Jamee frowned. "You did? I see, he came with Adam to talk you into taking this job. You never had a chance."

"They were very persuasive, I"ll admit. But it wasn"t anything they said or did that convinced me."

"No?"

"It was the sound of your voice when you called from Bali."

"You were there, listening?"

"Every word. How did the boar taste, by the way?"

She chuckled. "Don"t ask."

"It was your laughter. It lit the room," Ian said gravely. "After hearing you, I couldn"t turn away. I think maybe I fell in love with you then."

Her eyes widened. "But-"

Ian made a curt sound and ran a hand through his hair. "Don"t push me, Jamee. No more questions. Not now." His gaze moved over the orchard, then uphill to the house. "I"m a fool to keep you out here. The only good thing is that everyone will know I"ve been out here kissing you senseless. Anyone watching will realize that they"ll have to get throughme to get to you."

Jamee gave a crooked smile. "I thought I was kissingyou senseless, McCall."

He didn"t return her smile. "Let"s call it a draw."

IAN WALKEDher back to the house, aware of several sidelong looks. No doubt Rob"s story had already begun to circulate.

Ian didn"t care. He was supposed to be a man besotted, head over heels in love. The performance would be amazingly easy.

At the hall stairs he caught Jamee"s hand and pulled her to a halt. "Wait."

"Why are we stopping here?"

"I didn"t finish before." Ian slid a hand beneath her chin and raised her head. "Look." A sprig of mistletoe hung from a braid of holly and dried lavender.

"You Scotsmen seem to be up on all the legends."

"Oh, we observe all the ones that count." Ian drew her closer.

"Ian, I-" Jamee felt her pulse quicken. She tried to think straight, struggling to use some of her God-given logic, but it always seemed to desert her when she was around Ian. "Is this another part of your masquerade?" she murmured.

His hands tightened over her waist. "Tell me if this feels like a masquerade."

The kiss was slow and searching. Tiny lights on the Christmas tree winked off and on, casting a glow over their faces. Jamee inhaled the tang of pine needles and the citrus scent of Ian"s skin. Just as always, she lost all sense of the outside world, all sense of reason when she was anchored in his arms.

Behind them three of the models giggled. Someone cleared his throat. "I"m delighted to see that the mistletoe isn"t going to waste."

Jamee stiffened and turned to see Duncan smiling benignly from the staircase, flanked by Kara"s curious models.

"Just testing it out," Ian murmured. "It seems quite satisfactory."

"I"m delighted you approve," Duncan said. "Now, if Jamee would like the full tour of Rose Cottage, I"d be happy to oblige. Rob is understandably too frightened to take anyone anywhere after the mishap."

"My fault," Ian murmured. "I"ll talk to him later." As he spoke, his hand curved protectively on Jamee"s shoulder.

"If you"re up to it, lunch will be served in fifteen minutes."

ALL THROUGH LUNCHEONJamee smiled and chatted but she felt the suffocating lack of control overwhelm her. She was too vulnerable, too much on display, and Ian"s unshakable control of his own emotions only made her more irritated.

Despite Jamee"s discreet tugging, he did not release her hand as the other guests gathered to join them for lunch in a sunny room with green damask walls.

"You can let go of my hand now," she whispered. "There"s no need to pretend. No one is watching under the table."

"I like holding your hand," Ian murmured. His eyes darkened as he slid her palm against his thigh, then turned to answer a question of Duncan"s.

Jamee fumed. How could he be so calm and stoic whileshe sat in a daze, bewildered by a thousand conflicting emotions?

It wasn"tfair. Why should Ian McCall show total control whenshe was turning into mush?

Beneath the table, her leg brushed against Ian"s. For a moment, their thighs touched. Jamee saw Ian go very still, his jaw clenched.

Maybe hewasn"t in total control after all.

"And what do you do, Lord Glenlyle?" the model named Tania asked, her eyes narrowed.

"I have a castle north of here."

"What kind of castle? Is it bigger than Dunraven?"

"It"s big enough," Ian said calmly.

"I"m sure it is." Tania batted her eyelashes at Ian. "Tell me more," she purred.

So he was going to be calm and civilized, was he? Beneath the table, Jamee"s fingers moved to Ian"s thigh.

Ian didn"t move. His voice didn"t change by a shade as he answered the model"s questions.

"Something old and drafty, I"m afraid. We have no Victorian angels hanging from the rafters and no steam trains traveling around the Three Wise Men."

"You do have bears," Duncan interposed.

"Bears?" The model laughed seductively. "I"ll bet they wear kilts, too. I"d love to seeyou in a kilt," she gushed.

Ian"s cool smile didn"t waver.

Blast the man and blast the giggling female who couldn"t stop staring at him. Jamee explored higher, her fingers gently nuzzling suddenly rigid muscle.

Then she froze. The full male power of him pressed against her palm, barely restrained by wool flannel. Her pulse hammered as she felt his heat beneath her fingers.

Ian"s head turned. His eyes gleamed, hard and smoky, promising sweet, sweet revenge.

"By the way, whatdo you Scotsmen wear beneath your kilts?" Tania asked throatily.

"Nothing, of course."

Jamee blinked, mesmerized by the heat in Ian"s eyes. The tumid muscle grew harder beneath her hand. She moistened her dry lips and flushed, suddenly aware that she was playing with fire.

Silently, Ian caught her wrist beneath the table, then moved her hand onto her own thigh. His fingers opened, tracing the soft skin through her skirt. Jamee sat frozen, unable to move. Her left hand tightened on her water glass as Ian dipped beneath her skirt and found the curve of her inner thigh. Slowly, he traced the sensitive skin above her stockings.

With every movement, heat poured through her in delicious waves.

"Enough of this talk about kilts," Duncan said tensely. "What about you, Miss Night? You"ve traveled all over the world, I understand. Perhaps you"ll share some of your wilder tales.

Nicholas Draycott assures me you have quite a few."

Jamee swallowed hard. Her wildest experience was taking place right now. She shivered as Ian"s relentless fingers moved up her inner thigh. She wanted him to stop, even as she prayed he would continue.She was in control, after all. That was what she had to prove to both of them. "Er, that must have been Bali. In the jungle. It was-hot. Very hot." Ian"s hand eased slowly upward. "They were burning silkworm cocoons in the fields. An absolute waste. I said I would take everything they could give me."

"Everything?" Ian murmured silkily. As he spoke, his hand glided higher.

Jamee nodded, feeling electricity hum where Ian"s fingers continued their hot, stroking climb.

"I understand that the chief was interested in marrying you," Duncan said.

Ian"s fingers tensed.

"Actually, it was the chief"s son," Jamee couldn"t keep the breathlessness from her voice. "I would have been wife number fourteen. Das offered to pay six knives and a cow for me."

"Das?" Ian muttered.

"We-got to be fairly close. His offer was some kind of record, I was told."

Ian brushed her sensitive flesh, his eyes narrowed. "And what did you say to the chief"s proposal?" As he spoke, his fingers splayed open, only inches from the warm delta at the juncture of her thighs.

Her sanity shredding fast, Jamee raised her chin and smiled sweetly. "I told the chief I never mix business with pleasure, of course." If her laugh sounded shaky, no one seemed to notice in the general laughter that followed.

Only Ian sat unmoving without the hint of a smile. His focus was savage in its intensity. "No?"

he murmured.

And then his hand curved, palming the sleek folds covered by the sheerest barrier of silk.

Jamee drew a ragged breath. Desire rippled through her, spurred by each knowing movement of Ian"s fingers. His exploration was slow and sweet, and Jamee felt her traitorous body yield to his touch even as her mind struggled to remain aloof.

The conversation ebbed and flowed around them, but Ian"s dark eyes never left her. It was obvious that he felt every detail of Jamee"s response. "Never?" he murmured, finding the lacy edge of silk and inching past.

Jamee cleared her throat. "N-never."

The conversation shifted again. Somebody laughed at one of Hidoshi"s jokes and then chairs scraped against marble.

Jamee barely noticed, trapped by the hunger in Ian"s eyes. His face was hard, his jaw tense as he eased deeper, parting her silken skin. He made a low sound, then sheathed himself inside her.

Jamee sat frozen. She couldn"t wriggle free. Moving was impossible. The table was empty except for the two of them now and she was drowning in his eyes, feeling everything unravel inside her. With each slow brush of his callused fingers, pleasure surged through her body and her heart slammed in aching anticipation.

She bit her lip, unable to stop thinking about what he was doing.

Unable to stop wanting him to do more.

Her hand tightened around her wineglass. Beneath the table, her dewy skin parted layer by layer beneath his fingers. She felt desire shimmer through her, pulsing and hot like a mirage that faded endlessly into the horizon.

"Ian, I-"

"They"re gone, Jamee. We"re alone here. At last, dammit. God, how I"ve wanted to feel you."

His voice was thick, smoky with desire. "Let me touch you now."

"I can"t-I don"t-"

Colors Jamee had only experienced in dreams teased her eyes. A low sound caught on her lips and she barely managed to bite it down as a rush of blinding pleasure slammed through her.

The world blurred. Sound faded. She shuddered, falling deep, delight like a summer wind that kissed her very soul. Tremors seized her legs, her arms, and she tightened her hands as he slid a fraction deeper, a fraction faster. A shudder tore through her as she felt Ian"s lips brush her face, her eyelids. Patterns of joy danced through her being, driving her toward a peak that had no end. Then she was over, gasping. Flying. Lost in blind sensation.

Ian whispered her name hoarsely as his hand stilled. His forehead was dotted with sweat and his jaw was clenched. "Sweet God," he said raggedly, easing away from her slick heat. "I must be mad."

Too late. Waves crested. Color flashed anew, worked in the magic of his retreating touch. She shattered, dizzy and lost, entranced by the only man who had unlocked the secrets of her heart.

Ian cursed softly and bent closer. "Dammit, Jamee, I want you." He took a hard breath. "It"s the last thing I should be thinking about, and yet I want you now."

Hunger blazed in his eyes. His hand lay on the table, rigid. His face was pale.

No, he wasn"t immune, Jamee realized. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

Her body shivered in the aftermath of his knowing touch.

"Say the word, Jamee," he whispered. "Say the word and to hell with everything else. Maybe it"s time we made this masquerade real."

Her hand settled over his cheek and she felt the rigid line of the muscle beneath.

He was a man of honor. If they went upstairs now, he would hate himself for betraying his duty. He would always believe he had endangered her by a lapse of control he could never forgive.

"You don"t really mean that," Jamee said softly. "Besides, I don"t want your mind wandering when I finally get you into bed, Lord Glenlyle. I"m picky that way." She gave a crooked smile.

"You see, I want all the time in the world."

Ian"s eyes closed. "I"ll give you what I have when this is over. Then we can both think clearly."

"I mean to hold you to that promise, Scotsman. Otherwise I"ll send my brothers after you, fearsome in all their wrath."

"They"ve never fought a Scotsman before," Ian said gruffly.

"True, but you"ve never fought a Night before, either."