A steamy, sizzling trip back to a more genteel time where men were men and women were there for their pleasure.  And no one seemed to mind the fact.  Ah...for the good old days.

Ian McCown is bored, pure and simple. 

His life, of late, is nothing but work and drudgery, it seems and then, Katelyn Fahey came into that life and out of the blue, things perked up.

Katelyn with her curvy figure and wild red hair and deep-set smoke eyes that look through a man's soul.  

That Irish temper heats Ian's blood. Life will never be boring with that one, he senses.

Trouble is, she is the sister of one of his closest friends, and Charles Fahey guards his little sister vigilantly...her reputation and her heart.  

Is it worth the trouble to lose a long-time friend?  

No, of course not but it is very difficult to get that woman out of one's head, Ian is learning the hard way...

Quotes:  Lord McCown's Mistress

The woman pushed her assailant back over, arising with difficulty, her brow beaded. "See how you like it, then" she stared down at the man. "And, I was right!" she shook her head at his exposed 'part'. "Little was the operative word!"

She walked the area, gathering her things, slinging her pack unto her shoulder as she headed for a clearing a few meters away. She could not stay here after all, mayhap she could...

"Care to try mine?" a masculine voice drawled lazily from the shadows directly ahead.

Katelyn gasped, startled, pulling up short. There was more of them?

"If 'little' offends you, that is." The 'voice' quipped.

"Did you, sir..." she placed her hands before her primly. "Come here to seduce me?"

Ian remained silent, his eyes never leaving the small, pixyish features. His insides churning chaotically, truth known.

"One of many, I will wager." She lifted beautifully arched brows. "Is this where it begins?" she motioned about the area. "Most romantic...I approve. At least...the setting."

"I did not come here to seduce you, girl." Her words not only angered him, they hurt him, for some unknown reason. Ian needed to 'hurt' back. "I came here to fuck you."

He witnessed her stiffen, but still could not stop the words or emotions pouring forth from within.

"I came...to bend you over that bloody bench, lift your skirts and take you from behind...like a bitch dog in heat! That I could watch the proceedings."

" You are...attractive, in a barbaric sort of way, I suppose." She did not like the fact, clearly. "You have silver, you are knowledgeable about my species...in 'that' sort of way. Why would I not find you acceptable."

She arose, agitated. "That is hardly the point."

"The point is...I ache at night for want of you. I cannot sleep...for thinking of you..." Ian could not stop the words, once started.

"Of the many stupid things you say and do. Your damnable scent." He ran his hand through his dark hair.

"It drives me to distraction," he motioned to her. "The way you twirl the ends of your hair when you are nervous..." he closed his eyes. "Hell, I even like that! And, 'why'? God, it is so stupid a thing to 'like'."

Katelyn stopped 'twirling' her hair instantly, beyond embarrassed.

"I can hardly ravish you here, can I? Give me a fighting chance at least."

She glanced about the arbor, then...to his waiting eyes. "...Ravish?"

"Oh, aye, my lovely...and...more."

"Do you even know how to 'ravish' someone?" she clearly found his expertise in question.

"I could even throw in some 'raping and pillaging' if you like."

Those smoky eyes looked him over carefully. "And, where did you learn these fine arts, one wonders?"

"In Her Majesty's Navy."

She turned introspective for a beat. "I have heard much about...seamen."

"I am certain you have. Come." He held his hand out. "Experience one for yourself."

CHAPTER EXCERPT:

These stupid women.

They acted as if they had never seen a man without his shirt.

Katelyn studied the four specimens absently as she waited for the two elderly ladies to make up their minds over the wares in her stall.

So the McCown clan had bare chests and aye, muscular builds to be sure, and two of the men, arms the size of tree trunks but her brothers were just as tall, just as strong, and, she would wager, a hell of a sight more intelligent.

You would not see ‘Charlie or Sean' tossing about tree trunks for some silly game.

Like as not, you would not see her brothers toss anything about if it were heavy or took the least amount of exertion.

Not that they were lazy, mind you...lazy was much too mild a term for what they were.

Katelyn Fahey smiled slightly at the thought. It was her first today. Her first genuinely sincere one, that was.

She smiled politely all the time to her customers, but she hated this part of the year...well, coming to the fair...being here.

The girl glanced around seeing the colorful banners atop the many stalls. People of every size, shape and status, dressed in their best or the lowly beggars, asking for alms.

Jugglers, children playing ring-toss. Young suitors trying to impress their would-be sweethearts with their physical abilities, tossing the sheaf with pitchforks very long distances.

Pipers and drummers loudly proclaiming their arrival. The delicious smell of roasting chestnuts, pigs on spits, the grass after last night's rain.

The illegal sale of Scotch whiskey at every other booth, each disguised as legitimate wares' distributors.

Being around people made Katelyn uneasy and being around so many, made her down-right cranky. That is what her mother called it anyway...cranky.

"Do not be cranky today, Katie. It is most unbecoming in a lady."

She did not see the problem. She was not a 'lady'...would never be one, true enough.

She glanced at all the lovely 'ladies' as they strolled about in their finery just outside the outskirts of the tent in which Katelyn stood.

What was so good about being a 'lady'?

Snobbish, uppity...females who looked down on others not of their high breeding.

"Look at that Ian McGowan!" the 'lady' to her right literally swooned, her voice dripping with something, for the first time in her life, Katelyn Fahey did not even want to analyze. "He is so powerfully built! Look at those thighs. What would it be like to touch one, I wonder?"

"I would rather he touched mine." Her friend whispered, then both giggled appreciatively, their eyes or attention never once having left the man in question.

Katelyn rolled her eyes expressively. Good God! Were these women so utterly without pride?

No man was worth such prattle. She pulled her own eyes away from the man in question with stressed consternation.

Snobbish, uppity, and...stupid!

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she muttered her belief.

"You said what, dear?" one of her customers asked musingly. A few women browsed the merchandise within the tent.

"Oh, nothing, Madame." Katelyn smiled...politely. "I was simply 'wool-gathering'. Have you chosen the blue one, then?"

"Your mother does excellent work." The woman examined the shawl with loving hands.

Katelyn's eyes allowed a warmth not usually found in the light slate orbs.

"Yes, Madame, she does. Thank you." Her smile turned genuine for a beat.

"Yes, definitely the blue, I think." The silver was handed over readily. Katelyn made change and remembered to thank the woman. She waited patiently for the other to decide between the gray and the white wrap or the black and white one.

The elderly woman continued, tsking with a sigh. "Ach! Those McCown lads! Are they not something, though! Look at them...not a man about has been able to best them this day at the games. Their mother must be that proud of them, do you not think?"

Katelyn glanced to the loud commotion across the field. "Oh, they are 'something', Madame." She held her true feelings silent. "Something, indeed."

"You, being a young one, must have chosen your favorite by now, aye? You have had a ring-side seat, so to speak, all morning." The older woman teased. "Which do you prefer...no, let me guess. Ian? Or is it the younger, Angus, he being so much closer to your own age and all?"

"I simply canna choose." Katelyn answered, a serious frown on her face. "What with each being so magnificent in his own way. It makes a poor lass' brain a wee befuddled."

She glanced to the crowd once more. "It appears, they have all been spoken for, at any rate and by much more comely ones than I"

"Ach! You have a wee fine face, lass, and are so polite."

Katelyn smiled gently at the protested statement. "I know my faults, Madame, as I do my virtues. God, in His infinite wisdom, granted me many things but beauty was not one of them. I take comfort in what little He did bestow, however, and am quite satisfied that He noted me at all."

"Lass!" it was objected. "You have a charming way about you and a wee fine figure for a man to note and admire."

"Leave her be, Rosemary." The other gruffer woman approached and thumped her cane on the ground irritably.

"Stop trying to pair everyone off. She appears quite content as she is." The old eyes observed Katelyn keenly. "Do you need a man to make you complete, girl?" It was demanded.

"I do not, Madame." Katelyn answered truthfully. "Like as not, I would find one a burden, not a blessing."

The first woman gasped her shock as the other cackled her amusement.

"Finally, a woman with a head on her shoulders. Wrap this up...and tell your mother I will be needing a new coverlet for my bed next spring. I want it done in greens and roses. Can she do it then?" the parcel was handed over for Katelyn's expert touch.

"I shall tell her your preference, Mistress Lachlan. It will be waiting for you next Mayfair Day."

"If I am not about, my daughter or grandsons will pay the silver."

"Do not say such things, Milly." The other woman wrung her hands fretfully. "Of course, you will be here."

"I am...well..." it was scowled. "past the age of consent, Rosemary. Do you suppose I shall live forever? God forbid!" it was scoffed.

Katelyn held her smile, handing the shawl to the woman, dutifully 'wrapped.' "You are the loveliest woman here today, Madame. Do not go on so."

"Really?" the old woman motioned to an approaching couple. "Even more so than that 'bit-of-fluff' on Ian McGowan's arm, then?"

Katelyn looked away from the knowledgeable eyes, her heart sinking at the sight which greeted her.

She kept her features perfectly composed, however. "She canna hold a candle to you, Madame."

"Then you need these spectacles more than I, girl." The woman smiled gently.

"My mother says, beauty is in the soul, not the face." The girl stated. "Of course, she might be saying that because her own daughter is somewhat lacking in the 'face' area, now."

Katelyn quipped, her heart and mind on the man only meters from her stall, truth told.

Why choose her stall. Damnation and damnation! This day was going from bad to worse to the young girl’s chagrin.

"You have a good sense of 'self', child." Mildred Lachlan was a keen observer of life in general, always had been. "Do not be losing it anytime soon. Nor allow anyone take it from you." She added cryptically, her gaze shifting to the approaching pair.

Katelyn fell silently morose. She glanced about aimlessly for something with which to occupy her time and her hands.

She tried to ignore the constant chattering and false laughter of the woman who accompanied the male who now, stood at the entrance to the tent.

"Madame." Ian McCown bowed slightly to first, Lady Lachlan then, upon receiving no noticeable response, smiled charmingly to her friend. "My lady Ainsley...you look lovely this fine day. It is good to see you again."

The conversation was interrupted rather rudely, Katelyn thought, by the silly girl which still clung possessively to the man's arm.

Katelyn did not like the woman instantly.

She told herself it was because the girl was clearly a twit and Katelyn had never suffered the breed gladly. Not once in her twenty-one years on the face of the Earth.

She watched as the former had taken a shawl from the stall and wrapped it about her waist as she moved provocatively closer to the man. "Oh, Ian...is this not beautiful?" she posed for him. "And, do I not look breathtaking in it? Would you purchase it for me, then?"

The man watched the woman with indulgent eyes as she continued to shamelessly flirt with him. "I will wear it just for you!"

He smiled slightly. "I doubt the sincerity of that remark, Jane, but, aye...if ya want it, have it." He grasped his purse from his side. "How much, then, lass?" he turned his attention to Katelyn.

Katelyn resolutely refused to note how very handsome he was or how captivatingly emerald his eyes were. Or the ruggedly virile stubble of a day’s growth of beard upon the chiseled face.

She did note her mother's shawl about the other woman's waist.

She stepped, removing the material, an anger like she had never known flooding her being. "It is not for sale." She stated flatly. "There are other stalls down the way. Perhaps they have red ones."

Katelyn allowed the moment to hang, her eyes non-committal on the other woman.

"Why is this particular shawl not for sale?" Ian’s tone said he knew 'why.' As did the startling green eyes. "I assume, all these others are?"

"The lady said, I believe...she preferred the red." Katelyn did not like his 'tone' she discovered or the accusation in the startling eyes. "This one...belongs to me."

"It is your own personal wrap?" he persisted, sensing her dislike of his...friend.

"It is mine." Katelyn lied, but, not truly. It was her mother's property, after all.

"Yours?" he cocked his head slightly. His tone said, he knew she lied.

"As I said, so many more down the way...for your lovely lady." Katelyn smiled...politely.

She stepped inside her stall. "I am closing for the afternoon, my good women. It has been an exacting day and I have traveled far. Thank you for your kind patronage. It is greatly appreciated."

She dismissed the man airily. "Pray, tell your friends if I have, in some small way, given a degree of satisfaction. I will be here until the Fair ends."

"You are closing so early?" the man lifted surprised brows, refusing to move aside that Katelyn could close the front of the ‘shop.’

Katelyn spared the man a glance. "As I said, sir...I am fatigued." She made to pull the flap of the stall covering down. She halted her actions for his stocky frame still blocked her efforts.

"Excuse me, please...you are in my way." She scowled for the fact.

"Did you make many sales this day?" Ian inquired coolly. "I assume, with your attitude...not."

"My mother's work needs no salesmanship." She smiled...politely...again. "If I have given offense in some unforeseen way, I offer apologies, now, if you will but..."

"Do you? Sincerity is a key component in most apologies, or so I have been led to believe." He stated. "I see none here."

"Look harder." She suggested just as rudely. Her eyes chilled suddenly. "Now...move!"

"Or..." the emerald eyes danced mischievously. "...what?"

"Or...I shall move you, sir." Katelyn stated quietly, her temper flaring red-hot, though one would never know it from her demeanor.

"And, how will you manage that?" it was innocently asked.

“Is there a problem here then?” Charles Fahey sauntered on scene, but upon recognition, the dark scowl faded. “...Ian? Ian McCown?”

A quick smile replaced the first reaction the large man offered. “I saw you and Michael. Tossing the trees about like idiots. Who won?” A hand was offered.

Ian smiled a welcome, taking the strong grip in his own. “No one wins such a stupid contest. All end up with pulled groins and infected balls.”

“Ian.” Lady Lachlan’s lifted brow and disapproving tone subdued the man somewhat. “Breeding, boy.”

“I am sorry, Grandmother.” the man did not seem particularly so, to Kate’s way of thinking. “Forgive my crudeness.”

“What’s going on here? Closing so soon?” Charles turned his attention to his sister. “It is early.”

“I...have been here all morning.” Katelyn wished Charlie would not have arrived when he had. “While you and Sean have been off lolly-gagging about. I am tired.”

“How can y’ be tired.” Charles rolled disbelieving eyes. “You’ve done nothing but stand around all day. Me and Sean did the hard work.”

“Drinking at the Inn is not really all that difficult.” Katelyn snapped, embarrassed, her cheeks pinkening somewhat for she felt Ian McCown’s eyes the entire time of the exchange. “If ya want the stall opened, one of you take over for a while.

“And since when do y’ tell me what to do or what not.” Charlie thumped the side of her head...hard. “And me just about to go and bring ya some food too. I’ve a good mind not to now.”

“Did ya bring food?” Katelyn knew the answer to that one. She rubbed the sore spot on her head. “I see...not. So, if it’s all the same to you, I will go and find m’ own.”

She pushed past the man, determined to be about her way as quickly as humanly possible. And away from that blasted Ian McCown’s stare.

“Bring us something back when you’re done then.” Charles Irish accent was strong after a few pints in him.

Katelyn did not look back, just made her way amid the crowd of people milling about the grounds.

“Was there a problem?” Charles drew his eyes from the women in his stall. “A real one?”

“Your sister can be very...impolite when she wishes.” Ian grinned to lessen the statement. “I think she didn’ like my choice of companions.”

He indicated Jane Asher who even now, was attempting to flirt with Sean Fahey who was flirting right back. “I could have egged it on a bit, truth told.”

Charles waved a dismissing hand. “Aye, she can be a bitch, true enough. But, usually only with provocation, which luckily...I am quite proficient in.”

Ian laughed. “How did the meeting go with DeSaunders?”

"We sold the Dunfaces, the lot of them.” Charles was relieved, clearly.

“And the price was good?”

“Good as DeSaunders will pay.” Charlie shrugged. “We have the Galloways still. They should bring a better price, hopefully.”

“I could purchase them. There is always a need for...”

“You know I dinna do business with a friend.” Charlie was saying in his own inimitable way, he did not take what he considered charity, Ian knew. The man’s gaze was a gentle one. “We will make do this winter and next Spring, the crop should be a good one. It’s in the ground and waiting to sprout.”

“Well...if you dinna get the price you think y’ should.” Ian left the offer on the table. “Michael and I know you raise good quality beef.”

“How serious are ya, Ian.” Charlie changed subjects tactfully, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “About Jane Asher then? I am curious.”

“Do you want her then?” Ian grinned for the less than subtle statement.

“I would not turn her down.” Charlie shifted an interested glance to the woman who had the red shawl wrapped about her waist again, showing off her own wares to an admiring Sean Fahey.

“You had best have the coin to amuse her then...and the balls to get that red shawl away from her greedy little hands. Tis your sister’s, so I hear tell. And I think...not certain, mind you.” Ian was, in reality. “That Katelyn can ‘take’ Jane any day of the week. But again, it’s a fight I would pay to see...how about you?”

“Tis not Kate’s shawl.” Charles scowled. “Did she say it was?”

“In no uncertain terms.” Ian had his theory proved, his grin widening. “Charlie...do you think your sister has her cap set for me?”

Charles shifted a cool gaze. “You come within three feet of m’ sister, man...and I’ll have to kill you dead with m’ own bare hands. I ken...all about you, do I not.” The mischief was back in those amused eyes. “You are one debauched, evil bastard and I dinna want my sister mixed up with the likes of you.”

“How you paint me, Charles.” Ian managed to sound hurt. “Still, I think Katelyn is secretly pining away for me and I noted...she has filled out just fine this year in all the right places. It may behoove me to check out m’ theory, if only for your sister’s sake.”

“Check out all y’ want, man. Just be sure and leave a message where y’ want your remains to be lain out.” Charlie sighed lightly. “I’ll see you have a decent burial, as it’s the least I can do for ya.”

Ian’s grin widened. “We know where we stand then.”

“Ya want the shawl or not?” Charles asked...politely.

“You buy it.” Ian pulled an incredulous look. “You’ll be the one taking her home this fine night, not me.”

“Not home...but somewhere private and quiet, I’m thinking.” Charles, moved off, in search of his prey.

Ian shook a woeful head, turning about, going to seek out his own clan. God knows where they were scattered in this motley lot of people.

His best bet was the Inn...he made a beeline for the opened doors.

If he happened to come upon Katelyn Fahey in the process, all the better. That woman had filled out just fine over this last season and that red hair hanging down her back and over her shoulders? All the better.

Ian could still feel the effect of those arresting smoke eyes challenging him so obstinately. They made his blood heat and his cock swell. And that damnable temper?

Life would never be dull with one such as that vixen, he was thinking. Life had been ever so dull around here of late.

About time something came along to hold his attention and tweak his interest.