“Should I make dinner for Ruaridh, too?” Her inquiry was tentative, not sure if his father would be dining with them.
“Ruaridh? Why the hell would he be eating with us?”
Nairn’s snarl indicated she shouldn’t even have asked, his blue gaze a merciless inquest but she wasn’t going to be browbeaten by his bad temper. “It’s a good enough enquiry, sir! Seeing as how your father ate here last night, and at breakfast this morning, and lunch.”
Nairn’s use of her name was grittily direct. “Miss Cameron. My father and I lead separate lives. It’s not normal for him to be around the castle and, as of lunchtime, I can guarantee it won’t be a regular occurrence in the future either. I don’t need his fussing.”
The glowering ogre was back again. Biting back the response she wanted to make she turned for the door. “You’ve made that perfectly clear, Mr. Malcolm. I’ll let you know when the food’s ready.”
She stomped to the kitchen to see what she could rustle up for dinner, berating herself for getting annoyed with the insufferable man. She would maintain her professional polite attitude. She drilled it into herself as she opened and closed cupboards looking for something to produce a quick meal, wondering how to annoy him just a little bit like his tone had scalded her. Maybe there was something she could add, like a little arsenic? Nothing that would kill him of course – just something to make him feel a little bad for a while?
Jeeze! She was disgusted with her thoughts because the man was already a debilitated wreck. How could she even joke about making him worse?
A short while later she invited him through to eat, her manner calm. “I neglected to ask if you have any special dietary requirements, but since this is your kitchen I rustled around in the cupboards and reckoned I could give you anything.”
The short break from each other’s presence seemed to have done the trick since Nairn’s snappiness had vanished, congeniality clipped into place. “You’re correct, Miss Cameron. You can give me anything.”
Drawing in a deep breath Aela concentrated on her task. The last thing she needed was to burn herself – literally or metaphorically. She removed plates from the warming oven then skilfully ladled food from the wok. Hot and cold. That was what Nairn Malcolm was and she was already fed up.
Contrarily, though, lukewarm was also unappealing.
Chapter Seven
Nairn’s failure was spectacular.
He tried to imagine his previous girlfriends in his kitchen as he watched Aela move around but drew a complete blank. None of the women he’d associated with in recent years were in any way domestic, as far as he knew. They’d never made him an impromptu meal since none of them had ever been to the island. When he was at Garvald Castle he came alone, and cooked for himself.
The smell of food was enticing, though not nearly as enticing as the smell of Aela herself when she placed a plate in front of him. Her light scent, vanilla or something similar, had been tantalizing whenever she’d come near him. The whole damned day.
“Please.” He answered her silent gesture with the soy sauce bottle.
Aela liberally sprinkled it on both meals then sat next to him. Spearing up her first mouthful, she indicated they should tuck-in while the food was hot.
“Thank you, Miss Cameron,” he mumbled between mouthfuls. “Very tasty.”
He slurped around the noodles he speared up with a regular tined fork, because there was no way he was going to embarrass himself by failing with the chopsticks Aela handed to him as an option, utensils he would have handled competently before his accident.
Four weeks of bumbling around in this woman’s presence now sounded more of a torture than his physical hurts.
The noodles should have glided down his throat. They didn’t. Every single strand choked him.
Karma sucked. With the state he was in, any presentable woman would put him on edge. He’d probably knock her out with one of the casts if he went anywhere near her. The image posed too many opportunities since he’d be wearing the damn casts for longer than 4 weeks. The scenario was probably a lawsuit waiting to happen. Doggedly forking up more of the stir-fry, he avoided looking at her. The woman was bad for his sanity but thoughts ran on regardless…
***
The meal was strung with anxiety. Aela was aware of how much Nairn had to concentrate on eating with his left hand; aware of his almost permanent study of his plate and of how he avoided her eyes, yet no matter he seemed indifferent to her, she was aware of his obdurate strength. Somehow, she managed to keep the meal going with small talk, uncontroversial small talk, till they’d finished and she started to tidy up.
“I’d help clear away, Miss Cameron, but I’ll be more of a hindrance than a help. When you’re done here though, I’ll show you how to set the alarm system by the back door.”
A short while later she followed him beyond the bedroom he was sleeping in to the back door where she’d bid Ruaridh goodnight the evening before. Nairn demonstrated how to set and clear the alarm. “If you’re not planning to be out this evening we can set it just now?”
A positive answer seemed like the response he sought from the tilt of his eyes, but agreement was easy since she had no intention of wandering. Rain had begun to fall during the late afternoon, and it was now even heavier than before.
Although Nairn wasn’t expecting her to do any more work that night, she opted to clear some of the backlog of recorded phone messages. He also settled back to work talking only when she needed clarification on something, his gazes being a constant assessment. At times something flared in them, not banked quickly enough. His dominating presence across the room intruded, though, as she learned how to respond to the multitude of inquiries till just after nine-thirty. She’d long since come to the conclusion Nairn ought to be lying down but was dogged about carrying on because she was still working. Eventually she thumped her way through closing down her computer, all the while muttering and mumbling.
“You know something, Nairn Malcolm? Yesterday I called you some real nice names. Today, I’ve been very polite up till now, but I’m going to add another few. Don’t worry, though. They’re in my head this time since you’re now my friggin’ boss. I can see your butt has glued itself to that chair. Mine hasn’t. I’m through being a masochist for the evening, sir.”
Nairn’s head lifted the tiniest bit to look at her, his unfathomable expression annoying as he waited for her to finish. Her sarcasm wasn’t ruffling him, not even the slightest.
Stomping across to his desk she forced him to raise his head to make proper eye contact. “You’re one of those infuriating guys who don’t leave their seat in the movies till the very last credit has rolled, aren’t you? Even when it’s been the crappiest film you’ve ever seen! Savour the last drop of pain, won’t you?”
Since Nairn did nothing but stare at her, she added a little more. “My pillow has a nice dent waiting for me to lay my tired little head down on it. I strongly suggest you do that, too. You’re way past needing it. Good night, sir.”
Though she didn’t look back, she wasn’t confident her irritated flounce had made any impact.
***
Nairn watched her disappear knowing his words were unlikely to be heard since she’d already rounded the doorjamb.
“Good night to you, too, Miss Cameron.”
Way past needing it? She was so right. He was beyond shattered; the biggest glutton for punishment since he hadn’t wanted to slope off to bed. Avoiding playing the wimp in front of Aela Cameron was proving to be a nightmare.
He manoeuvred himself into the wheelchair and wheeled past her work station. An organized series of sticky notes paraded themselves down the edge of her otherwise tidy desk. His mouth quirked up in admiration at the prompts because although their conversations had been fraught with tension, and their eye contact had been full of deliberate avoidance tactics, she’d relentlessly rooted out details she needed to know to make progress with whatever she’d been working on. The sticky notes
indicated her strategies for not forgetting, or losing information.
What the hell?
Next to the phone was a sticky note with both Ruaridh’s home and cell numbers on it. Sudden anger made him want to rip it to shreds. Had Ruaridh visited her while he’d tried to rest earlier that day? His hand thumped the desk dislodging some of the notes. Gritting his teeth, his swearing resourceful, he sorted them all back in order before taking himself off to his temporary bedroom.
***
Aela didn’t allow the drizzle of rain to stop her from exploring the next morning after she’d breakfasted in her apartment. A fitful sleep, disturbed by dreams of a totally healed Nairn, resulted in a need of fresh air to clear her sluggish system. Finding the alarm already disengaged her reckoning was that Ruaridh had paid another early visit. That was a brilliant thought since he could deal with any hygiene requirements Nairn might have. She wasn’t going to even think about washing Nairn Malcolm. No way!
Wandering outside she explored the area surrounding the castle, located the helicopter hangar, the garage block, and further on some stables where she found Nairn kept half a dozen horses. So, her sexy wild highlander did have a trusty steed. He’d not mentioned that form of transport. A hearty laugh erupted when her active imagination envisaged a scene where she shared a horse with him in his present state. Without plaster casts and injuries would be another matter entirely.
“Come anytime and I’ll find tack for you. Nairn won’t be riding for a while, but that’s no reason for you not to. Our bookings for the locals aren’t too heavy just now so there’s likely to be a spare mount.” Angus, the young head groom, issued his invitation, deliberate in informing her he lived alone in the cottage next to the stable block.
Aela fended off his playful tactics. Although he seemed very nice, she wasn’t interested. Nonetheless, riding really appealed because she’d ridden often as a child, though less so in recent years.
Short of eight-thirty she was back in the castle. It wasn’t a surprise to find Nairn already working, typing one-handed at a marginally faster rate than the day before. Start positive she thought, entering the room. “Good morning. How are you doing?”
Her polite enquiry earned a genuine smile that warmed down to her toenails; it seemed the ogre was in hiding. Encouraging, yet she wondered what the heck had gone wrong the previous afternoon to change his mood so much. And how long would his present mood last?
“Much better, Miss Cameron.” Nairn continued to smile. “You found the apartment comfortable?”
“Absolutely. The bed’s a dream.”
An economy with the truth. He didn’t need to know he’d featured highly in her dreams. Nairn’s reply was muffled as he shunted a piece of paper on the desk, a purposeful focus on his monitor rather than on her, but she noticed the smile had already slipped. No scowl, just back to the bland look.
Covertly studying him, she could see he’d attempted some sort of hair wash because his thick black hair was still damp. Thankfully all blood traces seemed now removed from the glistening strands, his whole person looking cleaner than the previous morning. Again he wore combats, the present pair flapping open at the knee on his plastered leg. His short-sleeved shirt was actually buttoned in three places, though where it gaped at his waist the bruising was already ageing to a greenish hue, the purple-black diminishing. His facial bruising was similar: the swelling around his eye and cheek barely visible.
Settling into her chair she attacked the stack of paperwork he’d already deposited on her in-tray. Due to methodical note-taking the day before, few questions needed clarification as she waded through the pile. More than an hour sped past. When Nairn eventually spoke she was so involved with complicated correspondence that his brusque voice jolted her. He was awkwardly cradling his phone to his shoulder, keeping the caller on hold.
“Miss Cameron? Please call Richard, my housekeeper in London. Ask him to have my suit trousers and jackets altered to accommodate my casts, or have new ones made if necessary. No matter the cost it has to be without delay.”
She found the number and introduced herself.
“Can you measure the circumferences of his casts for me?” Richard’s question, she knew, was reasonable; but the measuring would not be impersonal.
When Nairn completed his current call she relayed Richard’s request.
“Check the drafting table in the corner. You should find a tape in the drawer.” Nairn turned his office chair around ready for her to comply and measure, seemingly not wanting any time wasted over it.
Feeding the tape around his lower leg at strategic places she took the necessary measurements, unsure of how much she welcomed the sensation of being at his feet. Nairn’s laboured breathing above her didn’t make it any easier. Taking his arm measurements was trickier since she needed to be even closer, her movements jittery. Manoeuvring the arm cast she was so conscious of him, only managing to record the measurements by avoiding eye-contact. His muscular physique wasn’t the only overpowering thing she was aware of though; there was a strong fruity aroma that somehow didn’t match Nairn’s personality. Her eyes lifted to his for explanation.
His small grin was of…mischievous delight?
She returned to her desk and was absorbing details from a memo when yet another call shattered the peace.
“Someone asking for you personally, sir,” she informed Nairn as she transferred it to his line.
“Mhari!” His delighted laugh drifted across to her. “How are you?”
The soft resonance in his tone discomfited Aela though all he’d done was greet the caller. They’d shared a room for hours now, and he’d been on the phone often, but she’d never heard these teasing tones.
“Well, not quite, though how did you know?”
Yet another laugh burst from him.
“Of course I wanted you yesterday! You’ve no idea. Oh yes, Mhari, your personal treatment’s in urgent need.”
Personal treatment? She didn’t want to listen to any more, but the confines of the room made it impossible for her not to hear his noisy conversation.
“Yes. So clever of you, Mhari. My bedroom needs are a priority right now!”
Jeeze! That was way too much to hear. Aela surged up and left the room. It was none of her business what Nairn said to female acquaintances.
On her return a few minutes later the call had ended, Nairn’s mood heartier if the beaming smile coming her way was a measure of his frame of mind. Grunting her way into her chair she attacked her keyboard, and ignored him.
After the appetizing lunch Kirsty had prepared, and some surprisingly pleasant conversation between the three of them, Nairn declared he would rest and wheeled himself out of the kitchen.
“Have you had a look around the castle, Miss Cameron?”
“Call me Aela, please. Miss Cameron is far too stodgy.”
Aela laughed at Kirsty’s expression when the housekeeper learned that although she had already stayed two nights she’d only been in a few of the ground floor rooms.
“I’ll give you a wee guided tour then, Nairn won’t mind a bit.”
A look at the whole castle followed which to her utter delight included an indoor swimming pool and gym area, located further along the same wing as the office apartment. The renovations to Garvald Castle were superb, no expense having been spared in the rebuild. The décor was spectacular yet not very personalized. The exceptions being the great room, the office, and the master bedroom suite on the first level, where, she imagined, Nairn’s preferences had been catered to. It looked as though he wouldn’t be occupying the upper floors for a while, though, for the spiral staircase was presently insurmountable. From Kirsty, she learned Nairn’s small downstairs bedroom had been intended for occasional domestic help.
The master bedroom suite was fabulous. Extending across the complete first level of the original square keep its darkest navy was highlighted with soft dove grey; cool, yet classy. A massive canopy bed, festooned with piles of soft cushio
ns made her want to experience its comfort. Images of Nairn occupying it flashed up but they were firmly squashed. Then her wayward brain recollected the earlier phone call. She categorically did not want to imagine some female called Mhari occupying the room.
A huge custom built shower cabinet with multiple massaging shower jets meant his en-suite bathroom was luxury personified.
Determined to lock Nairn into a little pocket of her conscious mind labelled temporary employer, she settled into her afternoon work back down in the office. He returned looking well-rested, and they segued into comfortable working harmony.
The phone rang.
“It’s Robert Colby. Your security guard.” Aela transferred the call feeling that there was something odd about the request. “Giving you the heads up, he sounds pretty miffed. There’s a problem with equipment in the London warehouse. Needs to speak to you personally.”
Chapter Eight
“What now?”
Nairn was instantly alert. Robert Colby wouldn’t call about something trivial. A few seconds later his good hand thumped the desk startling Aela on the other side of the room. Her gaze locked onto his, her concern discernible.
“I’m going to nail the bastard’s ass to the wall when I find out who’s doing this! Yes, Robert. Alert the police, now, and cordon off the whole area. Let me know as soon as the cops arrive, and get me a police contact name!”
After issuing further instructions he finished the call, so furious he could barely think.
“Can I do anything for you, Mr. Malcolm?”
Aela’s question sounded cautious as she walked towards him, yet her gait was determined. He liked that about her, but it was difficult to answer. He cursed, all the while assessing how much she needed to know, since she was now in the line of fire too.
Diving gear for the Malaysian resort had one particular valve malfunctioning. On first glance that might seem a manufacturing fault, but he knew better. To ensure equipment was dispatch-ready there was always a double-check system in place before delivery of all goods. The equipment in question had been received from the manufacturer just eight days before, and had been through a thorough check on arrival at his warehouse. If the goods-in check had been inefficient it was easy to verify which technician had recorded on it. Or, someone had gained recent access to the tanks. He veered towards the latter, in view of recent happenings. Security cameras throughout the warehouses would indicate if there had been unauthorized individuals wandering around, though scrutiny of the tapes would take time.
Take Me Now Page 7