“You’re the very best kind of scandal,” he grumbled as he headed for the door to the room. At least, that’s what she thought he said. “I didn’t hear you.” “You’re the very worst kind of scandal,” he said, louder. That wasn’t what he had said. She couldn’t keep her smile from her face. “What does that mean?” “You’re the kind of scandal a man wants to claim for his own.” She gaped at him. She’d never in her life heard something so romantic. And she certainly hadn’t expected it to come from the mouth of this massive, moody Scot.
