An Invitation to Pleasure Read Online Free PDF

of her back. There were surely enough ingredients in this pudding to feed an entire village. She very much doubted she’d have been able to move the spoon without Fergus’s help.
    Two times, three times, clockwise they stirred. Already Susanna’s arm ached. She braced herself, bending over the iron pot. Before she could straighten, Fergus put his free arm around her waist to hold her there. This time when they stirred the pudding, their bodies rotated together. Five times, then six. They paused to change direction, but he did not let her go. They stirred, and their bodies moved together, her bottom nestled into his thighs. Slower, round again, and she forgot about her aching arm and thought only of the way he felt against her skirts.
    His hand tightened on her waist. His breath was sharp and shallow on her neck. Was he as enthralled by what they were doing now, in front of the kitchen staff, as she was? Their stirring slowed to a mesmerising, arousing rhythm.
    The applause startled them both. Susanna dropped the spoon, Fergus dropped Susanna. His cheeks were bright with colour. ‘I had not thought a pudding could be so captivating,’ he whispered amid the cheering. Handing the spoon back to the cook, she caught the woman’s knowing glance. Mrs MacDonald said something to Fergus which made him laugh, but he would not translate it. Instead he bowed, Susanna curtseyed, and the crowd dispersed.
    ‘Those kitchens were hotter than hell,’ Fergus said to her as they made their way through the warren of still rooms and pantries to the green baize door which marked the end of the servant’s quarters. ‘Though not as hot as the company.’
    ‘Indeed,’ Susanna replied with eyes downcast.
    ‘I doubt I’ll be able to eat a slice of Clootie dumpling again without thinking of you, now.’
    They were in the great hall, which was deserted save for the four sleek deerhounds snoozing at the fire. Susanna turned, trying hard to bite back her smile. ‘If that is meant to be a compliment, Laird, allow me to tell you that it is one of the most backhanded I have ever received.’
    ‘Aye, but it has the distinction of being the most unusual too, you’ll admit. And a mite more respectable than telling you what I was really thinking.’
    He had a wicked gleam in his eye. Susanna had not thought herself the type of woman who enjoyed flirting, but this was flirting that could lead nowhere. She liked the edge of it, and she liked that the edge held no danger, so she surrendered to the teasing look in his amber eyes and his curving smile. ‘What then, were you really thinking?’
    ‘That you have the most delightful curve to your rear. I was wondering if it was even more delightful without all those petticoats between us. That is something I’d dearly like to find out.’
    ‘A rounded rear being an absolute requirement for a laird’s wife?’
    ‘Such a necessity, I think I should maybe just see whether you fit the bill,’ the laird said, putting his arms around her waist.
    ‘Fergus, we are in the great hall, someone might see us.’
    ‘Isn’t that the point?’ he whispered wickedly.
    His hands slid down to cup her bottom. Susanna’s back arched of its own accord as his hands buried deeper into her skirts. Something that sounded shockingly like a whimper escaped her as his lips brushed the sensitive flesh just behind her ear. It was delightful. Too delightful. She wriggled free from his embrace. ‘Well, do I pass the test?’
    ‘With flying colours. But you are quite right,’ Fergus agreed, ‘we must not waste our act playing to an empty house. A walk in the snow will do us both good, and they are expecting us in the village.’
    Over the passing days, there were many customs and rituals, plenty occasions for public shows of affection. Kisses under the mistletoe that stopped only when their audience cheered. The throwing of the lucky horseshoe made by the smithy which, like the pudding stirring, seemed to require Susanna to