Page 123 of Wicked Highland Heroes

She wanted to argue, but her mouth had gone dry at hearing her name on his lips. He rolled and was able to position his pieces to capture her exposed game piece.

Eve took the dice and rolled. “I don’t think our fathers would have let you off.”

“No matter. I would have returned her to Manchester, then taken you to Gretna and married you.”

Eve stared. “That is utterly ridiculous.”

“I don’t know why. Make your move.”

She glanced at the dice, then made a quick move.

“Eve, you aren’t paying attention,” he said. “There is a good chance I will take one, or both, of the pieces you left vulnerable.”

“I think you’re all bluster,” she said.

He pointed at the board. “See for yourself. You have—”

“Good heavens. I’m not speaking of the game. I am talking about you saying you would have brought Grace home then forced me to accompany you to Gretna. That is rubbish.”

“If you say so. I am a gentleman, and I will let you make a better move.”

“I am sorry you are stuck with me,” she said.

His head snapped up, his expression hard. “That is rubbish. If anything, it is you who are stuck with me.”

She was struck speechless.

“Now, since you don’t seem willing to reconsider your move, it is my turn. Beware, madam.” He rolled the dice and one die landed askew against the side of the board.

“Double sixes,” he declared, and moved one of his pieces to take her piece.

“That is not a six,” Eve said. “The die landed so that it might be a six or a three. You must roll again.”

“It is clearly a six,” he said.

Eve straightened. “You are cheating!”

He reached for the dice, but she slapped his hand aside.

“I gave you the chance to reconsider your move and you didn’t. Now you must pay the price.” He laughed and tried to grab them again.

Eve shoved at his chest and he toppled backwards as she snatched up the dice. He was upright in the next instant and his arm shot around her waist. She squealed as he dragged her onto his lap, scattering the pieces across the board. The arm around her waist tightened as he tickled her with his free hand. Eve gave a loud peal of laughter and kicked in reflex, sending the board skidding across the carpet.

“My lord, that—“ His fingers dug gently but deep into her stomach so that the tickle seemed to reach clear to her bones, and she threw her head back against his chest in an effort to break free. He was laughing as hard as she.

“Let me go!” she gasped. “This is—” she shrieked “--unfair."

“Indeed, it is.” He seized her knee and squeezed.

The compelling desire to squeal with laughter crashed through her. Eve grabbed his hand and tried to yank it away from the sensitive flesh, but his grip, though gentle, might as well have been a vice. He squeezed and she kicked while yanking at his arm with both hands. He released the leg, then tickled her stomach again.

"I will avenge myself!" Eve shoved at his chest, then froze, her face a bare inch from his. He stilled as well, and she was suddenly aware of his hard thighs--and the hard length of him--beneath her bottom. “I believe you are forfeit this game,” she said in a voice she barely recognized as her own.

“Have I now?”

She nodded. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. The hand he'd been tickling her with slid up her arm and into her hair. The faint scent of the soap he had used to shave tantalized her senses, along with something else--his tongue traced her lips—his masculine scent, she realized, all him, and all male. The smell made her want to rub herself all over him. Her heart pounded in anticipation of his mouth sliding lower to her breasts as it had earlier, but instead, he nipped at her bottom lip. A flush of warmth radiated from her belly.

The fingers in her hair tightened, sending a prickle of gooseflesh down her neck and along her arms. He covered her mouth with his. An ache thrummed between her legs and she recalled the way his clever fingers had touched her in the alcove little more than an hour ago. Shame rolled over her at the realization that she wanted him to do that to her again. He had said she would be the most fortunate of women if she married him. What kind of woman was she to want this from him when he would give nothing else but this fleeting and most wicked pleasure? He flicked at her lips with his tongue and she opened without hesitation. With a low groan, he twirled his tongue around hers.