The Soldier's Rebel Lover

He frowned, pushing his hair back from his brow, though it was cut considerably shorter than before, and there was no need. ‘Very well, Señorita Romero, you have my word that I will keep quiet about your patriotic past. After all, we Scots have a well-earned reputation for being canny and shrewd businessmen with an eye for a profit,’ he concluded wryly.

‘Thank you. I— Thank you.’ Her relief was apparent in her voice, but so it should be. ‘It is better, I think, for the past to remain in the past now the war is over.’ They were Xavier’s words, and often uttered. Isabella rolled her eyes metaphorically as she spoke them.

The Scotsman, however, looked—sad? ‘You think so?’ he asked. ‘You really want to forget it happened?’ He leaned back against the trunk of a tree, head back, looking up at the pale expanse of sky visible through the foliage. ‘All that sacrifice, all those lives lost. Now that Boney is stuck on an island in the middle of the Atlantic, at least we are done with wars for a while.’

‘And there is no more requirement for soldiers to fight them,’ Isabella said softly, as understanding dawned. And empathy.

‘No, there’s not.’ He stood up, rolling his shoulders. ‘So now I buy and sell wine, and you sit at home embroidering or knitting or whatever it is fine Spanish ladies do.’

She couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Oh, if you want an example of the perfect Spanish lady, you must look to my sister-in-law. Consuela can set a perfect stitch, sing a perfect song, bear a perfect child, and all the while smiling a perfect smile. She is a bloodless creature.’

‘I think she is simply very young and very shy and very overwhelmed by all this,’ Finlay said, nodding back at the house. ‘She misses her sisters.’

‘She told you all that while you were dancing? It is more than she has ever seen fit to tell me.’ Isabella shook her head incredulously. ‘You must have misunderstood. Her family would be welcome to visit any time. She only has to issue an invitation.’ She waited for him to answer her implied question, but he said nothing. ‘What is it, what did she say to you?’

‘I never break a confidence. You’ll have to ask her yourself.’

‘A confidence! You only met her last night, and she is confiding in you.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.’

The Scotsman touched her cheek. Isabella jerked away. ‘Why should I be offended? Consuela is very beautiful, and you are very charming, and if she chose to speak to you of matters that—well, that is none of my business.’

‘She is indeed beautiful, but in the manner of a painting, you know. You can admire her, and you are happy to look at her, but as to anything else...’

‘But that is exactly what I was thinking about Gabriel only last night.’

‘The Adonis who looked down his nose at me? What is he to you?’

It was none of his business, but it was so refreshing to talk to a man who actually spoke what was on his mind and expected her to return the favour. ‘He is my brother’s best friend. They were in the army together. My brother hopes to make a match between us. It would be a very good match for me.’

‘But it would also be—what was your phrase—bloodless.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean you don’t find the idea of kissing him appealing. You see, that’s the difference between you and your brother’s wife. While I’m more than happy to look at her, I don’t feel the slightest inclination to kiss her.’

Isabella’s mouth went dry, and her pulses fluttered. The Scotsman’s fingers circled her wrist loosely. She could easily free herself. His other hand rested on her shoulder. She seemed to be standing very close to him. ‘I am very glad,’ she said, ‘because I think Xavier’s hospitality has limits.’

He laughed softly. ‘You know that I would very much like to kiss you, don’t you?’

‘I think you wanted to, two years ago.’

‘It’s something I’ve often regretted, that I did not.’

Her heart was pounding wildly. She was playing with fire, but she was enjoying it far too much to stop. She was so rarely afforded the freedom to be herself. It was exhilarating. ‘It is something I, too, have regretted, that you did not,’ Isabella said daringly.

She had surprised him. She could see from the way his eyes darkened that she had also aroused him, and that knowledge heightened her own awareness of him. ‘There is nothing worse than regret,’ he said.

‘Nothing,’ she agreed.

He made no move for a long moment, and despite the longing twisting inside her, she had reached the limits of her boldness. If he did not kiss her now, he never would. If he did not kiss her now, she would always wonder. If he did not kiss her...