What a guy!
Exhaustion had crept in by the time they were ushered into their hotel suite. She could only imagine Nairn was hanging on to his last energy by the thinnest of threads. Opening the door to their small balcony her gasp went uncontained. “Oh, friggin’ heck! Would you look at that?”
Directly in front of her was the Eiffel Tower. Since dusk was only just falling, the view over the city was incredible. So incredible it brought a lump to her throat. “You’ve done it again. You’ve stayed here before haven’t you? You knew we’d have a view like this?”
Nairn hobbled out onto the flagstones to join her at the railing, his arm draping her shoulder, his fingertips tingling her skin. “Never stayed in these suites before, but I’ve been on a lower floor, so yes, Aela, I did expect to get a good view when I told you to book this place.”
The balcony was the perfect spot as dusk fell, the temperature still pleasant to be out in, so tempting to flop down and savour the view for hours. Showering and gearing up to go downstairs, or out to another restaurant, seemed too exhausting for words, Nairn looking even worse than she felt she must do. Again Nairn took her breath away.
The dinner he’d ordered to be delivered to the small balcony table was…something else.
Enchanting. The setting was so magical she seriously struggled to keep her distance from the charm of Nairn Malcolm. Though shattered, he gave her a verbal guided tour of what they could see as they ate.
Room Service discretely cleared away leaving them with the fascination of a perfect Paris evening. Aela didn’t want it to end, but Nairn was beyond whacked. He hadn’t complained yet she could tell his chair, though normally comfortable for most people, wasn’t supportive enough. He’d already taken his pre-sleep dose of pain-killers and they were kicking in with gusto.
“This is too beautiful for words, Nairn. I don’t think I can tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve done.”
Nairn’s reply was sleepy. “Glad to be able to provide, Aela.”
“Come on, Mr. Masochist, time for bed.” Dropping a tiny kiss on his forehead she grasped his hand. Nairn’s tired eyes glowed in the semi-darkness. Her arms cradled as she ushered him through the doors and on towards his room.
“Have I wasted money on this suite, Aela?” Expectation, tinged with a dose of resignation, was in both tone and heated glance.
“Naughty, naughty of you, sir. Told you before. Friends, Nairn. I’ll help get you to bed…but that’s it. No super-extras. Remember?”
It was so hard to keep to the infernal resolution she’d made; impossible not to respond when he stole a fleeting kiss which had little oomph in it. Nairn swayed in her arms and it wasn’t due to the excellent wine she’d mostly had.
“You need rest or I’ll be flying you onto some hospital helipad for emergency resuscitation.”
“Bet you can give me all the emergency resuscitation I’ll ever need.”
“Not even going to take a rain check, sir. PA only, remember?”
Two mornings after the Paris trip, Aela walked through to Nairn’s office and switched on the speakerphone. The Glasgow City Centre Police Office was on the other end. Security tapes from the hotel car park had been examined, and they had evidence Nairn needed to view whenever he was next in Glasgow, though it wasn’t urgent.
On its own, it wasn’t conclusive enough evidence but might prove helpful. She listened in, hearing a clearly disappointed Nairn agreeing to meet with them as soon as possible though business would keep him in London for another few days.
Later on the phone chirped again.
“Who’s calling please?”
She maintained a professional tone even though she felt anything but gracious since she and her workaholic boss were at loggerheads again. Just short of four-thirty p.m. it had already been a long day. That 24-hour-a-day contract had been no joke, the frosty relations with Nairn so draining.
“It’s taken me ages to track him down. Put me through now.”
She winced and waited for a name. It was another of Nairn’s bloody women.
“You must be a new hire from the filing floor so I’ll excuse your ignorance. My name’s Thaliana.”
Through the open office door she could see Nairn popping his next pain killers into his mouth, swallowing them down with a swig of water.
“One moment, please.” Punching the call on hold, she walked over to Nairn’s office door, her voice like treacle, the false smile just as sickly sweet. “I’m transferring a personal call, sir. Don’t ask me who because she’s not enamoured about speaking with new hires.” She deliberately returned to her desk loudly informing him over her shoulder, “By the way, your caller doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Smacking the appropriate button to transfer, she then set about her next task, scolding herself for getting annoyed; reminding herself the woman was no concern of hers. She was only going to be Nairn’s employee for a getting-smaller-number of days, and she personally wasn’t going within ten feet of him again. Even as she thought the words, she knew how much of a lie they were. Her mood darkened as the afternoon waned.
Just short of six p.m., her irritability infuriated her. She needed to lay down the law or she’d surely combust. Broaching Nairn her tread was determined, a Nairn who’d been grouchy for hours as well.
“I’d like to finish soon, sir.” She forced her tone to be impersonal, yet decisive. “If you don’t want to return to the apartment now, I could organize a taxi for you, if you want to wait longer?”
Nairn’s glare could have stripped varnish. “Ten minutes. Then we’ll go.”
Their drive to the apartment was totally silent, but she wasn’t prepared to ask him if it was because she’d had the temerity to prompt their early exit from the office. Whatever caused it Nairn’s mood was as murky as her own.
He seemed on edge when they entered the apartment, his eyes hedging as he spoke. “Have the evening off. I’ve made my own plans. I don’t need you till after breakfast when we’ll leave for Lanera.”
Though he didn’t specify, it appeared he’d made a date with Thaliana. Aela knew she only had herself to blame if he turned his attentions to another woman, but she didn’t have to like her decision.
Determined not to be distressed by Nairn’s nasty dismissal she donned her best semi-casual clothes and made her way downstairs where the concierge ordered a taxi to take her to a Greek restaurant she’d seen advertised just weeks before, during her brief stay in London. At the time, she and her backpacking friends had avoided the expensive restaurant, but now it was the perfect boost to her spirits.
After a solitary meal, she lingered in the restaurant over coffee and ouzo, enjoying the traditional Greek dancing on the small dance floor. It was noisy, friendly and energetic – just right to lift her spirits. Advances by some handsome young men she rebuffed easily: she wasn’t in the mood for anyone else’s company, but did allow herself to be persuaded by her server to join in when snaking lines danced together. It was fun enough to pull her out of her gloomy disposition over deliberating what Nairn might, or might not, be doing with the sultry-sounding Thaliana.
Just past midnight she returned to the apartment and buzzed for entry, surprised Nairn answered himself instead of Richard, although he was clearly dressed for bed. On opening the door his intense scrutiny was accompanied by a Neanderthal grunt, his words not fit for polite company. He’d not seen her change of clothes earlier, had not seen the sparkling orange vest top and black satin trousers she was wearing.
“Been painting the town red, or should I accurately say orange, Miss Cameron?”
“Yes sir, probably just like you have.” Her reply was tinged with jealousy she couldn’t subdue. “I’ve had a lovely evening, thank you, but I’ll be ready whenever you want me in the morning to make our way back to Scotland.”
“That was the plan, Miss Cameron, though if you hadn’t been out partying all night,” he unfairly stated, “you’d already know we’re heading to Barcelona
instead. I’ve appointments there tomorrow.” He looked at the clock hanging on the wall. “Today. Later today.”
Aela refused to feel irresponsible since he was the one who’d insisted she have the evening off – which although she’d enjoyed – had been solitary. He could easily have called her phone to give her the update, so why hadn’t he?
“I’ll be ready whenever you want me.” Her voice was efficiently clipped as she bid him goodnight. The man made her so mad.
***
Nairn cursed quietly to quell the rising torment. “Breakfast at half past four. It’ll take at least forty-five minutes to drive to the airport. The plane will be readied for your six o’clock take off slot which I’ve already organized, myself, this evening.”
Aela’s swearing was unpleasant as she closed her door with a definite thump. His door thump was even better, but he was swearing at himself – not Aela.
The fact she was safely back at his apartment didn’t cancel out the anxiety he’d felt during her absence. Alone and wandering about in London. He’d expected her to have Richard get her a meal; had expected her to remain in his apartment. Had expected, hell, he didn’t know quite what he’d expected her to do, but it certainly hadn’t been go out and enjoy herself looking the way she did.
He’d had a bloody awful evening. He’d agreed to meet Thaliana for dinner, a stupid gut reaction to Aela’s rejection, but as a diversion it hadn’t worked. On three past occasions Thaliana had been amusingly sexy and temporarily available, the way he liked women. Short-term fun.
Thaliana had been sympathetic to his injuries, in some ways touchingly concerned, yet it had taken only a few minutes with the woman for Nairn to realize he didn’t want to be with her. He wanted Aela. Except Aela wanted nothing to do with him.
Riled over his wasted evening he yanked off his dressing gown. The need for Aela gnawed and he was no longer thinking short-term. What about her though? When he forced recall of her actual statements all she’d said was she didn’t do flings. He was sure now a short fling wouldn’t do it for him either. Could she have meant she would want him long-term, like maybe even very long term?
His feelings stunned him. Did it mean he more than just liked feisty Aela Cameron? He wasn’t sure if he was in love with her, but he did know he’d never felt such yearning.
Chapter Eighteen
“No more coffee, thanks, I’m done.” Nairn plonked his cup down and made to rise from the stool in the kitchen.
Four-thirty a.m. had found them snatching a quick breakfast. A few hours of sleep had done very little to bolster Aela’s confidence in confronting Nairn, yet she determined to be competent as she drove them to the airport. He was pleasantness personified. The infuriating man got her back up so easily, but she was being paid well to be on call twenty-four-hours-a-day.
Confidently flying Nairn’s jet, she was pleased she hadn’t had to talk to him since he stayed outside the cockpit. After handing over to ground crew in Barcelona they climbed into the waiting taxi, Nairn orchestrating the conversation as he organized the day’s meetings, his attitude so positive it made her sick. He was a bloody android. How else could the unfeeling tyrant seem so smug? He didn’t need to rub his conquest with another woman in her face.
She had visited Toledo and Madrid but hadn’t gone anywhere near the coastal cities of Spain during her backpacking trek, and she’d not stayed in anything like the stylish hotel he’d had her book them into. Again top of the range, it had every comfort they would require and many that they would never use.
After an early check-in to their suite, Nairn declared some rest time before their eleven a.m. meeting. Too strung out to relax, their tense interaction almost suffocating, she took the opportunity to go on a short walkabout close to the hotel.
The buildings around her were utterly amazing. Some were incredibly fanciful concoctions with pink chequered facades and magical balconies which just had to be for show only, since they seemed too impractical to be otherwise. Other buildings appeared just plain weird in their architectural style. Many had strong Islamic overtones in the turrets and long narrow windows, the streets a mish-mash of whimsical styles. The balconies of one particular building reminded her of face masks, the kind worn at regency masked balls, though she was unsure of why she thought that. The Casa Batllo…according to the sign. She resolved to pick up a guide book for more information.
The sun shone, and the air was pleasantly warm. Her grin widened as she moved on and found something just as exciting at the next corner. What an incredible city and she was only in one tiny part of it.
The last working days had been so fraught with tension it was a relief to be free of Nairn’s overpowering presence for a while. And free from the spectre of sabotage. Focusing on the views, she pushed aside gloomy thoughts.
Fabulous little tapas bars and small boutiques peppered the streets as she whisked around at warp speed to make the most of her short break. She wasn’t normally impulsive, but there was a dazzling gown displayed in one window that she couldn’t resist. Feeling reckless, buying it was a huge confidence boost. The sheath was a deep, sensuous petrel blue-green. One shouldered, it had delicate beading around the moulded bust line. The back was non-existent with the exception of one slender cross strap.
Not long after, she was back in their suite clutching the tissue-wrapped garment, contrasting ankle-strapped heels and a tiny clutch bag hung from her other hand. Her credit card had another serious dent in it though her savings account in Vancouver would cover the purchases till her generous salary was paid by Nairn.
Flopping down on her bed she exhaled, excitement still tingling. Who was this new woman? She’d existed for more than six months with a backpack full of inexpensive practical clothes and for no logical reason she’d just blown hundreds of euros on a dream dress she might never wear. Being in Nairn Malcolm’s orbit was turning her head, but she’d needed an outlet for the intense frustration consuming her.
She decided later that the mad spending-spree had been worth it since they spent hour after hour in tight negotiations with two different sets of clients. Their eleven a.m. meeting lingered through a late lunch, concluding around two. By then it was Spanish siesta time, though they didn’t have one. Up in their suite Nairn prepared her for the next client meeting starting at four. After the second round of talks, they stepped in to a small tapas bar next to the hotel. Over a quick glass of local wine and a selection of mouth-watering tapas Nairn declared another rest time as, Spanish-style, their dinner meeting wasn’t going to start till ten p.m.
Though the appointments had been hard work, the tension had dissipated and a more relaxed atmosphere had been the state of affairs.
Swings and roundabouts.
“It’s only just after six. If you’re not too tired we could maybe do a tour of Barcelona for the next couple of hours?”
“If I’m not too tired? You’re the one who must be shattered, Nairn Malcolm, but it’s a very tempting suggestion.”
She told Nairn about the buildings she’d had a brief glimpse of.
“You’re talking about the Antoni Gaudi buildings.” Nairn laughed at her expressions of delight. “Pretty impressive, huh?”
At her nodded agreement, he insisted she must see more of the architecture because she’d only seen the tiniest bit. It wasn’t too difficult to persuade Nairn that touring around in a taxi wouldn’t be nearly as exciting as going around on an open-topped City Tour bus, even if they could only go inside. “They’re tremendous value, Nairn, and the commentaries are packed with great information.”
An official tourist bus stop was right alongside their prestigious hotel, since it was situated in one of the main plazas.
Nairn manoeuvred himself into the empty back seat where he could stretch out his leg cast. Although they didn’t take advantage of the hop-on hop-off facility, she loved the couple of hours spent around the city and even allowed herself to be persuaded to go on the top of the bus at strategic points during the tou
r, egged on by Nairn who promised she’d get a better view of the fanciful Gaudi buildings, and the multitude of church spires adorning the skyline. His claim of being content to ride the lower deck she was happy to accept because she could see the break from work was rest enough for Nairn.
They were leaving the restaurant after their late dinner meeting when Nairn read a text on his cell. He flagged a taxi, the grim ogre back again. “My mother is meeting us at our hotel for breakfast before we head back tomorrow.”
When she suggested she’d breakfast alone and meet him afterwards Nairn’s refusal was categorical.
“You’ll be there, Aela.” His tone brooked no options.
“Why?” She looked at the line of his tense mouth, and the anger flashing in his eyes.
“Ruaridh has, apparently, been singing your praises.” His teeth looked almost glued together. “My mother has insisted she meet you.”
Again Ruaridh’s name was enough to send him into that thunderous black pit. Caitlinn had learned Nairn was going to be in Barcelona, and she must have got the information from Ruaridh, because all day they’d been conducting Gale Breakers business.
Caitlinn was a chic woman in her mid-fifties, superbly well-presented for eight a.m. From first introduction she was unfailing in her manner, and friendly. She asked Aela interested questions about her background, her world travels, and her current status as Nairn’s PA. Then Caitlinn asked about her intentions to visit her Scottish relatives with Ruaridh. Nairn looked confused as well he might because, as far as Aela knew, he’d been told nothing of those intentions.
“When I can arrange an afternoon off, I’ll organize a visit,” she told Caitlinn. “I’ve got family photographs on a USB stick that I intend to print out when I need them. I’m hoping someone will recognize my grandfather and family.”
Take Me Now Page 17