Ian came in carrying a bottle and two glasses. Her eyes met his, and in the diminishing light of the cabin, she saw something—desire perhaps—flicker in them. She hoped so. It would make this entire seduction easier if he wanted her as much as she did him. Placing her bookmark between the pages, she closed the book and set it down, then stood to help him with the glasses he held.
“Seamus, our cook, is still preparing dinner, so I asked him to bring us a tray when he was done.” He pulled the cork from the bottle and poured the wine. “In the meantime, I brought us something to drink as he didn’t have an opportunity to make grog this afternoon because of the weather.”
“Wine will do, though I was wondering earlier if you had tea. I’ve discovered I’m not fond of the grog. Even the weakest stuf
