Prince of Desire Read Free Page B

noticing that he’d let her look her fill. “Are you hungry? We serve some of the best food around.”
    “I'm famished.”
    Somehow she knew he wasn't referring to food. Chills raced down her spine and her heart pounded against her ribs as his eyes moved to her mouth.  
    Excitement. Exhilaration.
    Anticipation.
    She felt those things and more, so much more she couldn’t even begin to name.   Isabelle had never cared for strangers, and usually kept a clear path from them.   It wasn’t difficult in her small village tucked away in the Highlands.   No one sought out their village willingly.
    Yet Lucian was here.   And she couldn’t seem to stay away from him.
    Isabelle tucked her hand behind her back when she found herself reaching up to comb her fingers through his hair.   She didn’t know what was wrong with her.
    “What are you serving tonight?”
    “Mrs. MacDonald makes excellent haggis, but she’s also made a big pot of stew that will make your mouth water.”
    Lucian's wide mouth pulled into a smile. “I'll take the stew and an ale.”
    Isabelle moved toward the kitchen to get his order.   The need to return to him quickly made her nerves frazzled, and her already rapid heartbeat quickened.   She told herself it was because he was different from the men in her village, but the truth was…he stirred her. It had been so long since she had found anything exciting that she was drawn to him like the flowers to the sun.
    “Isabelle, lass, are you all right?” Mrs. MacDonald asked as Isabelle hurried into the kitchen.
    A laugh bubbled up inside her. She was anything but all right when Lucian was around. Isabelle smoothed the strands of hair away from her face. “Another order of your stew, Mrs. MacDonald.”
    “Ach, I'm glad I made a big pot this time, though I fear I just might run out soon,” she said as she spooned the delicious stew into a bowl. “Tell me who it is that has made your face glow.”
    Isabelle blinked. “Pardon?”
    “You heard me, lass. I may be old, but I still remember what it was like to have a man notice me, especially when I was interested in that man.”
    Isabelle laughed as she grabbed a spoon. “Mrs. MacDonald, I hope you're speaking of Mr. MacDonald.”
    She winked as she handed Isabelle the bowl. “Of course, lass, of course. Now,” she said as she walked to the door. “Point him out to me so I can tell you if he's good enough for you.”
    “I doubt you'll be able to tell me that.”
    “Why is that, dearling?”  
    Isabelle reached the door and stared at Lucian. “He's new to the village.”
    “Ah, a stranger.   We don’t get many of those around here.   Mayhap that’s just what you’re needing, lass.   The men left in this village aren’t worth much of anything.” Mrs. MacDonald leaned out and looked around the room. “'Tis the dark man by the door. I see the way his eyes search the room, as if he is looking for something,” she straightened and looked at Isabelle, “or someone.”
    Isabelle smiled. “Just because he's added a little excitement doesn't mean anything.”
    “It does if he is the same man that rescued you last night.”
    “He’s the same man.”
    Mrs. MacDonald mumbled something to herself and went back to her cooking. Isabelle walked through the doorway to the bar. She set the bowl of stew down and reached for a goblet.  
    “We're busy tonight,” Mr. MacDonald said from beside her.
    “Aye. I’ll sleep well, that's for sure.”
    “Who’s the stranger?”
    She knew he would ask. Mr. MacDonald always made sure to know who it was that visited his tavern. “Lucian. He's the man who saved me last eve.”
    His wrinkled face brightened. “Then give him his meal and ale free. Anyone who would put their own lives at risk to help you deserves no less.”
    Isabelle nodded and took the bowl and ale to Lucian.
    “Smells delicious,” Lucian said as he took the bowl.
    Isabelle took a step back, making herself put distance between them.