She berated herself for being fascinated by him. What qualities were there to like about the guy? He could be unfeeling, was a moody unpredictable sod at times, a workaholic…yet the inescapable fact was his rugged good looks and half mangled face warmed her inside. The ogre of Garvald Castle was the most stubborn, single-minded person she’d ever met, his self-discipline astonishing, but she wasn’t sure if she admired him, or was just overpowered by those traits.
She determined to maintain the status quo for a few weeks, though, and suppress any feelings beyond liking the man. Soon she’d be home in Vancouver, and Nairn Malcolm would just be someone else she’d met on her travels.
That notion didn’t cheer her.
“Your wound’s healing very nicely,” Rhona declared later when she popped in. “I’m done with you, if someone tends to it on Sunday. A quick sterilizing and a clean dressing is all you’ll need; the stitches are already dissolving. You’re managing your personal hygiene then, Nairn?” The nurse’s inquiry was deliberate, her statement falling into an unnatural tense silence. “You don’t smell bad, but the fragrance is pretty strong. Just use one or two, Nairn. No need to have Ruaridh buy up the whole island stock of baby wipes.”
Rhona’s chuckle reverberated long after she left.
So that’s what the smell was. Aela’s lips twitched though she didn’t dare laugh outright for Nairn looked…so purple!
Baby wipes? Who else would have thought of using them as a temporary measure? Ruaridh had said his independent son would find ways to overcome his current circumstances, and it would appear he had. She gave him full marks for ingenuity: the wipes more successful than his hacking off the unwanted material of his sweatpants on the day she’d arrived.
She grinned at the memory for she sensed the frustration that must have dogged Nairn when presented with a pair of sweatpants he couldn’t get on, since she now knew his other clothes were up the insurmountable spiral staircase in the master bedroom wardrobes.
Their time in the office was profitable, tandem working even more successful than the previous day, but by late afternoon Nairn’s disposition was back to remote. His rest had been short in the early afternoon, so he probably felt more pain than he admitted to.
Or, maybe his mood was due to the fact the police had come up with nothing conclusive. His London employees had been questioned, security tapes were being investigated. Tapes from the Glasgow hotel car park had also been requisitioned but were still under investigation. What could she do about his mood changes? She was his temporary employee, nothing more. She told herself for the umpteenth time, she shouldn’t forget the fact.
Dinner, however, was agreeable. Nairn’s inquiries about her background growing up in Vancouver showed interest, and she in turn learned about his early years on Lanera before going off to University.
Astonishment grabbed her when he dismissed her afterwards because she thought they’d been getting on fine. She would have been happy to spend the evening with him just hanging around the castle and was disappointed no end that she wasn’t.
A little while later, she was enjoying the evening sunshine outside a different bar from the previous evening when Ruaridh joined her.
“Hello, lass!” His greeting cheered as though it was a happening every day of the week. “How are things progressing up at the castle? Has Nairn driven you mad yet?”
“He’s getting closer.” Aela laughed at Ruaridh’s humour and far too coincidental arrival. “He’s trying, though I don’t know him well enough for it to happen yet. I need to know people very well before I get caught in such a trap.”
“You’ll know him soon, lass, because my son’s very predictable. I’ve just been to see him. He’s given me my marching orders too, and claims he doesn’t need my assistance.”
“Rhona told him to cut back on the baby wipes, so you won’t have to go and buy any more of them.” Having witnessed Nairn’s earlier discomfiture made her chortle.
Ruaridh agreed Nairn would have been mortally offended that she knew what he’d been using but divulged the pack of baby wipes held much more than fiddly cleansing pads for women.
Her giggle was infectious and set Ruaridh grinning as well. “Oh, he’d be stinking now, rather than use them, Ruaridh.”
After a pleasant few hours learning about Lanera and its history, she set off back to the castle with Ruaridh in tow. Although it wasn’t quite dark at eleven p.m. – it being almost the longest day of the year – there was no way he was going to let her walk home alone, even though she told him she’d done it the night before. He didn’t come in when they reached the castle door, but he did bid her a raucous goodnight.
When Aela reached the downstairs bedroom, Nairn accosted her, blocking her way.
“I see you’ve managed to attract an admirer already?”
His acerbic jibe bit her to the quick.
“Yes, I guess I have, sir. For your information it was your father.” Anger was building. She noted the annoyed eyes sparking at her and got even more exasperated, unable to control her hurtful responses. “We met in Mariskay, and, being the gentleman he is, he walked me home. What’s your problem anyway? You told me you didn’t want me tonight.”
She glared at the tense set of his shoulders as he hunched over the crutch. “You’re not in the wheelchair?”
“Glad you noticed. I don’t need it any more.”
The sound of the crutch clattering to the floor indicated how wrong he was.
Both of Nairn’s hands slapped forward pressing her to the wall as he slipped into a tilt, the rough edge on the arm cast stabbing into Aela’s upper arm.
“Nairn!” Giving thanks that she was strong, she managed to right him again before they both headed to the floor in a crumpled heap.
He looked at her arm in horror and at the rough edges of his plaster cast, his apology a whisper to the ceiling. A trickle of blood seeped from one of the scratches.
“It’s nothing. Let me help you in to bed.”
“I’m fine.” He hobbled away.
It took minutes for her heart to stop pounding and her mind to gain control as she assessed what had happened. The whole episode had been so unforeseen and so rapid she wondered if she’d imagined it. Why was he so angry? She’d squealed her head off, for sure, but it had been to make him aware of where the cast was gouging her. She wasn’t annoyed that he’d almost fallen.
***
Inside the bedroom Nairn slumped against the wall. What the hell was he thinking? His bloody arm cast had made her bleed. Being confined to the castle and not knowing what she’d been doing had frustrated him no end.
Was his father really pursuing her? He knew Ruaridh’s voice too well not to have recognised who had walked her back to the castle.
A persistent niggle continued. Could Aela like his father more than him? A horrific thought made his stomach tighten beyond belief. Aela a potential step-mother?
Never in this lifetime was that going to happen.
Chapter Eleven
Aela woke in a bit of a snit.
The encounter with Nairn had taken on different scenarios in her fitful dreams.
It was unfortunate the morning had dawned almost as dismal as her mood. The weather was overcast with grey, brooding skies and a constant drizzle. Rain didn’t normally bother her, but it seemed all too depressing for words. Since Nairn had told her at dinner the night before he wouldn’t need her much over the weekend, since he claimed he was going to do what the doctor ordered and rest up more, the time was virtually her own till summoned.
Sipping a glass of orange juice in her tiny kitchen, she decided exercise would lift her spirits. The temptation to saddle up and explore was strong because she felt like fleeing the castle, but it wouldn’t be fun with the mist shrouding the area, she’d see very little and then disappointment would set in.
The pool.
An unbelievable treat to use on a whim. Lapping till she was tired and hungry, she headed for the railing to exit the wate
r just as Nairn entered, propped upon his crutch. Her fingers fumbled on the metal grip, her knees trembling as she climbed out. In spite of her misgivings, yet again, Nairn managed to make her grin like a Cheshire cat.
Black plastic garbage bags were an awkward wrap around his casts, kept in place by rubber bands, and he wore only boxer shorts. White silk.
Hells teeth!
They were virtually see-through in the pool lighting. Aela closed her eyes and said a little prayer – though whether it was for the strength to avoid looking at his powerful body, or to bask in its glory, she wasn’t too sure. Snatching up the towel from the lounger she wrapped it around herself.
“Good morning. I hope it’s all right for me to use the pool?”
Nairn, it seemed, couldn’t take his eyes off her. The skimpy bikini she wore was rendered invisible as he stared. “Of course you can use the pool. I can’t swim for a while, though I’m going to indulge in the briefest of saunas. Even I’m balking at the poncy smell dogging me.”
“I’m going to breakfast after I shower. Would you like some?”
Nairn looked far too mesmerized by the beads of water running down between her breasts to answer her question. “Mmm…I haven’t had…some…not…yet.” His gaze eventually looked up. “What were your plans?”
“A traditional Scottish breakfast?” she suggested, attempting a distraction with humour. “No tartan but Kirsty’s dead set on me having haggis and black pudding. My little refrigerator is groaning with the stuff. I don’t eat that kind of breakfast on a week day but, since today’s Saturday, perhaps you’ll join me?”
“In the apartment?” His throat clearing was so loud she couldn’t fail to hear it. His gaze slipped away to look at the water before he answered. “How about we assemble our resources in the main kitchen instead, although you’ll have to accept I’ll just be the onlooker.” Glittering blue eyes locked onto hers, a whimsical smile lifting the corner of his lip.
Aela moved towards the door to exit the pool suite, but he blocked the way. “I owe you an apology for last night, Miss Cameron.” His eyes sought her forgiveness yet the banked heat was unambiguous.
“No! You don’t, sir. It was an accident.” Determination stiffened her shoulders as she brought her gaze back up to face him, the small smile she produced she hoped displayed no offence. “Could have happened to anyone.”
Twenty minutes later both were dried and dressed and in the kitchen. At least Aela was dressed. His wheelchair a thing of the past, Nairn hobbled around in the ubiquitous bath robe. It was tied securely at his waist, which was unfortunate since Aela couldn’t see which boxers he was wearing. Her small groan was accompanied with a reluctant smile as she tucked such thoughts away. None of that.
Together they decided what to include in their hot calorie-laden breakfast.
“Yes, fruit.” Her smile was adamant. “Peaches, mango and strawberries.”
“Sure. Okay.” Nairn teased. “Hey, I like fruit. Just not on the same plate as my eggs, haggis and black pudding.”
Aela grinned. “It’s a good balance. Live dangerously.”
“You don’t think I’m doing that already? Looking like this?” Nairn’s eyebrows almost hit the ceiling, his chortle amazingly endearing.
“Okay!” she beamed. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.”
The words may have been too close to the bone yet they did lighten the mood. They were comfortable with each other as she assembled their meal, though Nairn got in her way rather a lot as he attempted to set the table, the best sort-of-help he could manage. The occasional brushing together of their bodies she put down to his awkward movements – though she knew it was a lie. She could have moved more quickly. So why wasn’t she doing it?
They managed to have a decent conversation with him asking about her decision to travel the world and her future university plans. In turn, she learned about his time at his Edinburgh University and then his year afterwards at Harvard Business School.
“Whoa! Harvard. I’m so impressed. Nothing but the best finishing school, Mr. Malcolm.”
“I never quite thought of it as such, Miss Cameron, but you’re bang on the button.” Nairn smiled. “My choice of Harvard was on purpose since it would improve my future business developments.”
“Only the best on your CV?” she quipped.
“Never needed a CV. I’ve always been my own boss.”
Her peal of laughter echoed around the kitchen. “I can see the prestige of having a Harvard qualification, though couldn’t you have done your MBA in the UK? Somewhere with the same kudos?”
“Calling me a snob, Miss Cameron?”
“Would I dare?”
Her laugh faltered when his features sharpened. Nairn looked as though he wasn’t going to reply at first. His good fingers drummed a short rhythm on the table as an enigmatic smile bathed his face. Aela waited, and waited. Then, a decision having been made, he carried on. “I needed to get the hell out of Scotland at the time, all the way out of Europe.”
She couldn’t imagine what would have made it so important for him to ship out. He’d set up his diving school on Lanera with a legacy from his maternal grandmother before then. What would make him want to leave the country?
“The United States was far enough away for me to leave behind the trauma of my parents’ divorce.”
“Ah! Not an amicable separation?
“Is there ever?” Nairn huffed, a rueful look flashing across to her. He paused a while before continuing, his words measured. “The Ruaridh you see now is a much more relaxed version than the one of years ago. Caitlinn, my mother, never liked staying on Lanera; hated the climate, constantly harped on about going somewhere warm.”
Aela filled in the gaps as he revealed details. “Ruaridh had his boatyard business here?”
“Ruaridh wasn’t a man to compromise when it came to the boatyard. And he doesn’t compromise on his lifestyle now, either.”
At his intent stare, she wondered if he was highlighting what he regarded as his father’s negative qualities on purpose.
“My father, Miss Cameron, wouldn’t budge his ass from Lanera even if a tsunami hit – not for my mother and not for any woman now.”
“That bad?” She joked, though was curious since she didn’t feel she’d had a real answer to her question. “But you still felt you had to be so far away?”
“They separated when I first went to University. Before the divorce papers were even drawn up my mother had taken up with an obscenely rich Spanish lover, a man she married at first opportunity.” Nairn sounded so bitter Aela swallowed at his tone. “With future money no object, Caitlinn never lowered herself to haggle with Ruaridh over assets on Lanera during the divorce proceedings.” He scrubbed his hair back before massaging his neck, a trait Aela realized highlighted his tension. “But she haggled constantly over me.”
“But you were…what?” She was dumbstruck. “Nearly twenty?”
“Caitlinn had existed for years being jealous of any time I spent with my father, and after the divorce she wanted me to spend every vacation at her new home near Barcelona.” Nairn appeared to shrug off unpleasant memories as he looked askance. “I wanted to be on Lanera to be at my own fledgling business. So, if I was on the island, it always appeared Ruaridh won the battle.”
“Do you ever see her now?”
Nairn’s eyes lightened a little as he dredged up a smile of sorts. “Sometimes…though still not as often as she’d like. But that’s enough of my history for one session. Time for a break, Miss Cameron.”
Aela was confused. Nairn’s friendly attitude was what she wanted, what she’d suggested in the pool suite. Yet she should also be glad he was demonstrating he could maintain a control which kept them within the bounds of employer and employee. Somehow, though, she was disappointed.
“I’m going back to work, though I won’t need you. If the weather improves by midday, and conditions are favourable, maybe you’d like to take out the floatplane?”
&n
bsp; “Yay! How do I learn a Scottish version of a reverse rain dance? Got Shamans-R-Us in your local directory?”
Nairn’s chuckle was her only answer as he hobbled off.
After a solitary lunch the weather had improved. An occasional cloud shadowed the sky, but high enough not to be an issue for handling a floatplane. Heading to the key-safe she collided with Nairn coming out of the bedroom.
“Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention,” he laughed, looking so glad to see her the day seemed to get brighter.
Aela wasn’t so sure of his apology, though, for it seemed he’d just barrelled himself out into the corridor, yet she wasn’t quibbling because he’d just wrapped himself around her and held her tight. Pity she didn’t want the contact.
Crap. What a liar she was!
“I’m heading down to the floatplane now.” She mumbled at his shoulder, the peculiar smell one she was getting used to. Reluctantly extracting her arms from their tangle she was pretty sure Nairn appeared as unwilling to break free as she was. She wanted to slide back into his embrace and maybe do a bit more than clutch?
It wasn’t really a surprise when he told her taking out the floatplane was a great idea, but she could only do it if she took him too. Aela bristled like a porcupine. Was he checking up on her flying skills? Her tone likely came over sharper than intended, but she didn’t care to be an object of doubt as she took a deliberate step away from him.
“Listen, you silly cretin. Those ribs of yours are not nearly well enough for a trip in a tight little floatplane. And there will be no room for that stiff cast of yours.”
To her total surprise Nairn’s laugh was hearty and didn’t look too pained. Just a little squint showed his discomfort.
“Don’t you worry about my stiff leg. Somehow, I am going to fit.” His deliberate hesitation didn’t faze Aela as his laugh rumbled even more. “I’m going stir crazy. I’ve checked the weather and everything’s favourable.”
There was no impediment to them taking out the floatplane.
Well, actually there was, but it was overcome with ease.
Take Me Now Page 10