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ask what testosterone is."
Enough. "We'll leave as soon as I don my plaid." Drawing the wool around him, he rose,
then turned his back on her as he finished. He felt her gaze touching him, moving across
his shoulders, down his back, leaving a trail of phantom fingertips that drew a shiver from
him.
He strode toward the tunnel, but stopped when he reached the spot where Malin still lay
atop the strange toy. He grinned. "Wi' only one front leg, Malin canna leap verra high. Yer
toy suits him."
"Great. Peter lives to please."
Her grouchy sarcasm widened Ian's grin. Women he knew were always sweetly compliant.
A touch of sour intrigued him.
Wordlessly, she followed him back down the dark tunnel and out into a now sunny day.
He sensed her pause, her startled gasp.
" 'Tis beautiful when the mist clears and the sun shines on the mountains and burns."
Startled, he realized he was speaking to her as he would any stranger to the Highlands, not
the trickster he half believed her to be.
She took a deep breath. "I can smell the sea."
"Aye." The sea. He'd often stood gazing at the gray endlessness of it and wondered what
lay beyond. He knew something did because of the tales passed down from his great
grandfather. If he accepted those tales as true, that men could travel to strange places
across a sea that seemed to have no end, could it not be true that men might travel across a
sea of time? But he could see the water, he couldn't see time. And so he didn't believe.
He walked at a slow pace, allowing her to keep up with him.
"I don't mean to sound nosy, but... Okay, I'm nosy. It's a weakness."
He exhaled a sigh of resignation. She wasn't going to leave him alone.
"How does this pleasure master job go? Do you work a forty-hour week, with an hour for
lunch each day? What about overtime? Oh, and do you have health insurance and a
retirement plan? Hmm. I guess you have to have malpractice insurance too. I mean, what
if a client doesn't attain her desired level of joy? Do you just give her money back, or does
she get credit toward her next shot at joy? Do you advertise in the yellow pages, or "
She tripped over a small rock and fell against him.
He drew in his breath at the searing connection. Her small gasp as she righted herself
assured him she'd felt it also. And wanted it no more than he did.
Somehow, that annoyed him, and he took it out on the ridiculous things she wore on her
feet. "Can yer King Clairol not put something on yer feet that will allow ye to walk a short
distance wi' out falling all over a man?" He would have to get her something to ... No. She
wouldn't be here long enough for him to need to worry about her footwear.
"Falling all over a man?" He heard the anger in her voice and immediately felt better.
"Look, buster, if I were going to fall all over a man, it wouldn't be you."
He was annoyed again. Why wouldn't it be he? No man could bring her the pleasure he
could. He smiled at her, a practiced smile that he long ago had learned softened women,
made them open to him. "A night on my furs would cure yer shrewish nature."
"It'll never happen. I'm one hundred percent seduce-proof, mister." Ignore the way he
made you feel when he touched you, looked at you. This isn't real, so the feelings aren't
real. "The only thing a night on your furs would bring me is a sore back."
Okay, so she wasn't being fair. No man could bring her pleasure. Her ex had huffed and
puffed like The Little Engine That Could, and gotten zip for his trouble. "You haven't
answered any of my questions about your work."
She looked up at Ian Ross in time to catch his take-off-your-clothes-and-we'11-do-it-right-
here smile. "I dinna understand any of yer questions. The Pleasure Master isna about
work. 'Tis a sacred duty."
Kathy sighed. "Sacred duty. Gotcha."
He frowned, reminding her once again that she was alone in a strange place with a man
she didn't know. It paid to watch what you said, even to a brain-blip.
"Look, I'm sorry. When I get upset, I get sarcastic. I guess it's sort of a defense." She
smiled weakly.
He nodded. "What do ye care about, Kathy of Hair?"
She blinked, surprised by the question. "I. . . care about being a good person and raising
women's self-esteem by giving them great hair. Why?"
"Then ye must understand what I care about, lass." He paused at the top of a low hill
where a sudden cold wind whipped his hair away from his shoulders in a dark cloud. "My
great grandfather was carried off by pirates while still a lad and taken to the East, where he
was sold to a powerful woman who kept many men for her pleasure."
"A male harem?" Intriguing concept.
"I dinna know what ye call it. My great grandfather was her favorite, and she taught him
the secrets of the Pleasure Master. At her death, my great grandfather was freed. He
returned to the clan wi' a bed, two cats, and a knowledge of how to pleasure a woman like
no other man."
A hard smile touched his lips. "The duty of Pleasure Master falls to the first-born son. My [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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