Thirty Nights With a Highland Husband

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Thirty Nights With a Highland Husband Page 2

by Melissa Mayhue


  She carefully tucked the strip of cloth from his plaid into the velvet pouch with the emerald necklace and tied the strings, smiling broadly. She had very special plans for that little piece of cloth. And for her nephew.

  When they reached the Faerie Glen she would tap into the source of the power and say the words that would allow the magic to travel within the pendant, guiding it wherever it needed to go to find the very special one it sought.

  CHAPTER 2

  Denver, Colorado

  Present Day

  “Damn it. Why couldn’t I do something, say something?” Caitlyn Coryell slammed her front door and threw her keys across the room, where they bounced off the wall.

  This is just great. Now she was talking out loud to herself. Surely just one more thing for Richard to criticize. “ ‘Just who do you think you are?’ That’s what I should have said to Richard.” Cate shook her head. “I should have said something, anything, to Richard.” Instead she’d just let him usher her out, like she was a small child. Like nothing at all had happened.

  Cate walked woodenly down the hall to her bedroom, kicking off her sandals and tossing all her packages onto the middle of her bed. She went back to the living room and flopped onto the sofa, pulling her legs up until she could rest her forehead on her knees.

  “I’m so pathetic.” Maybe Richard is right. Wasn’t he always? Maybe it was all her fault. If she could just be more . . .

  “More what,” she mumbled, absently twisting the diamond ring on her left hand. “Not more. Less. Less like me.” Cate heaved a deep sigh and sat up. “Less afraid.” Afraid and powerless to make even the simplest decision.

  I sound like a sulky little girl. She picked up the telephone and dialed.

  The hollow echo of the telephone ringing sounded for the third time. Pick up. Jesse should be in his room by now. It had to be around midnight in Barcelona. She needed him to answer. Though she was close to all three of her older brothers, she was closest to Jesse. He wasn’t just her brother; he was her best friend.

  There was no reason for him to still be out. They had contacted the office this morning. The mission had gone well and the hostages were safe. The team should have been at the hotel long ago.

  Fourth ring. Come on, Jess. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Cate paced anxiously across the living room, stopping to tuck a box of tissues firmly under her arm. She’d need them for the good cry she was planning later.

  Fifth ring. “PICK UP THE PHONE!” Cate yelled desperately, just as she heard the answering click on the other end of the line.

  “Whoa there, no need to . . . Cate, is that you? What’s wrong?” Jesse’s sleepy confusion was evident.

  “Sorry, Jess. I was just being impatient. Nothing’s wrong.” Unless you count finding my fiancé having sex on his desk with his receptionist the week before our wedding as something.

  “Well, baby sister, you dragged me out of bed at . . . what time is it anyway? What’s going on?” That was more like her Jesse. He sounded annoyed.

  Maybe calling Jesse wasn’t the smartest thing for her to do but she had already started. “Richard said, that is, we sort of had a disagreement, and, well, I’ve been thinking about what Richard said, and . . . ” Her voice trailed off as she vividly recalled the “disagreement.”

  She had thought to surprise Richard with a picnic lunch since he’d told her he was too busy to get away from the office and meet her. He was busy all right. And all three of them had certainly been surprised. The blonde on the desk had screamed and Cate had dropped the basket of food, lemonade darkening the pale, thick carpet after the glass container shattered.

  Jesse’s voice brought her back to the present.

  “Answer me, Cate. What did he do? You say the word and I am so on the next plane home. I’ll have my foot up his ass before he can even think of another thing to say.”

  At least Jesse was completely awake now.

  “No, Jess, you know I don’t want that.” Not that her brother couldn’t do it, with his black belts in God only knew how many martial arts.

  She closed her eyes and watched it all happening again.

  She had backed out of the office into the hallway, but couldn’t seem to think to move from the spot outside Richard’s door. This couldn’t be happening to her. The door had opened and Richard had grabbed her arm, pulling her into the office as the blonde receptionist sidled past on her way out. She didn’t even have the courtesy to look embarrassed.

  “Why?” she had asked him, hating the hurt in her voice. “Why would you do this to me?”

  “I wasn’t doing anything to you, Caitlyn. It meant nothing. You know I’m under pressure with the new cases I’ve taken on. How many times have I asked you to have sex with me? If you had, I wouldn’t have been forced to find my relief elsewhere.”

  “You’re blaming . . . that”—she pointed to the desk, unable to find the words to describe what she’d seen—“that . . . behavior on your work?”

  Richard had led her to the large leather sofa in his office, waiting for her to be seated before he perched himself on the arm. Always the perfect gentleman.

  “No. If there’s any fault to be placed here, it’s yours. I’m a man with needs. I’ve made that clear to you.”

  Cate shook her head to banish the memory. On second thought, it might not be a good idea to share the whole scenario with her brother. “Besides, Richard says it’s my fault anyway.”

  “That’s bullshit. Richard’s full of it, and you deserve better than him.” Jesse always ended up here when they talked about Richard.

  “All I need from you is, I need to ask you a question, and I need your promise that you’ll be completely honest with me. Will you do that?” She might as well get on with this.

  “That’s what big brothers are for, Caty Rose. I excel at being honest, given the chance. Fire away.”

  “Richard says I’m not adventurous, that I’m stuck in a rut, doing the same things day after day, until I’m not even living life anymore.”

  “My fault?” she’d asked Richard. “How can your doing . . . that . . . possibly be my fault?”

  Richard had given her that haughty look she’d seen him use on others in the past, the waiter who took too long to bring the wine or the sales clerk who didn’t jump fast enough. “You live life like some kind of spinster. The only thing you show any enthusiasm for is Coryell Enterprises. I constantly have to take a backseat to your daddy’s company and your work there.”

  “What my father and brothers do is important. They risk their lives to save people.”

  “I’m not saying it isn’t important, Caitlyn. I’m saying that you treat me as if it’s more important to you than I am. You have no adventure of your own. You spend ten to twelve hours a day running that office, coordinating everything that goes on there. You deal with some of the most powerful people in the world, but look at you. You’re in a rut. You don’t fix yourself up unless I remind you to. What am I supposed to think? How can I pursue a career in politics without a wife at my side who understands my needs? One who’s willing to sacrifice for my career?”

  “I’m adventurous.” She’d desperately grasped at the only part of his censure she could, her stomach clenching in horror as he criticized her passion for her work, the one thing she truly felt she excelled at.

  His cold laughter stung. “Really? Then prove it. If you have any adventure in you at all, you’ll have sex with me right here, in this office, right now.” He’d stood then, straightening his tie. “But you aren’t up to that, are you? That’s simply too out of the ordinary for Caitlyn Coryell.”

  Her fault. He’d said it was all her fault.

  “Do you think he could be right?” She hated the wimpy, pleading note she heard in her voice.

  There was a long pause on Jesse’s end. “Okay, fine. You know I don’t like Richard. I never have. How many times have I told you he’s not right for you? You want honesty, well here it is. No, honey, you aren’t adventurous anymore. Yo
ur last big adventure ended up with you ass over end flying off a horse.”

  She shuddered at the painful reminder. It had been so exciting to sneak out for a ride on her father’s horse, at least for the first few minutes. What is it they say? It’s all fun and games until somebody almost gets killed. She’d spent weeks recovering from that accident.

  “But more important, Caty, is the change in you since you met Richard. The longer you’ve dated this guy, the more withdrawn you’ve become. You’re so busy trying to be exactly what he wants you to be, you’re like some ‘Richard robot.’ You should listen to yourself talk. You can’t go more than five minutes without a ‘Richard says’ in your conversation.”

  Jesse was on a roll. “You fix your hair the way Richard wants, you attend the society functions Richard wants, you’re forever starving yourself trying to lose weight because Richard wants, you wear the clothes Richard wants. Hell, you aren’t even going to wear Grandma’s wedding dress, and you and I both know you’ve wanted to do that your whole life.”

  “Richard said he only wanted the best for me, that he loved me.” She barely noted that she’d referred to him in the past tense.

  “I am so sorry to be the one to say this to you, but it’s way past time someone did. Richard doesn’t love you. Anyone can see it. If he did, he wouldn’t be trying to change everything about you. You’re great just the way you are. Richard only loves Richard. And the Coryell money. That and all the potential political allies he can meet through Coryell Enterprises. He’s slime, Caty, and you need to drop him like a bad habit.” Jesse stopped to draw in a ragged breath.

  “He’s simply an ambitious lawyer.” She defended him now out of habit, though that wasn’t really much of a defense for the man she was supposed to love more than anything.

  “Lawyer or not, Richard is just plain slime of the earth. And, Caty?” Jesse waited until he knew he had her attention. “I don’t really believe you love him either. I haven’t seen you seriously happy since you agreed to marry this creep. I think you just want to be in love because you think it’s supposed to happen now. But love doesn’t happen on schedule. It sneaks up when you least expect it. You can’t plug it into that little day planner of yours. You can’t make it happen. You need to ask yourself some pretty serious questions about how you honest to God feel before that wedding next week.”

  “Okay, enough. Thanks for your honesty. I know you don’t understand my relationship with Richard. I just . . . ” She paused and took a deep breath. How could he understand? She wasn’t sure she understood why she’d agreed to marry Richard. Or why she was still considering it. “So will you guys be finished up in time to get home by the end of the week?” He would know she was changing the subject, but she couldn’t bear anymore right now.

  “Sure.” His deep sigh was clearly audible on her end. “You know we will, Cate. We won’t let you down. So, I guess that means you’re still going through with this?”

  Still going through with it? That was the question she’d been asking herself for the last couple of hours.

  After listening to Richard tell her how it was all her fault, how he forgave her, how he loved her, and how they needed to put this incident behind them, she had risen from his sofa without comment and crossed the office, dazedly stepping over the broken glass and the spilled basket that had been her carefully packed lunch. Lemonade had squished into her sandals as she’d opened the door.

  “Don’t forget the dinner tonight,” he’d said as he strode toward her. “Remember there will be some very important people there, Caitlyn. Try to be ready when I come to pick you up. I don’t want to keep them waiting. Oh, and why don’t you put your hair up tonight? You look more polished that way.” He’d kissed her on the forehead and ushered her out the door, closing it behind her as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  Was she still going through with it? She’d been too numb to think, too shocked to fully accept what had happened. Even now she avoided the decision, rattling off the first thing that came to mind in response to her brother’s question.

  “I finished my last prewedding detail today. I wandered into this little antiques shop in LoDo and found the perfect ‘something old’ to wear. I can’t wait to show it to you. It’s this beautiful old necklace. It looks like an emerald, although I know it can’t be because I only paid ten dollars for it.” Cate forced some lightness into her voice. “Oh my gosh, it’s almost five thirty. I’ve got to get off the phone and start getting ready for tonight.”

  The senior partner of Richard’s firm was giving a dinner in honor of their upcoming wedding. If she were late, there would be such a scene.

  “All right. But at least promise me you’ll think about what I said, okay? It’s not too late to change your mind. You don’t have to go through with this. I’m not hanging up until you promise.”

  As if I’ll be able to think of anything else.

  “Don’t worry about me, Jesse. And yes, before you get all upset, I promise to think about it. I love you. Give my love to Dad and the guys.”

  “Love you, too, baby sister. You remember to think about what you really want. Just because Mom and Granny were both married at your age doesn’t mean you have to get married right now.” Allowing no time for her to protest, he quickly continued. “We should be on our way home in a couple of days. We’re just tying up loose ends here. But when I get home, we’re going to continue this conversation, whether you want to or not.” He hung up before she could argue the point.

  She put down her tissues, deciding she didn’t have time to spend on tears, and shuffled off to the shower, deep in thought.

  * * *

  Why couldn’t she decide what to do?

  On a daily basis Cate negotiated contracts, met with clients of her father’s company, and compiled sensitive background information for negotiations or hostage rescue. She even handled the business side of Coryell Enterprises whenever government agencies contracted them for civilian covert operations. How could she possibly be so weak willed and indecisive now?

  “Because that’s business and this is personal.”

  Cate stood wrapped in a towel in front of her bedroom mirror, examining her reflection. She’d spent thirty minutes in the shower, trying to decide what was wrong with her. If she hadn’t used all the hot water, she’d probably still be there.

  “I’m not that bad. Maybe not model or movie star material, but not totally ugly. I’m smart. I’m good at my work. I’m not mean and I don’t smell bad.” Cate smiled ruefully at her image. “But I might be crazy, because I’m talking to myself again. Maybe this is what a nervous breakdown feels like.”

  It was then the thought hit, stopping her in her tracks. Do I really, honestly love Richard enough to have a nervous breakdown over him? No.

  Such a simple word. No. And yet for the first time, it allowed her to see her situation quite clearly. No. She didn’t love Richard that much. In fact, right now, she didn’t even like him. Maybe that was why it had always been so easy to tell him she wouldn’t sleep with him before they got married. Jesse was right. Richard was slime. But she couldn’t lay all the blame at his doorstep. She had chosen to ignore all the things that bothered her about him because she should be in love by now. And Richard should have been the perfect one. He was tall, strong, blond, intelligent, and very handsome. He opened doors for her, held her hand, took her to the places she wanted to go. He had been attentive and affectionate. More important, he instantly took command of every situation and people flocked around him. He had power over any circumstances, always smooth and in control. Not only was he everything she should want in a man, he was everything she wanted to be herself. And he had loved her.

  No. He had used her. He had never loved her. He loved being with her and meeting all the important people she took for granted because, thanks to her father’s company, they had always been part of her life. All the powerful, famous people who could make things happen for an ambitious lawyer with political aspira
tions. And everyone around her had seen it all along; watched as she let him make a fool out of her—no, as she’d made a fool out of herself.

  Cate sat down on the end of the bed, her legs literally giving out under her. Richard might have used her, but she had used him, too. She had wanted to be in love, and when Richard came along she convinced herself that she was. She hadn’t loved him any more than he had loved her. What had she been thinking for the past year?

  “You know, for an almost genius, Cate Coryell, you’re pretty stupid.” Just because you could make it through school a few years ahead of everyone else certainly didn’t mean you had learned anything about life.

  She wouldn’t need to straighten her hair or put on makeup or get dressed. She wasn’t going out to dinner with Richard tonight.

  And she wasn’t going to marry him.

  She stood up and headed for the kitchen. There was a bottle of some kind of alcohol she had never opened in the cupboard over the refrigerator. Her brother Cody had given it to her on her twenty-first birthday, warning her to be careful with it, but, since she didn’t drink, it had languished with the cobwebs for the past three years. Now she deserved a celebration. She was declaring her freedom.

  “ ‘An dram buidheach,’ ” she quoted out loud, reading the back of the bottle. “ ‘The drink that satisfies.’ Exactly what I need. A little satisfaction. ‘Product of Scotland.’ ”

  She had wanted to visit Scotland since her college Medieval History classes. Such a tragic, turbulent past, and yet so romantic. She had loved those classes, soaking up the history of the times, immersing herself in the lore.

  Cate shook her head in disgust, remembering that she had even recommended Scotland for their honeymoon, but Richard was set on Belize, where the senior partner in his law firm liked to vacation.

  Well, that isn’t a problem anymore.

  After struggling to open the dusty bottle, she poured some of the amber liquid into one of her pretty wineglasses and headed back to the bedroom, taking the bottle with her.

 

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