Secrets to Seducing a Scot by Michelle Marcos

elbows.
    Serena stared at him over her embroidery hoop. The sight of his bare forearms sent a current of eroticism through her. Slightly furred and knotted with muscle, they fascinated her. She had never seen such a large man in semi-undress. He walked into the corridor and carried
out a wooden chest so heavy that it required two footmen to take it from his gloved hands. Serena couldn’t help but notice the swell of muscle at his shoulder and upper arms, stretching the rough-spun fabric. Definitely no London gentleman of her acquaintance looked like him. But then again, Malcolm Slayter was no gentleman. And they were far, far from London.
    “You’re from the Highlands, are you not?” Serena asked.
    His green eyes jumped to her face. “Aye.”
    She bit her cheek. “I thought all Highlanders wore kilts.”
    “Aye. That we do.”
    “Why don’t you wear one then?”
    He wiped his damp temple on his sleeve. “That, I’m afraid, is yer doing.”
    “My doing?”
    “Aye. I’m told that ladies … of the English persuasion … are too delicate to behold a man’s bare legs.”
    “Who told you such a slanderous thing?”
    He shrugged. “Common knowledge.”
    Serena harrumphed. “Well, you needn’t put yourself out on my account. It takes a great deal more than a show of knees to offend someone like me.”
    He nodded in appreciation. “Judging by our less-than-cordial meeting, I think I may have discovered everything that offends someone like ye.”
    The words needled her. She didn’t want to be thought of as a harridan. Truth be told, Malcolm Slayter was the most interesting thing that had happened since she’d arrived in Scotland.
    “Is there a Mrs. Slayter?”
    “Aye.”
    Her needle stilled. A sinking feeling went through her.

    “That would have been my mum,” he continued.
    She rolled her eyes, but the gesture was coupled by a feeling of hope.
    “I meant, are you married?”
    “I know what ye meant.”
    But no explanation was forthcoming. There it was again, that impudence that challenged her authority over him. “Well?”
    “That’s private.”
    She laughed out loud. “You are standing in the middle of my bedroom in a state of undress intruding upon my every waking moment, and you’re bothered by an innocuous question like ‘Are you married?’” The irony of it made her laugh again.
    He shook his head. “Yer father said ye don’t have to speak to me. Feel free to avail yerself of that freedom.”
    Her laughs subsided to a chuckle. “Maybe I will.”
    “Good.”
    He turned to the last footman. “Please tell Mrs. Walker we’ve finished clearing this out.”
    Zoe jumped off her chair. “Can I see where it leads now?”
    He flicked a smile at the girl. “Aye.” His gaze swung over to Serena, challenge blazing in his eyes. “Ye can come, too. If ye dare.”
    Serena was not about to let him call her a coward. She set down her embroidery hoop and stood up. But first, she grabbed a shawl and threw it over her head. Spiders …
    She followed closely behind him as he held the candle aloft. The flame flickered across the walls, blinking light upon what was essentially a drafty, unplastered corridor. Exposed planks and white mortar lined the walls, and a faint musty smell pervaded the passageway. She couldn’t see herself sitting in this room for
any length of time, let alone sleeping in it. He must be a brave soul indeed if he didn’t mind bedding here.
    Involuntarily, she clutched the back of his shirt. It was warm with him, and it gave off a scent that was very pleasing to her … like skin warmed by sunshine. Her fingers bounced upon the hardness of his back, and the intimacy of it was intensely pleasurable.
    At the opening, the corridor took an immediate left turn, and they followed it for a distance. Here, the spiderwebs were plentiful, and they formed a canopy over her head. She squeezed in closer to him, using him as a shield.
    Finally, the corridor ended at a spot where light shone