Jennifer Ashley: The Madness Of Lord Ian Mackenzie

“I hope so.”

“Why?” He closed his fingers over the fabric, crushing the taffeta. “Why would you hope he’d be like me?” “Well, he might be a she. And I can’t think of anything better than a child who’s just like his father.” She let her voice go low, seductive. “Especially when that father is you.” Ian didn’t look reassured. “He’s a Mackenzie. He’ll be mad.”

“But he’ll have an advantage. He’ll have a father and uncles who understand.” She smiled. “Or she. If it’s a girl, of course, she will be perfect.”

“I agree,” Ian said gravely.

Beth started to explain her jest, then looked up at him in surprise. “Was that a joke, Ian Mackenzie?” “You are teaching me. He leaned down to her. “With your spicy tongue.”

Beth darted out the tongue in question. “Does it taste spicy?”

“Yes.” He slid his thumb in a slow caress across her bottom lip. “But let me taste it again.”

He crushed her up to him, his hands cupping her bottom. Down the hill, Isabella laughed and the Mackenzie brothers and Daniel broke, into a rousing cheer. Then sound swirled and became meaningless as lan’s mouth covered hers, and his body curved over her. She felt the firm, hard ridge of his arousal through their layers of clothes, and her heart beat with sudden heat. Carnal pleasure, indeed, offered by the maddening Lord Ian Mackenzie.

Beth took it.