He smiled, eager to share with her his good fortune. “I assume Wade is the moron who betrayed you?”
“Yes, and he’s loaded. Old money from New England.”
“Loaded?” Damian found American English confusing at times.
“Rich. Wealthy. Affluent.” She regarded him with an adorable pout. “You know, loaded.”
“Aye, I understand.” Damian cleared his throat and pulled her into an embrace. “Then it gives me great pleasure to tell you, sweet lass, that I, too, am loaded.”
“How?” She pulled away slightly. “What do you do for a living, Damian?”
“I’m a writer.”
Her lips formed that adorable oval again. She kissed his cheek, and a fire ignited within him.
“I could write thirty pages on the color of your lips alone. Or your sparkling gray eyes. Or your incredible breasts.”
He winked. She blushed. Damian wondered if the color stopped at her neck or kept going. He hoped it kept going. His cock was granite hard in his trousers. How was he going to make it through this evening?
“I want to hear all about your writing. You’re obviously very successful, to be able to afford—”
He cut her off with a kiss, nibbling across her upper lip and then the lower, and flicked his tongue in the seam until she parted for him. He kissed her slowly, possessively, tasting every crevice of her mouth. She sighed into him, surrendering, and he deepened his assault and plundered her. He slid his hands down the neckline of her shirt in search of those plump breasts.
She pulled away, catching her breath. “I-I was in the middle of a s-sentence.”
“Aye.”
“And you kissed me. You cut me off.”
“Aye. A kiss in the middle of a sentence. One of the ways to woo a woman.”
Suzanne burst into giggles. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“Wooing, love. Don’t you want to be wooed?”
“Uh, sure, I guess.” She smiled at him. “Exactly what is going on here?”
“My Da said I should stop pushing you and start wooing you.”
Suzanne cupped his cheeks and smiled into his eyes, the golden flecks in her irises dancing. “You are the sweetest man on the planet, Damian MacGowan.” She giggled again. “Just angelic.”
“Ah, so the wooing is working, then?”
She kissed his lips, brushing her mouth softly over his. “It’s working so well, in fact, that if you keep it up, we’ll never get to dinner.”
“Well, then.” He pulled her into his arms and lowered his head.
“But—” She pushed him away. “You promised me a date. And I’m starving. So let’s go, okay? I can’t wait to see Thurso.”
17
Isabella dusted off the two books she found in the bottom drawer of her grandmother’s bureau.
Book of Shadows.
Merlina was a witch?
Suzanne might be on a date with the gorgeous Damian MacGowan, but Isabella’s body hummed with excitement over her find. With hope in her heart and a smile on her face, she opened the first leather-bound volume.
18
“I don’t have to eat haggis, do I?”
Damian erupted in laughter, and Suzanne savored the joyful sound. Had she never heard him laugh before? No, she hadn’t. She smiled, despite the nausea that thoughts of sheep stomach and innards caused. The restaurant was small and homey, and delicious aromas of garlic and spice wafted around the dining room.
“Not too excited by the prospect, eh, love?”
“Can’t say that I am.”
“Don’t tell my Da, but I don’t much like the stuff either. I was thinking more along the line of seafood. We’re right on the coast, and it’s all fresh and delicious. Do you like seafood?”
“Mmm. I love it.” Suzanne closed her eyes. “Except for calamari. It’s too rubbery.”
“I’m not talking about calamari.”
“Fish and chips, then?
Damian laughed again. What a nice sound! “This isn’t a London pub, love. I’m talking about fresh seafood. Mussels and scallops. Or salmon. Scotland has wonderful salmon.”
“I love salmon. It’s my favorite fish.”
“Salmon it is, then.” He took her hand. “Do you mind if I order for you?”
“Is that another way to woo a woman?” What fun it was to banter! His demeanor had been so serious before.
He shook his head, and his beautiful mouth curved into a grin. “No, Suzanne. I just thought I might show you some of my favorites. Tell me, is there anything you absolutely won’t eat?”
“I have a pretty sophisticated palate, actually, but there are a few things. Goat cheese, for example. I can’t stand the stuff.”
“Aye. What else?”
“Um, let’s see. Not crazy about beets, but other than that, I like most veggies. And lamb. Too gamey for me. But I like all other meats.”
“All right. I’ve a good idea of what to order, then.” He gestured to the server. “We’ll have the cream of cauliflower soup with caramelized onions, organic salmon with crushed potatoes, green beans, and Arran mustard sauce, and berry trifle for dessert.” He turned to Suzanne. “Is a light red wine good for you? Or do you prefer white with fish?”