LITMIR.BIZ

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thing, and she ended up feeling hollow and light-headed and sort of…fizzy.

      She made herself look away.

      ‘Anyway,’ Corran went on, fortunately unaware of her reaction, ‘the chances are that my mother will have forgotten all about Pookie by the time she gets home. She’ll have moved on to some new enthusiasm, and it’ll be, Oh, darling, I’m sure he’d be so much happier if he stayed with you. And then I’ll be stuck with him!’ Corran shook his head. ‘Another ten years or so of calling a dog Pookie! Meg won’t be able to hold her head up with the shame of it! At least she’s a proper dog, who can bring the sheep in off the hill. What’s Pookie good for?’

      ‘He’s a companion,’ Lotty managed.

      ‘I don’t need a companion,’ he said. ‘I need a dog who’s some use to me.’

      Just like he needed a wife who was some use to him, thought Lotty sadly.

      Corran moved the gear lever into first. Now his hand was near her knee. The same hand that could have stroked her neck, if only he had moved it just a little.

      Lotty wrenched her eyes away from it. Her mouth was dry. The Land Rover felt as if it had shrunk since they had driven down to Glasgow that morning. Now the sides were pressing in around her, pushing all the spare oxygen out of the vehicle and making the air twang under the pressure.

      Nothing had changed, Lotty told herself. She was the same, Corran was the same, the Land Rover was the same.

      She had spent too much time watching all those couples, that was all. It had made her twitchy. All that time she had spent reminding herself to be cool and careful around Corran, and now she might as well not have bothered. She was agonisingly aware of him beside her, and she shifted in her seat, desperate to find a way to convince him—or herself—that her heart wasn’t pounding and her throat wasn’t tight. Everything was just the same.

      ‘The children will love Pookie,’ she made herself say.

      Corran stared at her. ‘What children?’

      ‘Well… I presume you’re thinking of having a family?’

      ‘I’m not married yet!’

      ‘Loch Mhoraigh would be a lovely place to bring up children,’ Lotty persevered, not even sure why she was making such a big deal of it. ‘You should have lots, and make sure their childhood isn’t like yours.’

      Corran swung the Land Rover into the main road and put his foot on the accelerator. ‘I haven’t got time for any of that,’ he said briskly. ‘I’ve got the cottages to finish, an estate to get back on its feet, and then—maybe!—I can turn my attention to the house and finding another wife. It’ll be time enough then to talk about having children,’ he said. ‘That’s years down the line! Having a child now would be a disaster, just like it was for my parents. I’ve got far more important things to think about before then.’

      ‘Like what?’

      ‘Like getting new breeding stock, improving my herds. I need to buy some good rams in October.’

      ‘I’ve hardly seen any sheep,’ Lotty realised.

      ‘That’s because they’re all up on the hills at the moment. You’ll see plenty come September when we take the sheep to market,’ said Corran.

      But in September she would be gone. ‘I’d like to see that,’ Lotty said in a level voice, ‘but I won’t be here then.’

      She looked out of the window, suddenly bleak. In September she would be back in Montluce, back to her life as Princess Charlotte, always good, always obliging. A princess who never behaved badly. Who never sulked or lost her temper or felt herself burning up with desire.

      And Corran would be here, taking his sheep to market, Meg at his heels and Pookie under his feet, bringing the estate back to life, without her.

      Perhaps it would all be for the best. If her grandmother finally gave up the idea of her marrying Philippe, Lotty might be allowed to meet someone else. There had to be some prince or count somewhere the Dowager Blanche would deem a suitable match. Someone who understood royal life, who would know how to behave and how to smile and shake hands, who would be a dignified consort for Princess Charlotte of Montluce. Then Lotty could be married and lose her tiresome virginity to her husband. It would be sweet. It would be safe. It would be sensible.

      But Lotty didn’t want sweet and sensible. She didn’t want suitable. She didn’t even want safe.

      Not yet.

      This might be the only chance she ever had to be reckless, her only chance to take what she wanted without worrying about what the papers might say, or how her grandmother would react.

      All those ancestors had had a chance to live dangerously, one way or another. Why not her?

      A little fling, a brief affair… Was that so much to ask for?

      Absently Lotty rubbed her thumb over her poor, cracked fingernails and allowed herself to revisit the question that had been simmering at the back of her mind ever since that first bath at Loch Mhoraigh.

      Why not ask Corran?

      Under her lashes, she watched Corran driving with the same cool competence he did everything else. The long, solid body was relaxed, his eyes narrowed, the big hands very sure on the wheel. The flex of muscles in his thigh when he braked sent such a surge of lust through her that she was dizzy with it.

      It wasn’t as if Corran was involved with anyone else. He was a free agent, and so was she.

       So why not?

      Of course, she wasn’t Corran’s type. He’d made it clear that he was looking for quite a different kind of woman, but that just made it better, didn’t it? There would be no problem about her leaving after a couple of months. She could say goodbye and he would never know who she really was. Not that Lotty thought Corran was the kind of man who would tattle to the tabloids, but who knew really? How I seduced virgin princess was a story some papers would pay a lot of money for, and the Mhoraigh estate was badly in need of cash.

      Besides, she didn’t want him to know she was a princess. She wanted him to think of her as an ordinary girl. She wanted him to make love to her as an ordinary girl. She couldn’t bear it if he suddenly started treating her carefully. No, she wouldn’t tell him, ever.

      He was single, attractive, and they were alone together most of the time. If she wanted to lose her virginity, Lotty thought, she might never have a better chance.

      Why not Corran?

      The sensible side of Lotty, the side that wasn’t giddy with desire, pointed out that she had no idea how to go about seducing a man and that, even if she did, Corran wasn’t the kind of man who would fall for any tricks. There was something dauntingly unflirtable about him. She simply wouldn’t dare.

      So there was no point in thinking about it any more.

      Only that didn’t stop her nerves crisping every time Corran reached for the gearstick between them. Every time he shifted his hands on the wheel or flicked a glance up at the rear view mirror, she found herself sucking in her breath. And every time she would wonder what it would be like if she did dare ask him to be her lover.

      Because then she would be able to put her hand on that long, tantalising thigh. She would be able to look at the uncompromising line of his jaw without feeling sick with longing.

      She would know what it felt like to press her lips to his throat. She would know the hard planes of his body, the shift of his muscles, the touch of his hands.

      Lotty began to feel feverish. Fixing her eyes desperately on the road ahead, she swallowed and twisted her fingers together.

      ‘Are you all right?’

      Corran’s abrupt question made her jump. ‘Fine,’ she said brightly. Too brightly. ‘Absolutely fine.’

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