Duncan leaned forward. She looped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his ear.
“Just do it,” she hissed, “and I’ll give you the ten thousand dollars.”
If this whole miserable experience went on any longer, she would leap headlong into the remains of the wedding cake.
Duncan felt a fool as he knelt in front of her, dangling the blue garter from his right index finger. Music swelled, the kind of music he’d heard in strip joints and cheap pubs.
“Go for it!” someone yelled. A burst of wild applause crashed over him.
She extended her right foot. He encircled her ankle with his left hand and her eyes widened. Beneath the sharp-tongued anger was a vulnerable—and very beautiful—woman. She sat stiffly on the wooden chair, her posture ramrod straight, as if she were waiting for the firing squad to aim their rifles. She didn’t belong there any more than he did. He wasn’t sure how he knew that, only that it was a fact.
I’m not going to hurt you, lassie.
He slid the garter over her foot, her arch, her ankle, then snaked it slowly up the curved muscle of her calf. Her legs were long and slim and beautifully shaped. A work of art made flesh and blood. He remembered how those legs had felt, wrapped around his hips, as he—
“Duncan!” she exclaimed.
He realized his hand was skating over her knee and up her thigh. “Bloody hell!” he muttered then pulled away as she let her skirt drop.
The din around them was deafening. He felt foolish, surrounded by these laughing, happy Americans who had no idea who he was or what he was about. He wondered if they knew anything at all about Samantha, the woman who’d grown up in their midst.
“This is your dance,” the emcee called out. “Everyone, let’s hear it for next year’s happy couple—” He paused, aiming a pointed look in their direction. “Your names?”
“Sam,” Sam mumbled.
“Harvey,” Duncan said.
“Harvey?” Sam started to laugh.
“Nobody noticed, lassie,” he said as he took her in his arms. “Nobody cares.”
They took a few tentative twirls around the floor and then everyone else joined them. He couldn’t draw a breath without bumping into another dancer.
“I thought I—” Samantha stopped and he felt her sway against him. “The heat,” she murmured. “Too crowded…”
He danced her quickly across the room, past the curious glances and stage whispers, and out onto the terrace.
“You have to stop doing this,” she said as she breathed deeply of the cool night air. “That’s twice tonight you’ve saved me from making a fool of myself.”
“Do you feel better now?”
“Absolutely.” She smiled at him. “Thank you.”
He turned and started toward the stairs.
“Duncan!” She grabbed the hem of his jacket. “Where are you going?”
“Go back to your family, lassie. You were right. I don’t belong here.”
“Wait!” What’s your problem, Sam? Isn’t this what you wanted? In another minute he’ll be out of your life for good. “I mean, how will you get back to your hotel? Did you rent a car or—”
“I’ll call for a taxi.”
“Where are you staying? I’d be happy to—”
“I’m going home, Samantha. To Glenraven.”
She felt as if the air had been knocked out of her. “At least let me drive you to the airport. It will take forever to get a cab way out here on a Sunday night Besides, you probably don’t have any idea when the next plane leaves. You might be stuck at the airport for hours and hours. I can’t let you do that” Why can’t you let him do that, Sam? What possible difference can it make to you?
His survival instinct, honed to a fine point since his divorce, told him to ignore the gleam of tears in her cornflower blue eyes, warned him to leave while he still could. He was a sophisticated man of thirty-seven years. They both knew he would have no trouble making his way to the airport.
It was time he left.
She fainted into your arms twice tonight Will you leave her here to drive home alone?
He wasn’t her husband or her guardian. Where she went and how she managed to get there were no business of his.
But he remembered the way she’d felt in his arms when she passed out. The languid grace. The extreme vulnerability. Where were her family and friends? Didn’t anyone know she needed help?
“You’re right,” he said, against his better judgment. “Would you let me make some calls from your house?”
“Of course,” she said. “And I’ll write out your check while you’re there.”
Just so they both understood what was important.
Chapter 6
Duncan insisted on doing the driving, which to Sam’s way of thinking was one of the more ridiculous things she’d heard all night.
“That’s absurd,” she said. “You don’t know the first thing about Houston. It will take us two hours to go twenty miles.”
“I’m a quick study.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she said. Then a thought occurred to her. “I’m an excellent driver, in case that’s what’s worrying you.” For all she knew, the American prejudice against women drivers might be a Scottish pastime, as well.
“I don’t doubt that you are.”
“You think I’m going to faint again, don’t you?”
“The thought had occurred to me.”
“I got along just fine for thirty-two years before you showed up, Duncan Stewart. I’m sure I can manage to get myself home in one piece.”
“I’m driving,” he said, taking the keys from her. “I won’t argue the point any longer.”
She wasn’t sure if he sounded protective or hostile. Either way, she didn’t like it. He had no right to either emotion, not when it pertained to her.
She directed him out of the parking lot to the highway. “You’ll get off at the third exit,” she said, “then take the first right.”
“Bloody hell,” he muttered as he shifted into gear. “I canna get used to driving on the right.”
“You’d better get used to it in the next five seconds or I’m jumping out of this car no
