by Willa Blair
He hoped what happened on the stairs meant she was beginning to heal. But it also meant he’d have to ignore his body’s urges and let her take the lead, for her sake, and so he could keep this job.
She entered the room so silently he would not have known she was there except he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. After thinking so hard about the ghost, he jumped, expecting to see some apparition gliding into the room. He covered it by shifting toward her, patting the couch next to him in invitation and smiling.
“I’ll just get the whisky while I’m up and top off your glass,” she told him with an answering smile.
He stood and watched her move to the whisky table and pick up a bottle, graceful and beautiful, a dream come to life. His dream, and the key to everything he’d ever desired. His grip tightened around his glass as he joined her. He’d thought his dream impossible for so many years, he couldn’t believe it might now be attainable. So close, but still just out of reach. He had to take this slowly.
To get his mind off of wanting her, he asked, “How are the twins?”
“Sleeping, I hope.” She glanced his way for confirmation the bottle she held was what he was drinking, and after he nodded, she continued, “Chastened by getting a lecture about their weekend adventure. Thank you for setting them straight. I hope they’ll listen this time.”
“Whether they do or not, they’re good bairns, Lara. You should be proud.”
She nodded and poured for him, then poured a short dram for herself before clinking her glass with his. “Cheers.” She hoisted her glass.
“Sláinte,” he replied. As he sipped, he contemplated taking her in his arms. But the feeling he got from her was social, not sensual. He led her back to the couch and sat opposite from where she settled, giving her some room. Lara propped an elbow on the back of the sofa and rested her cheek on her fist, gazing at him.
Ian couldn’t shake the need to pull her into his arms. To distract himself, he looked away and studied the fire, turning his whisky glass in his hands.
“So tell me about yourself,” Lara prompted, drawing his gaze back to hers. “How did you get into restoring old estates?”
Her hair glinted gold in the firelight. Her light blue eyes took on a greenish cast, a mix of sea and sky. The whisky glossed her lips, making them look plump and kissable. It took more effort than Ian imagined possible to form words and answer her. “I studied history and architecture at university. In summers, I worked for a friend’s father. He has a construction company, and there are always plenty of odd jobs for a starving student to do. I learned from him, then struck out on my own.” He shrugged. “You’ll have noticed we’ve no lack of old buildings needing repair and restoration.”
“I’ve noticed,” she replied with a twist of her lips. “And I appreciate what you’ve done to Cairn Dubh so far. But won’t the old wing be more of a challenge?”
“Not really.” He picked up his glass and took a sip, happy the conversation had naturally turned away from him, and so easily, too. Yet, he was still full of the foreboding that plagued him each time he imagined what was to come. When Lara found out about him, and eventually she would have to even if it meant telling her himself, his dream would die. She’d never understand. She’d only see what he’d hoped to gain and think he’d used her, even though that was never his intent. “There is little paneling or plastering to remove from the walls—inside or out. Rollo hasn’t found any plumbing or wiring to trace and replace. The structural elements are relatively accessible. Once I’m satisfied all of it is solid, and once we fit new windows into the bricked-up openings, we can build from the outside walls in. What do you think you’ll do with all the space? Open a B&B?”
She shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I realize what I decide will affect what you do in there. I can’t see myself as an innkeeper. The twins have to come first, and over the next few years, they’ll be more involved with after-school activities and sports. And moving back to California is always an option. I don’t think I want to be tied down taking care of guests.”
Ian nearly choked on a sip of whisky. Moving back to California? She’d never mentioned that possibility before. He tensed, not liking the idea one whit. “You could hire someone to run it for you.” Better to keep her focused on what her life could be here.
“I suppose. But once the restoration is done, selling and moving back to the States is something I’ll have to consider.” Her gaze settled on the hearth, a frown line between her brows.
Damn, he didn’t like hearing her talk about leaving. And he hadn’t brought up her plans to add to her problems, but to steer the conversation away from him. “You don’t need to decide tonight.”
“I know. I’ll think about it.” She took another sip of her whisky and cocked her head. “So what do you do when you’re not running a restoration?”
Ian kept his expression neutral and racked his brain to find another topic to divert her. “All the normal things. Laundry, grocery shopping.”
“Do you go out with friends?”
“Of course.
Scamp suddenly dashed past the open library door, his tread thumping as loudly as a running cat’s could, racing down the hall toward the kitchen.
“He can be fast when he wants to be,” Lara said and chuckled, her gaze toward the now-empty hallway. “But it always amazes me how much noise one cat can make.”
Ian nodded, but he wondered. Was it only the cat?
****
Lara tucked her legs up onto the couch and sipped her whisky. Talking with Ian, sharing a drink in front of the fire, made her feel more cozy and comfortable than she’d been in months. There was a lot to like about Ian Paterson. And a lot of reasons to keep her distance. The renovation. The option of returning to California. The anniversary…even the twins, despite how well they got along with him. Off limits.
She frowned at the fire.
“What’s amiss?” he asked, running his fingers up her arm to cup the fist where she’d propped her head.
A line of fire trailed under his fingers, and she fought to keep from nuzzling her face against his hand. “Nothing, really.”
“Then why the frown?”
She tore her gaze from the hearth and met his. Nothing in his expression gave her any indication of anything other than care and concern. It lacked the heat his touch had shot through her, making her hope she might see desire reflected in his eyes.
“It’s just that this is going to be a difficult week,” she answered, taking her cue from him. “It’s been a rough year…I’m not sure how to handle the anniversary. The twins…”
He squeezed her hand, then let go and moved his to the back of the couch. “I think you’ll be surprised at how resilient they are. Even Amy. With school and the restoration work in the old wing to distract them, the anniversary will be here and gone before they know it.” He paused, then added, “I’m more concerned about you.”
She lifted her head. “That’s sweet of you, but you needn’t worry. I’ll be fine. I think I’m dreading this more for the twins’ sake than mine.”
“I hope that’s all it is. And I know how to keep you busy. Once we get lights installed upstairs, you’ll want to examine and catalog everything in those rooms.” He crossed his arms. “I have a friend who’s an antiquities appraiser. I’ve known her for years and respect her expertise. I can guarantee she’ll be discreet. And she can help you decide what to keep and what to sell or donate, either to a museum or to a charity. Let her do the preliminary, and then when you’re ready for the word to get out, you can hire someone else to go through everything and give you another opinion.”
“That sounds like just what I need. Thank you.”
Ian nodded and tossed off the last swallow of his whisky. “I’d best be going,” he said, set the glass aside, and stood.
Disappointed, Lara stood, too. Did she want him to stay? Enough to try seducing him? Lord, she was years out of practice. The idea of throwing herself at Ian terrifie
d her. Allowing him to turn her body into his arms on the stairs was one thing. Making the first move here and now was quite another. Off limits. It made her angry. She should be able to enjoy him, if she wanted to. If he wanted to, as well. “If you think you should…” she finally replied, hoping he’d change his mind.
“I’ll call Caitlin first thing in the morning and make arrangements for her to come out.”
Lara nodded and walked with him to the front door. “I’m looking forward to meeting her. I’m sure going through the contents of those hidden rooms with an expert will be fascinating.”
Ian nodded. “Sleep well. I’ll pick you up in plenty of time to get to the elopement.”
Good grief, she’d almost forgotten. And she had yet to figure out what to wear. Well, whatever she had would have to do. She had no time to shop for a new dress. “I’ll be ready,” she promised.
Ian nodded and looked, for one blazing moment, like he would reach for her. He tensed and his gaze dropped to her mouth. But he didn’t follow through. He pursed his lips and nodded again. “I know you will.”
With that, he slipped out, closing the door behind him. Lara leaned her back against it, seeing nothing but Ian. What had run through his mind, there at the end? Did he want to kiss her? If so, his control was remarkable, and as frustrating to her as it must be to him. He hadn’t said much, but the fact that he’d tensed when she mentioned selling Cairn Dubh and returning to California gave her hope. Once the restoration was done, he shouldn’t care who owned the place. Could it be he didn’t want her to go? Given the connection that seemed to be developing between them, she hoped so. The longer she knew him, the more she wanted to get close to him, even intimately, but she knew better than to rush into anything physical.
However, she was getting better at reading his moods. And he’d seemed uncomfortable again when the conversation turned to hiring an appraiser. Was this Caitlin really just a friend? Or something more? Well, she didn’t have to use the woman. Surely there were others she could find if she didn’t suit, or seemed dishonest. Or worse, was sleeping with Ian.
Chapter Seven
Ian appreciated Lara’s promptness. None of this feminine messing about for fifteen or thirty minutes while he stared at a wall or paced. When he arrived, she was ready and waiting for him, which given how eager he was to see her again, suited him fine.
“Good morning,” he said as she stepped out of her door. She wore a blue dress that fit her curves nicely, front and back, which he got to see when she turned to lock the door. Definitely coming out of mourning, he decided happily. And taking her to a wedding should help move that process along, if it didn’t make her maudlin, recalling her own wedding to Angus. He’d do what he could to prevent that, including delivering lame compliments that didn’t begin to express how she captivated him. He took her hand as she turned back to him. “You look lovely.”
Lara grinned, looking him up and down. “You do, too,” she answered, then waved her free hand between them. “Look handsome, I mean. Not lovely.”
He laughed and walked her to the car, wondering if she thought “lovely” fit because he was wearing a kilt. Not a skirt, which he was sure she knew. Tongue in cheek humor from her, perhaps? “Well, it’s not every day you get to see a friend elope in defiance of both sets of families. I thought such an occasion worth the formality of the full kit.” Especially since yesterday’s dusting of snow was gone and the day promised to be warm enough to wear it. He handed her into the car, then went around and climbed in, careful to make sure the kilt covered everything to his knees.
As he drove to town, he noticed her gaze fall on his lap several times. Checking him out? He liked that. If Lara fancied men in kilts, he’d have to find some excuses to wear his more often.
Blane and Cassie were standing outside the registrar’s office when they arrived.
Blane shook his hand and smiled. “Thank ye, Baron.” His expression changed quickly, his eyes widening in dismay.
Ian kept his flash of annoyance away from Lara. He was certain she hadn’t missed the title. He didn’t want to see the question in her eyes. He knew the time to answer for his silence would come sooner than he was ready for.
He also spared Blane. It was his wedding day after all. Instead, he took both of Cassie’s hands in his and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “I don’t know if it’s fair to kiss the bride before the ceremony, but I don’t care,” he told her with a smile as he let her go. “You’re too beautiful to resist.”
Cassie tittered and glanced at her husband-to-be, then lowered her gaze.
For a second, Ian feared she was about to curtsey. “I’d like to introduce you to Lara MacLaren,” he continued. He turned to her and offered his hand to pull her forward.
“It’s lovely to meet you both,” Lara said as she slipped her hand into his.
Her gaze was on the happy couple, but she traced her fingertips across his palm, shooting fire along his veins. It took all of Ian’s willpower not to react.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Lara added smoothly.
Ian nearly growled. The minx knew what her touch had done to him.
“We’re pleased you could join us,” Cassie offered, then quickly added with an embarrassed twitch of her shoulder. “Or we’d be short a witness.”
Lara laughed. “I understand. Ian told me. You’re very brave to do this. Families can be so…”
“Difficult?” Blane supplied.
Ian arced a brow at him. Blane had chosen to do this. Was he having second thoughts?
“So, do you have everything?” Lara asked Cassie. “Something old, something new…”
“There was no time,” Cassie replied, paling just a bit. She lifted her hand to her earlobe. “The pearls are old, the dress is new, but the borrowed and the blue…”
“I have the perfect thing,” Lara told her, pulled her hand from Ian’s and unwrapped her blue patterned scarf from around her throat. “It’ll be borrowed, and it’s blue,” she added and pressed the scarf into Cassie’s hand.
Ian appreciated the kindness of the gesture, but mostly, if he couldn’t hold her hand, he was happy to see the milky skin of Lara’s elegantly long throat bared.
“Oh!” Cassie teared up, her eyes glinting. “Thank you so much!”
“It’s nothing,” Lara told her, squeezing her hand. Then taking the scarf, she draped it around Cassie’s neck, twisting it and tying a knot that left it looking like it belonged with the dress from the beginning.
The architect in Ian was impressed.
“Shall we go in?” Blane glanced at his watch.
Ian nodded and gestured for them to precede him. He’d enjoy following Lara into the hall and the view it would afford him.
Ian tuned out while the registrar went through his welcome speech and started the short ceremony. Standing beside Lara, he could only watch her out of the corner of his eye. The registrar droned on, his pauses punctuated by Cassie’s or Blane’s responses. Lara watched them calmly until the registrar called for the exchange of rings.
First Cassie slipped a white gold band onto Blane’s hand, then Blane did the same for his bride. Their eyes shone.
They looked so hopeful, and so happy, Ian’s throat started to tighten. Then he noticed Lara twisting the wedding ring on her left hand. Suddenly, she pulled it off and dropped it into her handbag. Ian’s breath froze in his chest. If he hadn’t been watching her, he never would have noticed.
She glanced up and gave him a hesitant smile. Did she know he’d seen what she’d done? Why had she chosen this time and place to take off her ring? Though it wasn’t really any of his business, the need to know burned in his belly.
He hoped she’d done it to show him she was ready to move on. Her touch on his palm hadn’t been an accident. But this was certainly not the place or the time to find out. As if to emphasize that point, the registrar cleared his throat, distracting Ian.
“Ye are now married,” the registrar announced to Blane and Cas
sie, “and are husband and wife for as long as ye live.” He broke his official seriousness long enough to grin at Blane. “Ye may kiss the bride.”
Ian forced his attention to stay on his friends as they kissed. Blane shook the registrar’s hand as Cassie turned and hugged Ian, then Lara. Then it was Blane’s turn. A spurt of jealousy surprised Ian as Blane kissed Lara on the cheek.
“Thank you, again, for standing with us,” Blane told her. “I ken we’re strangers…”
“Not anymore,” Cassie interrupted. “Not after this. Here,” she added, untying the knotted scarf, “I should give this back to you.”
Lara wiped away a tear. “Of course, you’re right. Since it’s borrowed, I’ll take it.” She took the scarf from Cassie’s hands, then smiled. “I’m so happy for you,” she added and looped it back around Cassie’s neck. “Now you’re married, it no longer needs to be ‘borrowed,’ so keep it. It’s only a token, but it’s my gift to you, to remember this day.”
Cassie gasped.
“If you newlyweds will sign the Marriage Schedule, we’ll be finished,” the registrar broke in.
“Of course,” Blane answered.
Ian was happy he pulled Cassie away before she could tear up again. He touched Lara’s shoulder. “That was a lovely thing you did. Are you all right? I didn’t mean for this to upset you, or I would have tried to find someone else to bring.”
Her lips twitched—not quite into a smile. “I’m fine. Weddings always make me cry. It’s a family trait.”
If he’d believed her, Ian would have been relieved. But she’d taken off her wedding ring. The ceremony had meant something to her, something profound. He took her hands and ran his thumb over her finger where the ring used to be. He didn’t say a word, just kept his gaze on her face, on her eyes.