Some Like It Scot

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Some Like It Scot Page 11

by Donna Kauffman


  “Aye,” he said, determined to shut the hell up.

  “I have no other prospects,” she finally said. “A trip to Italy might be as good as any to gather my thoughts and plan my next step, but I’d have no means beyond hotels that are already bought and paid for, and excursions already planned with no further balance due.” She lifted her shoulders, and for the first time, he saw the true trepidation that lay just beneath the surface of her apparent calm acceptance of her current situation. She truly was bereft of all she’d known, all she’d ever had.

  “You’re not only offering me an all expenses paid get-out-of-my-life free card, but I’m assuming there is some financial compensation coming my way if I agree to…lend you my name.”

  His heart grew cold and tight at her detached and clinical calm. Though he certainly couldn’t fault her for behaving in such a way. Yet it hurt, all the same. He was not that man. That was not how he conducted business, much less his own personal life.

  “Katie…”

  She lifted a hand. “I’m not saying I agree. Yet. I’m saying I’ll go with you. To Kinloch. I’ll consider your offer, as I also take the time to consider all my options, whatever else they might be. I just want you to understand where I am, and why I’m considering it. It’s purely business, Graham. And it needs to remain business.”

  He nodded. “Understood.”

  Yet their gazes held for several moments longer than strictly business dictated.

  Then the driver was tapping on the window, startling them both into action.

  “I’ll come around,” Graham said.

  “I’m fine,” she responded, and they both climbed out of their respective sides. The driver assisted Katie as Graham went to the back and started unloading her luggage.

  She met him there. “I’m sorry for all this. If I could remember which thing was in which bag, I could consolidate, but—”

  “Maybe it’s best to take everything you have with you.”

  She glanced up at him, and read his meaning. “You make a good point. I’m glad we didn’t end up booking my chosen honeymoon destination.”

  “Which was?”

  “Bora Bora. Also known as the furthest known spot from McAuley-Sheffield as I could get without going somewhere really cold.”

  “I don’t know that I’d have minded that wardrobe so much, but perhaps you have a point.” He smiled and was gratified when she did the same in response. “Here, let me help.”

  She reached for another bag, but he motioned her away. “I’ve got it. Which one has your travel documents? Passport?”

  “They’re in that one,” she said, pointing to the stitched leather, wheeled carry on, which matched all the other hand-stitched leather bags lining the curb. Two deep.

  An airline attendant approached and Katie smiled. “Thank goodness for curbside check-in, huh?”

  Graham smiled and turned to greet the young man. “I’ll need to book additional passage,” he said. “Miss McAuley will be accompanying me.” He withdrew his passport from his sporran and wasted a brief moment wishing he had his own knapsack and a change of clothes, but he’d suffer far worse to see the whole thing move forward. “I’ll need to change my ticket as well. Here’s the information.”

  Within minutes they were ushered inside and had everything taken care of. The booking agent had managed to maneuver them into seats next to each other. The first leg would take them overnight to Heathrow. From there to Glasgow, then a train ride up to Oban and the first ferry. He turned to Katie as she tucked her own documents in her bag. “We should be on Kinloch by late tomorrow night,” he told her.

  He spied the weariness creeping in around the edges of her eyes and mouth as she smiled. “Not as far, technically, as Bora Bora, but perhaps equally distant from known civilization. At least the civilization known as my family.”

  “’Tis a wee bit of an adventure, aye, but worthwhile in the end.”

  They spent the next hour going through the rigors of security and making their way to their gate.

  “We have some time before boarding. We should eat.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not hungry but please go ahead.” She gestured to the row of empty seats lining the plate-glass window that served as one wall of the waiting area. “I’ll be over there when you get back.”

  He thought about skipping the food and staying with her, but his stomach was growling. Loudly. He also suspected she could use a few minutes of solitude to gather her thoughts without him hovering about. “I’ll return shortly. Can I bring you anything?”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine, really.”

  He headed off toward the food vendors, thinking he should use the time apart to call Roan and update him on what was going on. And likewise get an update on what was going on back home. He was certain they were anxiously waiting to hear a progress report. But he was oddly reluctant to share the news with them as yet. They’d be thrilled. Then the real circus would begin, and…it seemed as if there’d been enough circus for one day. Katie needed some respite. And so, for that matter, did he. There hadn’t been time for jet lag to creep in and he was already winging his way back home. Preferable, to be certain, but perhaps he needed some time to collect his thoughts about the whirlwind his life had become every bit as much as Katie did.

  He found a small coffee vendor, and decided to get her a cup and a muffin. She’d need something other than airplane food to see her through the long flight. He stopped and picked up some trail mix, a couple bottles of water, and tossed in a bar of chocolate as well, before heading back to the gate. He scanned their seating area as he crossed the passageway to their section, then slowed as he spied her. She had her small roll-on propped next to her, and was leaning against the pillar next to her seat. Sound asleep, from the looks of it.

  Seeing the weariness and fatigue lining her lovely face, even in sleep, had him acknowledging his own exhaustion. Mentally, physically. He wouldn’t mind checking out for a few hours, either. Instead, he carefully set her coffee and muffin on the table next to her, then took the seat next to hers, leaned back while sipping his cappuccino…and watched over her.

  By the time he’d drained the cup, he felt at least a semblance of humanity seep back into his system. They had several hours before boarding. He didn’t want to disturb her, but didn’t feel right sitting there, leaving her slumped uncomfortably against the hard pillar. He shifted a little and eased her slumbering form toward him.

  She rustled a little, and murmured something drowsily.

  “We don’t have to board yet,” he said quietly. “Just rest awhile. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

  She nodded a little, murmured something that sounded like “that’s good,” then snuggled against his shoulder and dropped back to sleep.

  He slid his arm around her and was surprised to discover that, perhaps, he was the more comforted one. It felt quite normal, having her nestled there, as if she’d done so many times before. Flickers of images danced around the periphery of his consciousness, much as they had in the limo, but as he’d done then, he purposely shut them out, focusing instead on brushing the hair from her cheek with his fingertips, and allowing himself the luxury of simply drinking his fill of her.

  Hell of a day, he thought, but it was ending quite nicely.

  He dozed briefly, but spent most of the next few hours watching her sleep…and imagining what it would be like, life on Kinloch with her in the mix. In his life. The boarding announcement was finally made, mercifully ending his prolonged game of What If. He gently nudged Katie awake. “They’re calling for us to board,” he said quietly.

  She nodded, yawned, then carefully extracted herself from his arms and sat up. If she’d been surprised to learn she’d been sleeping half sprawled against him, she didn’t show it. But it took her a moment or two to blink fully awake. He wondered if she was like that in the morning, in bed—then shut that image out of his mind.

  He stifled a sudden urge to yawn, and wished he’d
spent more of the past few hours sleeping. She hadn’t needed watching over, she wasn’t a child. It was interesting to him, that protective streak he had with her. He’d never particularly felt that way about any one individual before, though he certainly had felt it collectively where his clan was concerned. Maybe it was just an extension of that.

  Except it certainly felt more…personal. Like he was very specifically charged with seeing to her happiness and well-being. Which, if she had even an inkling of that, she’d be the first one to tell him where he could stuff those Neanderthal tendencies.

  He’d told himself, while sitting there with her in his arms, it was strictly the notion that she was the one making the sacrifice for him, so naturally he felt responsible for her in return.

  Aye. He didn’t believe that. And yet, what else could it be?

  They boarded the plane, stowed Katie’s carry-on, and settled in their seats. Graham pulled down pillows and blankets for them both. And though he’d thought the intimacy of the plane, flying through the night, would give them a chance to talk further about what lay ahead and how best to handle it, both of them were fast asleep before the first bag of pretzels was served.

  It was light outside when he opened his eyes again. He thought the captain had just announced their descent into Heathrow, but he might have dreamed it.

  What was not a dream was the fact that Katie’s face was pressed against his shoulder…and their hands were joined, fingers twined. He was already smiling before he could figure out what his reaction to that should be. She’d made it perfectly clear they were to progress forward as an all-business agreement, putting aside whatever it was that had been going on in the limo. And now…well, they’d both been asleep. It was simply comfort seeking comfort.

  Yet he did nothing to disengage his hand from hers.

  How was it that less than twenty-four hours ago, he hadn’t known her, and the idea of holding her hand while she slept made him happy? Happy. Apparently he did still recognize the emotion.

  She was right, smart even, to insist on a business-only arrangement. Not simply because of the crossroads she’d come to in her own life, but because there was simply no other way to approach it, given what they had to do in order to make it legal. They were, for all intents and purposes, still complete strangers.

  Sitting there, still not sliding his hand from hers, he was quite content to know she’d sought the comfort of him while she slept.

  She didn’t feel like a stranger to him. Holding her hand, listening to her steady breathing, feeling the warmth of her, nestled against him, he relived in his mind, their time in the garden figuring out what she should do next, telling her why he was there. He thought of standing up inside the church—her church—and claiming her as his own, rescuing her from the ensuing mob that consisted mostly of her very own family members, carrying her to a waiting limo—in a wedding dress—a dress meant for another man. He pondered lowering her to her back inside that limo, intent on claiming her in another way entirely, feeling things that made absolutely no rational sense, but that had never felt more right inside that exact moment.

  It was far more madness than any semblance of reality or normalcy. It begged for a business-only arrangement between them, for both their sakes. Anything else would be tempting all sorts of trouble, from a wide variety of sources.

  Yet, sitting there, thinking quite clearly back through every second of time they’d shared, he thought what she felt like to him was…right. Just…right.

  It was as if there was, deep inside him, a sense of…relief. That was the word, the feeling, that resonated inside of him. He couldn’t explain it, not in any rational sense. Nor could he discredit it. He felt it. Purely, simply.

  The pilot announced again their impending descent. Katie rustled a little beside him. He rubbed his thumb along the side of her fingers where their hands were joined, in an instinctive move to soothe her, as if he’d done it oftentimes before.

  She woke more fully then, and sat up straight as she blinked herself into awareness, slipping her hand from his as she reached up to rake her hair from her face. He wasn’t sure if she realized they’d been holding hands, which was okay with him. He knew.

  “Are we—?”

  “Almost there? Aye. We’ll be landin’ in a few minutes.”

  She looked up and saw the seat-belt sign wasn’t on yet. “I need to…”

  He shifted out of his seat, grunting a bit under his breath as his body protested stretching after sitting so long in one position.

  Katie skimmed by him and headed to the back of the plane without saying anything else.

  “No’ a morning person,” he murmured, smiling briefly as he watched her retreating form, thinking back to how groggy she’d been waking up in the airport.

  He rummaged in the overhead bin, then moved a bit as she returned, looking a bit fresher of face and light of eye. “Good morning, sunshine,” he said, smiling.

  “Amusing,” she said, dryly.

  He settled next to her again and offered her a piece of chocolate. “You are to me. Want a bite?”

  She eyed him warily, then the proffered candy bar. “Chocolate?”

  “We’ll stop and get a full meal once we’ve gotten the next leg settled, but in the meantime, with no coffee, I thought this the next best substitute. Actually,” he said, snapping a bite off the end, “I’d choose this every time if I could.”

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she said, somewhat grumpily, but snatched the chocolate from his hand when he started to move it away.

  “Ye’re welcome,” he said, as dryly as she had, when she closed her eyes in momentary bliss as the chocolate melted in her mouth.

  “Mmm-hmm,” was her only response. She cracked one eye open as she finally swallowed. “Don’t tell me, you’re one of those unbearable morning people. You probably don’t even drink coffee.”

  “Cappucino, but aye, I’d rather have tea.”

  “Tea.” She made the word sound like something one might scrape from the bottom of her booted heel.

  “I am from the U.K., after all.”

  She nodded and slumped back in her seat. “Aye,” she said, her imitation of his brogue getting better with each go. “That ye are.” She rolled her head so she could make eye contact with him. “So, what is the next leg of our adventure, oh kilted one?”

  He’d never heard her sound so cavalierly insouciant. Not that he’d had extensive exposure to her. She had been swearing quite the blue streak before their paths had literally crossed in the churchyard the day before. But, in both instances, rather than being off-putting, he’d found her lack of pretension rather charming. “You really do need coffee, don’t you?”

  However, as he wanted to keep his manhood intact, he refrained from sharing that with her. He knew that much.

  “Like a sailor needs a strong breeze,” she responded, with the kind of conviction only a true addict could convey.

  “Well, I canno’ claim that we make the best of the regular brew here, but if you don’t mind something a bit stronger, we are quite adept at making cappuccino.”

  “How strong?”

  “How does black as pitch sound?”

  “Heavenly.”

  “Then we shall have some as soon as we step foot on solid ground.”

  “Bless you.”

  He smiled at her. “You’re welcome,” he said, quite sincerely. He enjoyed making her happy, though he couldn’t have said why exactly. Certainly there was the pending agreement to be signed, but he was already quite well aware he’d have felt that way about her regardless.

  “What is the next leg, anyway? I can’t believe I slept all the way from—well, from the limo onward, for all intents and purposes.”

  “It was a pretty big day yesterday. Emancipating oneself from a previous life can take it out of a person.”

  “That it can,” she said, the words trailing off as her expression turned largely internal.

  He wondered at her thoughts,
and wanted to ask if she was experiencing any morning-after regrets. But he wasn’t fully prepared to hear her answer. As she’d already proven, he doubted she’d dodge the direct question.

  “But I did it, didn’t I? I mean, here you are, and here I am. No longer in Annapolis. Not married to Blaine. I didn’t dream it all, right?”

  He shook his head, holding her gaze. “No, no you didn’t.”

  She smiled then, and it was as if the sun itself had come out to bathe him in its radiant warmth. “Good.”

  “Aye,” he said, and smiled back.

  Chapter 7

  Katie followed in the natural wake Graham made through the throngs at the airport in Glasgow. She felt like she’d been on the lam for days now. But at least the fatigue of it kept her from thinking too much. Or, thinking more than she had to, which was still more thinking than she wanted to do.

  Up until the day before, she’d understood her life plan—as it had been presented to her. Admittedly, one she’d signed off on, versus dealing with the alternative. Until then, she’d been a rational, educated, engaged-to-be-married, hardworking business-woman, dedicated to the greater good of family and company. Given they were synonymous in her world made achieving that goal much simpler.

  In a matter of just under twenty-four hours, she’d become a jobless, homeless, disinherited, single renegade, on the run with a man she’d just met, who was wearing a kilt, and who she’d promised to form a legal bond of matrimony with, in a foreign country.

  Totally sane.

  She lugged her heavy roll-on behind her, wishing she hadn’t been so adamant about dragging it herself. Graham was so tall it had bounced behind him like a child’s pull toy. Besides, he’d done an amazing job getting her mountain of luggage moved from one arrival destination to the following departure destination, like a pro who traveled often, which he’d assured her, he was not. And she was, after all, an independent woman. Hear her roar.

 

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