Page 55 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
“Let’s hope it does not come to that,” Macie said. “Creating such a stir would not be prudent.”
His brows hiked. “Since when has Calamity Macie been known for her prudent ways?”
“I am beginning to detest that nickname,” she said with a deliberate little sigh.
His eyes flashed with amusement. “Hence, why I am using it.”
“You must have been incorrigible as a lad,” she replied.
“I still am, and ye know it.”
Ah, the man had no right to be so appealing. And so infuriating.
In those moments at the old house—when they’d been alone and there’d been no need to put on an act—she’d seen an honesty in his eyes. When he’d brushed his thumb over her lip, his touch had been so very gentle. So very tender. Yet now, he displayed a glib nonchalance. Had she misread his expression and his actions? Which was the true reality?
For now, she had to focus on the present, exasperating as it was. “I’m beginning to feel this discussion is rather pointless.” Macie resisted the urge to sigh. “After all, it should not be so very difficult to create an illusion, to do just enough to keep people guessing. It’s not as if anyone is expecting to see you sweep me off my feet.”
“Or carry ye over the threshold, lass?” His tone was not entirely flippant.
An image flashed through her thoughts. Powerful arms holding her tenderly. Finn’s desire-filled gaze meeting hers. His masculine smile that promised a lifetime of wickedly sweet kisses.Oh, dear.She’d never been prone to flights of fancy. Until now.
She pulled in a low breath, banishing the thought. “Good heavens, no.” She smiled to herself. “Besides, who would believe it?” Macie said blandly.
Nell’s brow furrowed again. “Stranger things have happened,” she said, quieter than she’d been.
“Not to me.” Macie shored up her resolve. “It’s not as though I shall be overcome with longing.”
“Ye don’t think I could make that happen?” His question sounded like a challenge.
“Don’t take it personally, Finn.” She hiked her chin, trying desperately to sound more confident than she felt. “I’ve never lost my rational sense over a man.”
An emotion she could not quite read danced in his eyes. “I suspect ye’ve never had a man worthy of ye give it a go.” His voice was low and edged with gravel.
His words took her by surprise, but she tried not to show it. She managed a bland shrug. “You will get no argument from me.”
His sly smile reached his eyes. “Well, it’s bloody high time we changed that.”
For a long moment, perhaps a few swooshes of the pendulum on the clock on the mantle, Macie stood quite still. He’d issued what had seemed a challenge, but she saw the questions in his eyes.
Her pulse and her mind raced. Suitable replies tumbled and spun through her thoughts. His words had been bold. Perhaps even brazen. Yet, his tone had contained a note of what seemed a raw honesty.
She deliberately lifted a brow. “And you think you are the man who could make me cast all reason aside for the sake of his kiss?”
He grinned, cocky as a man could be. “’Tis a monumental task, but I’m up for the challenge.”
“Are you now?” she countered, his touch of humor easing her nerves.
An unfamiliar heat flared in his eyes. “Better than ye know, Macie.”
“You know they say I have a heart of ice, don’t you?”
“As I told ye, they’re bloody fools, Macie.”
An unreadable emotion marked his features. His gaze was intently focused, his eyes crinkling at the corners as though he found her rather intriguing. When his mouth curved at the corners, the slightest of smiles, waves of warmth rippled through her.
“Yet again, we are in agreement.” She pulled in a low breath, but it did little to quiet her pulse. “A rare thing, that.”
Nell cleared her throat, a quiet, strategic little cough. Another sound—a louder, more pronouncedhumph—followed. Macie’s attention jolted toward the doorway. Mrs. Tuttle stood silently, holding a neat, dress-sized box tied with a lovely blue satin ribbon. Her cheeks were drawn, her mouth pulled tight as if she’d held back from uttering the thoughts on the tip of her tongue. Her gaze was directed at Finn, a cross between daggers and worry gleaming in the woman’s eyes.
