ye now.”

“Fine. Then show me how this seductive walk should look.” She reached for her purse. “Wait. Let me get my phone so I can videotape this for your brothers.”

“Funny. All I'm asking for ye to do is to sway yere hips a little as you sashay across the floor.”

“Show me.” She dropped her purse.

Ross awkwardly strutted across the room. It was hilarious to see him try to be feminine.

“Now it's yere turn.”

She shook her head.

He took a step toward her.

“Fine.” She marched across the small room instead of demonstrating the sexy walk he wanted.

“No.” He came up behind her, placing his hands on her hips. “Like this.” He moved them side to side.

She went hot and at the same time became covered in honest-to-God chills. Warmth spread low in her abdomen. It was hard to catch her breath.

But she did. “Stop that. I can do it.”

“Then go on.”

She glanced over her shoulder to glare at him, but finally did as he said, swaying her hips as if she was walking a runway. “Are you happy?”

He looked perplexed. “I guess it's okay.”

“Now can we go down to dinner?”

“It's not ready yet.” He stepped away from her, looking irritated. “Go stand over there.”

She needed space from him, too, so she perched herself by the window.

He scanned her from top to bottom, and didn't look pleased with what he found. She wanted to yell at him that he was the one who'd picked out the dress!

“You know how to flirt?” he said roughly.

“Of course, I know how to flirt.” The truth was that she never felt like doing it though. The men she met didn't seem worth the effort.

“Well, do you know other stuff?” he said painfully.

She turned away and put her hand up. Oh, God, if he was asking about her sex life, it was none of his business.

“Not that,” he said. “I mean, do ye know that ye're supposed to ignore men and act aloof?”

She planted her hand on her hip—
where he was touching her only moments ago
—and abruptly dropped it to her side. “Is that the kind of thing you like? You're only interested in a woman if she's playing games?”

“Nay,” he said heatedly. “Other blokes go for it. I like a woman who is honest, straightforward, true.” But that declaration seemed only to put him more on edge, because he sounded almost angry.

She couldn't figure him out. He was all over the place.

“I'll probably have to teach ye how to kiss, too.” He looked troubled by the prospect, maybe even uncomfortable mentioning it.

“Get out, Ross.”

He took her arm, but it was as if just touching her made the anger fade, and in its place was warmth. “I'm concerned.” He cleared his throat. “That if ye get the chance to kiss a bloke tonight—or back home—that, um, that ye, um, might not know what to do.”

“What?” But she was distracted because he was rubbing her arm with his large hand, as if she might be cold.

He paused for two more caresses. “I don't want ye to be uncomfortable, Sadie.”

God, she loved it when he said her name. It hit her deep. His voice was as rich as chocolate mousse.

But did he think that she'd never been kissed? “I've kissed people,” she said defensively.

“Yere gran doesn't count,” he said.

Was he serious? Sure, she might be plain, but she did have some experience.

He dropped his hand, looking superior—the older, wiser one.

Either he thinks I haven't kissed a man, or that I'm no good at it.
Suddenly, she had a wicked idea.
If he's willing to go there, then I'll let him show me how it's done.

“Fine,” she said. “What do you propose?”

He stepped closer. “I could give ye a kissing lesson, if ye'll let me.”

“D
o your worst.” Sadie leaned in, closed her eyes, and waited for the Highlander. But the kiss didn't come. She opened her eyes.

He hadn't budged. He
tsked
with that superior gloat still plastered on his face. “That's not how it's done.” He gave her a patient look, as if she would be lost if it weren't for him.

She mimicked his deep brogue. “What do ye mean,
That's not how it's done
?”

He raised a chiding brow at her. “If ye really want to knock a man for a loop, eye contact is yere best bet.”

“Kiss with my eyes open?” She'd never kissed anyone that way. And in the movies, they certainly didn't stare at each other during lip-locks either.

“Nay. But look the fellow in the eye before the kiss. Take his measure. Make sure he's worthy of the kiss. And if he is, then ye can deliver a message to him.”

“What kind of message?”

He shrugged good-naturedly. “Tell him with yere eyes why ye're going to do it. Are ye making a promise to be his and his only? Or are ye taking pity on the poor
bastard that no one else will kiss him? Or are ye bored, with nothing else to do? There are a thousand things one can say with the eyes.”

“Oh?”

“Kissing is all about
intent
.”

And Ross's intent was simply to teach her
how to do it right.

“Okay,” she said like a good student. “I'm ready to try again.”

He stepped forward.

She gazed into his blue eyes. They were beautiful, soulful, and yes, wise. But they held a hint of playful mischief. His eyes . . . caused her insides to go crazy. Uncomfortable with anticipation.

Then he discombobulated her further by cupping her face tenderly as she fell under his spell.

And holy crap, he was right. She could see so much. Though the things she read in his eyes, she couldn't believe, not even for a millisecond. She saw promise written there. She could see this moment, she could see tomorrow, she could see the rest of her life. It was deep, rich, and everlasting. It all hung in the balance, now and forever, locked in their gaze.

She knew Ross was wielding his charm, and she shouldn't fall for it. But she caved as easily as a cream puff, wanting his lips on her so badly that it hurt. 

“Uncle,”
she whispered as she leaned in, keeping her eyes open. His pupils dilated as if he was surprised by her bravery. At the last second, when their lips met, his eyes, her eyes, drifted shut.

She kissed him. Tenderly at first, hesitantly . . . acting as if she didn't know exactly what she was doing. But she
did. She was a good kisser. She just wouldn't pull everything from her arsenal at once, because she wanted to
teach him
a lesson.

Okay, that wasn't necessarily it either. She'd wanted to kiss him from the first moment she saw him sitting at the bar. She shifted a little, nibbling at the corner of his mouth, which seemed to drive him half crazy. His right hand left her cheek; he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in tight, his left hand still cupping her face. She rubbed circles into his shirtfront as she kissed him full-on. He opened his mouth to say something, but she took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. He growled approvingly, as if her tongue in his mouth was the biggest turn-on he'd ever had, and he squeezed her tighter.

And he kissed her just as deeply back . . .
damn him
. Her focus evaporated and the kiss took on a life of its own. No longer could she think clearly. She was in the moment with him. Savoring it. Savoring him. She clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer.

She was just settling in for the long haul when he broke it off, breathing heavily.

Their faces were only inches apart. She brought her eyes up to meet his. “Well? How did I do?” Her voice sounded strange, as if it belonged to someone else, perhaps a sexy movie star.

His eyes narrowed as if he was trying to figure her out. But then he seemed to change tactics and a hint of new mischief began to grow in his gaze. He tilted his head as if mulling over her question. Finally, he spoke. “It was a good start . . .”

“But?” she asked.

“I think ye're going to need more practice.”

He didn't wait to hear what she had to say. He dove in and captured her lips. He must've forgotten he was supposed to stare deeply into her eyes. Or maybe his lips were impatient. Either way, this time he was showing her what it was like when he was in complete control. She whimpered with the utter joy of it, winding her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her. She could've died a happy woman at that moment, knowing what it was truly like to be kissed with passion.

Rap, rap, rap. It took a second to seep in, but they both jumped apart at the same moment a young voice filtered through the hardwood door.

“Uncle Ross? Aunt Sadie? Nan says it's time to come down to tea.” He pounded again. “What's going on in there?”

Ross ran the back of his hand over his mouth as if wiping Sadie's kiss away. He opened the door. “Shhh, Dand.”

“It's okay,” the boy said. “Aunt Glynnis is downstairs.” He stopped talking and stared at Sadie. “Are ye all right?”

She caught sight of herself in the small square mirror on the wall. She was as red as her dress was green. Her eyes were bright, expectant. And her lips swollen. She caught her tingling bottom lip in her teeth. But then noticed Ross was staring at her mouth, so she stopped. “I'm fine, Dand.” She didn't look back at Ross, but followed Dand out the door.

So that was that. She'd kissed the great, big, gorgeous Scot. She'd had her fun. She'd played with fire. But now she felt burned. There was always a price to pay. And in this case, it was reality—Ross wiping her kiss
away as if it was an unwanted drip of gravy. She couldn't help but replay it over and over as she walked downstairs to dinner.

She hadn't seen the future in his eyes. It was only a mirage. And she wasn't some sex goddess tempting the beautiful Highlander. She was plain, old Sadie Middleton.

But plain, old Sadie Middleton had been kissed. Thoroughly. Completely. And was now changed because of it.

*   *   *

Ross stood alone in Sadie's room and ran a hand through his hair. He needed a minute to calm down. The lass had taken him off guard, completely knocked him for a loop, and nearly brought him to his knees. Either he was one hell of a teacher or Sadie was a fast learner.

He smiled. Or she'd pulled one over on him.

“First Mate!” Dand shouted from the bottom of the steps. “Nan says, ‘Now!'”

Ross glanced about the empty room. Sadie's brown dress lay crumpled on the bed. He picked it up. “I should make her put this flour sack back on before I take her out tonight.”

But they weren't going on a date! He was finally free of being promised to Pippa. Attached to no one. This was his time to cast his line in new waters, enjoy his freedom. He wouldn't do it forever, maybe for the next five or six years, and then he would settle down and have a family.

He exhaled. But Sadie's kiss seemed to have peppered holes in his plan. He wanted to bring her back up here and kiss her again. To see if it had really been, well,
all that
.

Instead, he screwed his head on straight and trudged down the stairs to dinner. All through the meal, Sadie wouldn't look in his direction. His mother, though, was doing enough looking for the both of them. She wouldn't stop gazing from him to Sadie, then back to him again. For once, Ross was thrilled that Dand wouldn't hush because he kept the conversation rolling.

As Dand and dinner wound down, Ross shifted toward his mother. “Is it my turn to do the dishes?”

Mum gave him a knowing smile. “Nay. Dand and I have the kitchen.”

“Aw, Nan,” Dand complained.

His mother ignored the kid. “Ye and Sadie better get along on yere date.”

The lass who had been quiet all through dinner came to life. “We're not going on a date!” She looked scandalized.

What, wasn't he good enough for her? But he came to his senses and backed her up. “Not a date, Mum. Sadie wants to do a little research.”

“Research? Really?” His mother wasn't buying it.

“She's wanting to experience the nightlife here in Scotland.”

Dand popped up and ran for the shelf where the board games were stashed. “Then ye can stay here with us, First Mate. Aunt Sadie can do her research all on her own.”

The boy had a lot to learn. “Sorry, Dand. A good Scottish man protects the womenfolk. You remember that.” He turned to his mother. “We'll clear the dishes first. Come on, rat. Ye'll help.”

Sadie picked up two serving dishes. His nephew grabbed
several plates. The three of them went through to the kitchen. She put her things down and hurried back to the dining room, leaving the two of them alone.

Dand clanked his plates on the counter and turned to him. “Are ye sure ye don't love Aunt Sadie?”

“What?” What had gotten into this kid? “Why would ye say that?”

Dand scratched his head like John did when he was pondering a tough puzzle. “Ye two are acting funny. Aunt Kit says that's a sign that two people might be a good match.”

Gawd
. Dand had become a strange sponge, soaking up all the wrong things. “Go get more dishes.” Ross would have to speak with both Maggie and Kit about what they said around the boy.

Ross remained in the kitchen and started the tap, soaking the dishes for his mother.

The wise thing to do this evening was to
not
go out with Sadie. But he quickly nixed the idea of staying in. The way his mother was looking at him, she'd have him and Sadie engaged before the kitchen was cleaned. Mum was completely off base. Glynnis and Dand, too.

Sadie returned with the last of the dishes.

“Are ye ready to get out of here?” he said.

She nodded.

He dried his hands. “I'll tell Mum and Aunt Glynnis that we're going. Ye might want to run up and grab your new sweater.”

She nodded her head, still not making eye contact. Was this how the rest of his stay in Glasgow was going to be?

After only a mild interrogation from Glynnis and
Mum, he met Sadie at the front door, and grabbed the extra key from the hook. He looked down at her shoes. “Are those comfortable?”

She stuck out one slender foot, accentuating the delicate line of her legs, and the flats she wore. “Will I be dancing?”

He was glad she was back to speaking to him. And for a brief second, he wondered what it would be like to hold her in his arms and move to the music. He started to answer,
maybe
, but decided better of it
.
“We're walking to the pub.”

She nodded, glancing away, apparently back to the silent treatment.

He held the door open and pointed as she sailed through at a fast clip. “It's this way.”

The evening was cooling off, kind of like how things had cooled between him and Sadie. They were going to have to clear the air. They couldn't spend the whole evening not speaking to each other.

“Hold up.” He lengthened his stride to catch her. When he did, he gently pulled her to a stop.

She looked down at his hand and he dropped it.

“We need to talk about what happened in the bedroom.” But his words sounded too intimate. “Hell. That came out all wrong.”

The look she shot him made him even more uncomfortable. He was like a bug she'd pinned to a board. Her gaze was cutting. But the longer she looked at him, the more her indignation turned to hurt, the place between her eyebrows cinching together.

“You may want to talk about it, but I don't.” She took off walking again.

Well, hell, that went smoothly. He watched as her hips swung side to side. What made him think he could improve upon her walk? And that shade of green in her dress brought out the color of her eyes. Though he couldn't see her eyes because she was halfway down the street by now.

He hollered to her. “I was just going to say that there couldn't be a repeat.”

She slowed for a second.

He half jogged to catch up to her. “I said, we can't do that again. Did ye hear me?”

Sweet Sadie turned into the head stinger in a riled hornet's nest. She was red in the face, her eyes glistening with anger, and if she'd been a man, he would've been preparing himself to block the punch that was getting ready to coldcock him.

“I heard you,” she ground out. “Can you stop talking so we can get to the pub and find you a woman?”

Her words, though not a fist, had the same effect as a punch to the face.

“Perfect.” He was feeling a little riled, too, and he wasn't exactly sure why.

They finished the rest of the walk in heated silence. The pub was loud with voices and the one-man band who was playing his guitar and singing. Sadie seemed not to notice the musician or the crowd. She appeared to be on a mission, her eyes scanning the room the moment she stepped indoors.

She nodded in the direction of the bar where a tall strawberry blonde sat, nursing an ale among the noise. “What about that one?” she said in a raised voice.

He bent down to hear her, and rolled his eyes when
he figured out what she'd said. “Can we at least get a drink before the hunt begins? I'm thirsty. What about you?”

But the lass was a little like Deydie; when she latched on to an idea, she wouldn't give it up. “That one won't be alone for long. You should grab the opportunity. Before someone else does.”

Ross gave the woman a second glance. She was very attractive, but he wasn't interested. Not his type. “She reminds me too much of Pippa.”

Sadie gave an exaggerated sigh, tugged on his arm, and then went on tiptoe to speak in his ear. “Well, give me your list of requirements so I'll know what to look for.”

But it wasn't her words that made his brain pause. Was she blowing on his neck to drive him crazy? Nay. But to have her so close . . . He shook his head to brush off the sensation. He focused on answering her. “Requirements? It's easy. You saw Pippa. I want the opposite of her.” And that disturbing thought hit him again.
Sadie is the opposite of Pippa, every last inch of her.