Some Like It Scot

by Donna Kauffman

  Was he reading her mind? Her breath caught. No. It was wild enough that she had them. It wasn’t possible that he—“Do you have them, too? These…reminiscences?”

  His eyes flashed even darker. “You have them, then? The visions? Like suddenly you’re watching a movie, only it’s no’ a film. You’re seeing a different place and time, but the two people you’re watching are—”

  “Us,” she choked out. Her body was a wild combination at the moment, both tensing in fear at the inexplicable thing they were experiencing together…and feeling hot, bothered, and more than a little twitchy-needy at the thought of actually doing anything she’d pictured in those…reminiscences. With him. She nodded her head. “Yes.”

  “Doing…”

  She nodded a few more times, incapable of filling in the blank any more directly.

  The intensity in his gaze increased. Something she hadn’t thought possible. His body was heavy, warm, and broad as it loomed over hers, pulling her slowly down behind the stack of leather suitcases, out of the driver’s view. And, heaven help her, she didn’t even care. She wanted him heavy, broad, and naked, on her. Dear Lord it was hot in that taxi.

  “What do you think it means?” he asked.

  “We’re both under…a lot of stress,” she managed, though the words were almost a raw whisper. Her throat was tight, as were the tiniest of muscles between her thighs. Gone was any sense of the weariness and fatigue she’d felt had been plaguing her. She was feeling quite energized at the moment, thank you very much.

  “So, we’re just…imagining things?” He kept most of his weight up on his elbows, but he didn’t shift off her. “The exact same things?”

  “We don’t know they’re exactly the same things,” she whispered. He felt so incredibly good, even partly on top of her. She couldn’t think straight. The scent of him sent an arrow of lust straight through her.

  “In your visions,” he persisted, making her focus when all she wanted to do was sink fully into the oblivion he was offering.

  “Are you seeing a heavily carved headboard, broad like—”

  She impulsively reached up and pressed her fingers to his lips before he could say another word. The result of touching him was like being in the middle of a sun flare.

  He shifted his weight to one side, and covered her hand with his own, but instead of pulling her fingers away, he pressed them more firmly against his lips. He was not only heavy and warm and perfect on top of her…he was also aroused. Fully, from the feel of…things.

  She couldn’t help but think how easy it would be, with him wearing that kilt to just—

  “Train station, coming up!”

  Graham jerked upright so fast he rapped his head on the roof of the taxi.

  Katie quickly righted and settled herself as well…and purposely did not make any effort to look up front at the driver and risk meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror.

  She glanced over at Graham, at the same instant he glanced at her. Instead of flushing furiously, which would have been her expected reaction…she smiled. He surprised her by smiling back. Then she snickered, not intentionally. She couldn’t seem to stifle it. He had that twinkle in his eye and she was feeling quite twinkly herself. A second later, he followed suit, until, like two partners in crime, they both burst out laughing, and continued to laugh until they were holding their sides, wincing.

  “You know,” he said, when they finally got themselves under control, “I’m beginnin’ to think I canno’ be inside a conveyance of any type with you, without things getting out of control.”

  She barely stifled another snicker. “I know! I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “I probably should be reassuring you I am relieved there has always been a driver present, playing chaperone between us.”

  “Probably, you should be doing that, yes,” she said, barely keeping a straight face.

  He looked at her, then turned to stare straight ahead again. But she saw the slow smile curving his lips. “Aye. Probably should.”

  And then did no such thing.

  She turned and looked past her mountain of luggage, out her window. She was smiling, too.

  “Departures,” their driver said, as he pulled to the curb in front of the busy Queen Street station building.

  “I’ll come around,” Graham said, and climbed out his side of the car.

  Katie would have protested the need for it, as she would have felt silly sitting there waiting for him to come open her door, but with the luggage between her and her exit, it was wait or climb out his door after him and go around. The driver was already out and had closed Graham’s door behind him as there was traffic going past on that side. So she sat where she was, and used the scant minute of time to regroup, to decide what in the hell she was going to do, after that little revelatory moment between them. What in the hell did all that mean?

  Sure, the guy was getting to her, and she was having ridiculous, insatiably hot daydream fantasies about him—who wouldn’t?—but the idea there was something else going on, something she couldn’t put a name to? Mystical? Spiritual? Neither of those suited. What she’d seen, or felt, or imagined had been pulsing, primal, and far too visceral to be either of those things.

  She thought about the moment after they’d revealed their shared visions, the intimacy in sharing a private laugh. It had felt good. Better than good. Better, almost, than the damn visions that had started the whole conversation.

  Almost as good as he’d felt pressed down on top of her. The weight of him had felt so…well, primal was again the word that came to mind.

  Other than with Blaine, she’d never really laughed with anyone, in that shared, only-we-get-it kind of way. It turned out that sharing that kind of moment with a man while simultaneously wanting him deep inside your personal space—deep in a lot of spaces, actually—was significantly more intriguing.

  She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. Or with him—given the situation. She had no basis of comparison. No set plans or historical compilation of data on how to deal with that particular combination of events.

  She was interested. So was he. Quite, from the feel of things. From what she’d felt, he seemed proportionate to his broad size, pretty much everywhere, and that was certainly skewing her reaction as well. Her life as she knew it might be DOA at the moment…but she most certainly wasn’t dead along with it. Far from it if the tingly little sparks of awareness that skated quite pleasurably over her skin just thinking about him was any indication.

  So, what do you do, Katherine Elizabeth Georgina Rosemary McAuley? What do you do?

  The side door opened and between Graham and the driver, her mountain of luggage quickly became a molehill. Then it was time to take his offered hand and climb out behind them. And into the next stage in her new life. She was well aware the train ride was only part of it.

  At least on a train, they’d have to remain civil and hands off. She doubted she’d have the luxury of simply sleeping through it, as she’d managed to do throughout the previous legs of their journey. They needed to discuss things, anyway.

  But all she could think when she reached up and grabbed that warm, broad, work-roughened hand…was how it would feel caressing her skin. And cupping her—

  “Katie?”

  She realized she was staring at his hand in hers, scooted to the edge of the seat, and stepped out next to him. Quickly she disengaged her hand, then had to clear her throat when the words didn’t move past the dry knot there. “So, where to next?”

  “We take the train to Oban. From there it’s a ferry ride out to Castlebay on the Isle of Barra, then another to Kinloch.”

  She didn’t have her watch, so she glanced at the sky. “Will we make the last ferry?”

  “Being summer, it doesn’t get dark until close to midnight, and even then, it’s no’ a full dark. The ferry schedule is busier these months. We should make it.” He paused for a moment and took a longer look at her face. “Were you…hoping otherwise
?”

  “No,” she said quickly.

  “But?”

  She sighed shortly. “I’ve been thinking about my arrival. I can’t decide if it would be easier to steal in during the night and hide until morning, have a chance to regroup. You know, put my game face on, then meet…whoever it is I’ll be meeting. But I’m assuming I’ll be a curiosity on an island your size, given the stakes. Everyone will know, right?”

  He nodded. “Aye. No’ much of a way around that. But I’ve told you—”

  “I know, Graham, and I’m not questioning you or your word. But you won’t be able to control everything, and so, I’m just…trying to gird myself, I suppose. I’m not even sure how I feel about all this yet, so I won’t know what to say to them.”

  “Then tell them that. It’s okay, Katie.” Taking her arm, he pulled her a step closer as the cab pulled away from the curb and another gentleman started loading her luggage on a trolley. “I don’t want you to put on some kind of act. I just want you to be you. Doubts and all, that’s fine. It’s to be expected. They’ll respect your honesty.”

  She looked up at him. “I don’t want to make things more difficult for you than they already are. And I don’t want you to waste time with me if you think there is a sure thing out there you should be focusing your energies on.” Even as she said it, something heavy and hurtful tugged inside of her, at the thought of him pursuing anyone but her, which…made absolutely no sense whatsoever. She had nothing invested in him beyond a two-day acquaintance.

  And a few shared, exceedingly hot visions.

  She studiously ignored that last thought.

  He let out a short laugh. “I willnae be pursuing any other unwilling brides. It was quite out of character for me to come to you. I’m no’ in the habit of begging for help, and certainly not traveling thousands of miles to do so. It was…an act of desperation. But if you find you canno’ follow through, no one will blame you. Least of all me. I won’t lie and say there won’t be disappointment, but as a people, we’ve dealt with far greater disappointment than this. I have other ideas on how I will approach the issue, so while the two of us tying the knot would be the easier and swifter recourse, its no’ the only one.”

  “You mean getting the vote to rescind it. So why not pursue that?”

  “Because it has even less a chance of succeeding. And, because frankly this solution will make everyone the happiest.”

  “Except you,” she said, studying his expression.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  She laughed. “Right. You mean that about as much as I do, all the times I’ve said it to you on this trip. Actually, I do mean it. I just wished I had stronger conviction in actually pulling it off.”

  He smiled briefly. “Then we understand each other quite well.”

  She smiled, too, though not with as much sincere warmth. She told herself it was silly to feel slighted that, to him, marrying her was a burden. Of course it was. She was a stranger. She knew the feeling came from having so recently abandoned her own wedding. When she married, she wanted it to be because her intended loved her more than air, as she would him.

  A marriage to Graham was business, no different from marrying Blaine, she supposed. But at least no one was pretending otherwise. There would be no gown, no ceremony—She glanced up at Graham. “W-we wouldn’t have to have a church ceremony, would we? If we…you know? That’s not part of the law, right?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I’ll have to ask Shay. But…I wouldn’t think so. No.”

  She noticed he was eyeing her again. “I’m asking so I know. Not because I—”

  “Katie, shhh. You’re worrying this far too much. You’re worrying this more than I am, and it’s my problem. No’ yours. Please know that. What happens, happens. What we decide works, will be what we do.”

  “I know, you said that, but…do you really believe the people on Kinloch won’t pressure me? I mean, they want you to win, right?”

  He visibly scowled at that. “Aye.”

  “I know,” she said, putting her hand over the one he’d laid on her arm. “Everything about how this is playing out isn’t what either one of us would want. Maybe both of us knowing that will make it easier to consider. I mean, it’s not like one of us thinks this is anything other than what it is, right?”

  He glanced down at her hand on his, then briefly at her face, then away, at the train station entry, though she doubted he was seeing much of it. “Aye. Come on, we’ve tickets to buy and a train to catch.”

  She thought he’d bring up the subject again once they were situated on the train, but he didn’t. He went in search of food, then came back and cajoled her into going with him to the service car where they could sit and eat a real meal. Her first in what felt like weeks. She was surprised to find she was ravenous. Maybe she’d finally relaxed enough to accept her journey as an adventure. Or maybe his reassurances that she’d be left alone to come to her own conclusions about his proposition had made her more comfortable with the whole thing. Whatever the case, she all but inhaled the Shepherd’s pie and baked apple dessert.

  Neither had done much talking, other then exclaiming on their hunger and commenting on the food. When they were done, Graham didn’t linger, but put his napkin on the table and stood, gesturing her to proceed him from the car back to their seats. She found herself wishing she’d bought a magazine in the train station, then was reminded once again that she hadn’t any funds. Though she knew without a doubt Graham would have taken care of any request she’d made, she was glad she hadn’t asked him for anything else. Since their little chat curbside, in front of the station, things, while not exactly awkward, were no longer as easy or congenial as they’d been.

  Nor were they laced with that heady physical chemistry she’d been feeling pretty much every second of her time spent near him—pretty much every second of the day since their meeting in the prayer garden.

  She leaned back and closed her eyes, and thought over that moment. What he’d said, how solicitous he’d been, despite the tension and stress he had been under himself. It said a lot about his character, as had pretty much everything he’d done and said since then.

  Except perhaps when he’d been lying half on top of her in the limo to the airport…and again in the cab leaving Glasgow. She wasn’t sure what that said about either of them.

  Maybe it was just as well their time completely alone with one another was coming to an end. She opened her eyes just enough to steal a sideways glance at him. His head was tipped back and his eyes were closed. She wondered how much rest he’d gotten since leaving Kinloch.

  She also wondered if she could fake sleep and shift her head to his shoulder all innocent like and enjoy his heat, and sturdy stability one last time. She closed her eyes and talked herself out of it. Playtime was over, as was the post-apocalyptic wedding limbo. Showtime was but hours away. She was going to have to stop thinking about Graham and his amazing wonder-kilt, and start thinking about his offer and her future, both immediate and distant. Where would she go after Kinloch? Where did she want to go?

  Most importantly, what in the hell did she want to do with herself once she got there?

  She had quite an arsenal of corporate marketing and sales skills, albeit in her case geared toward the ship-building industry, but still, management skills, both in education and in actual practice, had to count for something. She’d been very good at her job. Her family would have accepted nothing less. She’d find…something.

  She let out a long, soft breath. The very idea of going back to anything resembling her old job bored the ever-loving snot out of her.

  But what the hell else was she to do?

  Not for the first time did she wish she’d let herself dream, like Blaine had. Like Blaine always had. Since they’d been little kids, he’d always had the ability to create the most imaginative alternate universes for them to inhabit. Always about as far away from the reality of their uber-controlled lives as possible. As they’d grown
older, they’d come to appreciate what they did have, and tried like hell—she did anyway—to not resent what they didn’t. Like having normal parents who loved them for who they were, not what they could bring to the eventual corporate table. She knew she led an otherwise privileged life. No one ever felt sorry for the poor little rich girl. She’d focused on making the best of the good and tolerating the rest.

  Blaine, on the other hand, had always dreamed of what could be, what might be, if he ever had the balls to do something about it. Katie couldn’t handle letting herself dream the unattainable. It made focusing on the positive that much harder and seemed, all in all, a negative track.

  Not Blaine. He’d dreamed, and he’d dreamed big. Huge. His plans had only grown more detailed the older he got. He’d taken double major classes in college. Using money he earned on his own that his parents would never know about, he took additional classes toward the engineering degree he so wanted. Of course they’d found out. And of course they’d put an end to it. But not before making Blaine feel like the most ungrateful child on the planet for doing so.

  Katie thought it was then he’d finally resigned himself to his fate. She didn’t recall much time, if any, spent on dreaming big after that. His only big dream left was finding someone whom he truly loved, and who loved him back, which he had, in Tag.

  No one knew better than Blaine how to conduct a discreet life. Katie had no idea if his family knew, or suspected. On the one hand, she thought if they did, they’d have made a major production out of it. On the other hand, she couldn’t honestly imagine they didn’t. She’d often wondered if they were just practicing a don’t-ask-don’t-tell mantra because, in the end, Blaine was doing as they wanted him to do.

  She wondered what was happening right then, back home. Where he was, whether Tag had stepped forward. If her parents were so furious at what she’d done that they’d forgotten to be worried that she’d, essentially, gone missing. She made a face. No, they wouldn’t be worried about anything other than how the sham of a wedding was going to play out in the press. She imagined the past day-and-a-half had been spent mostly doing damage control and ordering others to track her down and bring her to hand.