On Temporary Terms

“You miss it. I hear it in your voice.”

“Aye. But I’m a grown man. I can handle a bit of disappointment.”

“How did you wind up working with your brother?”

“Brody started the boating business, both commercial fishing and tourist craft, when he was in his twenties. When I finished university, he begged me to join him and handle the financial stuff. We’ve had a good partnership over the years.”

“You told me that day in my office that he’s holding the job for you.”

“He wants to. I don’t think it makes sense. Granny is healthy as a horse. She could live for another decade. And I hope she does.”

He was shocked when Abby smiled at him and reached across the table to take one of his hands in hers. Her fingers were soft and warm. “I think you’re a very sweet man, Duncan Stewart.”

“I’m not sweet.” He bristled.

She stroked her thumb across his knuckles. “It’s a compliment.”

“Didn’t sound like one.” He lifted his free hand, the one Abby wasn’t holding, and summoned the waitress. “May we see a dessert menu, please?”

“Oh, not for me,” Abby said, her smile dimming.

“They’re famous for their bread pudding. I read about it on Yelp.”

“You’ll have to eat it. I’m too full.”

“Nonsense. You only had a salad and a tiny chicken breast. I can’t eat dessert alone.”

Now Abby looked genuinely upset. She let go of his hand, leaving him bereft. “No dessert,” she said firmly. “I’m dieting.”

He ordered one for himself anyway and frowned. “Why in God’s name are you dieting, lass? You’re perfect.”

* * *

Abby stared at him, waiting for the punch line...searching for the calculation in his eyes, the attempt to butter her up with compliments to lure her into bed. She saw none of that. Instead, Duncan seemed genuinely baffled and irritated by her insistence on refusing dessert.

She tried again. “You’re tall and lean, Duncan. For women like me who are short and chu—”

He reached across the table and put his hand over her mouth. “Don’t you dare say it. My God, girl. Are the men in this country blind and stupid? I’ve spent every minute of this evening wondering how long it will be until I get to see your naked curvy body pressed up against mine. And you’re worried about dessert?”

The waitress arrived with a decadent bread pudding topped off with real whipped cream. She set the plate on the table with fresh napkins and two spoons and walked away. In the ensuing silence, Abby felt her face turn red. Embarrassment mixed with sexual tension.

Duncan, his expression inscrutable, picked up a spoon and scooped out a bite of caramel-laced, whipped-cream-topped perfection. “Open your mouth, lass. I’ve an urge to feed you, since I can’t do anything else at the moment.”

Abby’s lips parted even as her knees pressed together. The way Duncan Stewart was looking at her ought to be illegal.

He lifted the spoon to her mouth. “Wider,” he said hoarsely.

She obeyed and moaned when he spooned the dessert between her lips. The flavors exploded onto her tongue. She chewed and swallowed, light-headed. Duncan watched her like a hungry hawk studying a mouse. “Do you like it?” he asked. His voice was sandpaper, the accent almost buried beneath rough desire.

“Yes.” The word stuck in her throat. “Do you want some?”

“Only if you feed it to me.”

Abby recognized the sexual challenge for what it was. Never in her life had she found herself in such a position. Duncan Stewart had turned a simple meal into sexual foreplay, and now he demanded an equal partner.

“I don’t sleep with a man on the first date,” she said desperately, reminding herself of all the reasons she made that rule.

“Understood. Besides, this isn’t a date—remember?” He growled his response, restless, agitated. “I’ll settle for dessert. Now, lass. Before it gets cold.”

The way Abby felt, she was never going to be cold again. With trembling fingers, she retrieved the spoon and scooped a bite for Duncan. He watched her intently.

“Stop that,” she complained.

“Stop what?” His complacent smile was suspect.

“Stop imagining me naked.”

“Is that what I was doing? I didn’t know you were a mind reader.”

“Open your mouth, Duncan.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Why had she never realized how erotic it could be to feed a man dessert? When Duncan’s sharp white teeth barely missed her finger as he snagged the pudding, she shuddered. “Is that enough?” She sat back in her chair and took a hasty drink of water, almost choking.

The man laughed at her, damn him.

“I’m still hungry,” he said.

“Feed yourself.”

“If you’re not going to sleep with me tonight, I thought we could at least sublimate.”

“Do they teach you that line in wicked, sexy Scotsman school?”

Three (#ua6ff186d-e259-57f9-8317-194b78bc74de)

Duncan chuckled, though his sex was hard as stone and he wanted to howl at the notion he couldn’t have her tonight. “I have no idea. I’ve no’ been particularly successful with the ladies over the years. Too busy with work, I suppose.”

“Oh, please.”

“’Tis true,” he insisted. “There haven’t been as many women as you might think. Brody was always the one with the easy banter and the sunny personality. I spent a lot of time alone. I liked walking the moors and tinkering with boat engines and whatnot. Women were complicated and sometimes, frankly, too much work.”

“So why me?”

At first he thought she was flirting, begging for a compliment. But on second glance, he saw the uncertainty beneath the question, and it squeezed his heart. “Ah, heavens, Abby, ye’re poetry wrapped in a woman’s body. I walked into your office and it was like being punched in the chest. I could have taken you then and there. I can’t explain it. Perhaps you think I’m daft.”

She stared at him, eyes huge. She gnawed her bottom lip. “It’s not natural for a man your age to have to live with his grandmother. You’re a long way from where you belong. I think you’re probably homesick and horny. It’s skewed your thinking. I’ve never driven anyone sexually insane.”