Free Samantha James by The Seduction of an Unknown Lady Page A

flooded her. Damn, damn, damn the man. Every time she closed her eyes, every time she left her thoughts drift, he was there. It made her ache, remembering how it felt to lie against him—no demands, no worries, nothing but the warmth of simply being with someone. Being held by someone.
    There was no lying to herself. By him.
    She sighed. What a fool she was. She’d hoped to put it from her mind today—put him from her mind and immerse herself in Demon of Dartmoor. And she would. In just a moment.
    So she told herself. But she made no move toward her desk.
    Downstairs, someone knocked on the door of the bookshop. The unexpectedness of it made her start. She straightened upright.
    Fionna frowned. She knew the sign on the shop was turned to CLOSED . She considered ignoring it.
    Impossible, for the knocking continued.
    Setting her mouth in a stern line, she headeddownstairs, prepared to let loose a portion of her temper. If a person sought entrance to a bookshop, surely they could read.
    She should have known.
    Aidan McBride.
    He stood at the door, looking decidedly dashing—as if the man could appear otherwise! Now that he saw her, she saw him lock his hands behind his back.
    Fionna’s knees were suddenly weak. She’d written of such things, why, the very first time Raven had met Rowan, in fact! Rowan had appeared on Raven’s doorstep, during—of all things!—a monstrously cold snowstorm. She hesitated, a little uncertain as to Aidan’s sudden appearance.
    He wasted no time in clarifying it.
    “Will you have dinner with me?”
    Her lips parted. “What?”
    “I said, will you have—”
    “I heard what you said.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, still a little stunned at his appearance—and his unabashed directness.
    “Oh, come,” he said lightly, “must you always be so wary? You persist in gazing at me as if I am anything but what I am, as if there is more to what I am than you see. I assure you, there is not. I have a very busy day at my office tomorrow. Despite what you may think, I am not a man of idle propensity.” He paused. “I must eat. You must eat. Therefore, I propose we eat together.A relaxing Sunday dinner is all I’m suggesting. I should like a day of peace. A day with you, as it were.”
    Fionna flushed. She could hardly fault the man for being candid, could she?
    “Your reluctance does not ease my mind,” he remarked, his manner still casually offhand.
    Her skin grew warmer still.
    “Why do you look at me so, Fionna? Is it a crime to wish to spend time with you?”
    She wet her lips. “Why should you want to spend time with me?” she asked, her voice very low.
    The merest smile grazed his lips. “Why indeed,” he murmured. “Of course, if I were courting you, the answer would be obvious.”
    Fionna felt her cheeks heat. Somehow she was never quite sure when he was teasing.
    At her silence, he laughed. “What, Miss Fionna Hawkes, have you never been courted?”
    Fionna stiffened. Was he making light of her? “ Am I being courted? It certainly doesn’t feel like it,” she retorted.
    A smile flirted at the corner of his mouth. “Well, perhaps we should change that. And perhaps it’s because you won’t let it.”
    Perhaps he is right, needled a little voice inside.
    “Come,” he said softly. “Come with me.”
    Come with me. It was almost as if it were something else entirely. Not an invitation to Sunday dinner, but something far more intimate. Something that existed—that involved—only the two of them. Something that involved warmth, heat, and overwhelming maleness versus softness and closeness.
    Every sense inside her sharpened. Clamored in a way that was entirely new to Fionna. Seeing him thus, so handsome he drove the air from her lungs—why, it made even a single breath a monumental struggle.
    She longed to give in. To let herself be swept away by the man and her urges and dash the consequences. Foolishly—stupidly—she found herself overtaken by