Laird of the Highlands: International Billionaires IX: The Scots

by Caro LaFever

  Ready for Ceri.

  But this…this hurting and scaring…he didn’t know anything about any of this. Porn didn’t tell a man about emotions, and his buddies hadn’t talked about the delicate feelings going on in their relationships.

  His head began to throb.

  “You need to go to Edinburgh.”

  “Why?” That made no sense, either. He’d visited the city as a child several times. His mum liked to shop and his da enjoyed the shows and culture. Lorne had never particularly liked the town. When he’d been young, he’d found it overwhelming. Now, now that he was used to London, he assumed he’d find it boring.

  “Because you need to give her some time,” Hugh stated. “And you need to buy her something.”

  “I don’t want to give her some time. I want to see her now.” He wanted to see her naked again. There was so much he still needed to do with her. The variations that had run through his head last night when he’d lain in bed, wide awake, had staggered him. He doubted he’d be able to do all of them within the short time he had with the woman. “I don’t have enough time as it is.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Doc’s voice went sharp.

  “I mean I heard from Reid.” He kept his gaze on the cottage, willing her to appear. “The court accepted my challenge to the will.”

  “And?”

  He frowned at his mobile before putting it back to his ear. “And this means Ceri Llewellyn will soon be gone.”

  “Her last name is Olwen.” Hugh’s voice filled with immediate annoyance. “It’s not like you to miss this detail.”

  “She was married—”

  “I know what you’re doing, old chap. It won’t work.”

  His headache thrummed into his neck, making him sullen. Mouth tightening, he thought about hanging up.

  “You’re trying to distance yourself from her,” his friend inserted before he could make the decision and execute. “It’s too late for that.”

  “I just want to have sex with her.”

  Doc’s sigh gusted down the line. “Keep telling yourself that.”

  “I’m going to hang up now and go see where she is.”

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Something in his partner’s tone stopped Lorne’s finger just when he was about to tap the phone off. “I don’t want to go to Edinburgh.”

  “Do you want to have her in your bed?”

  “Yes.” He leaned his forehead on the windowpane and scowled at her cottage, willing her to come out.

  “Then do what I tell you to do, okay, Skiff? Don’t I know how to deal with the ladies?”

  Yes, Hugh Brooks did. At Oxford, he’d been the one male every girl wanted. He’d been happy to oblige as many of them as he could. Once they’d landed in London and Gaes, Inc. had taken off, his partner had spent the last five years plowing through London females like he aimed to date every one of them. What astonished Lorne above anything else was how they all continued to love him. Even after he gave them the inevitable goodbye and danced on to the next one.

  Hugh knew women.

  “All right,” he muttered into the phone. “What do I do?”

  “You go to Edinburgh today without saying anything to Ceri Olwen.”

  He twisted around and stomped to his armoire.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Aye.” Yanking the door open, he glared at his clothes. “I heard ye.”

  “You spend the night there.”

  His headache banged like a drum inside his head. “It only takes three hours to get there. I can drive there and back in one day.”

  “You’re going to want to shop for a house in New Town.”

  His hand stilled on the hanger holding his best shirt. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  A sudden splash of loud voices rose in the background, telling Lorne his partner was at work. Doc had chosen to place his office in the middle of the pool of intern designers that came through their doors every quarter. The kids were deafening and intense, but his friend said they helped him keep a finger on the pulse of the industry.

  A door slammed shut and the voices went quiet.

  “Okay, now we can talk again,” Doc said.

  “What do ye mean?” he growled into the phone. “I don’t need a place in Edinburgh.”

  “Yes, you do. You’ll see that eventually. Plus, New Town is a better fit for you than the Old.”

  He hated being confused. Rarely, did his friend ever put him through it. In his logical mind, he knew there must be a solid reason Hugh was doing this, yet everything inside him wanted to tell him to go to hell.

  But Doc knew women.

  And he wanted to have sex with Ceri.

  Bending down, he yanked out his suitcase. “I’m going to the city to buy her something nice. That’s all.”

  “Yes, that too.” His friend’s voice turned cheerful. “Good idea.”

  “It was your idea, arsehole.”

  “There’s my Scottish laddie with his fine temper.”

  “I don’t have a temper.”

  “With your red hair?”

  A hoot echoed into his ear making his headache ten times worse. His seven college buddies, his team, his clan, always claimed he had a fiery temper that would flame into a bonfire eventually. Lorne had always answered these claims with stoic tolerance. Because he didn’t have a temper often, and usually it flashed only for a moment or two. He’d never understood what his friends were aiming at with this kind of nonsense.

  “I’m packing,” he snarled.

  “Excellent.” Hugh ignored the snarl. “I know a smart lady who sells property in Edinburgh. I’ll give her a call and set up an appointment for you tomorrow morning.”

  “I’m not buying property.”

  His friend whipped right by his surly statement. “I’ll call another lovely lady who is the manager of a grand hotel in the heart of Edinburgh. I’m sure she’ll have a room for your sorry soul.”

  He stuffed his best shirt and suit into the suitcase and slammed it shut. “I’ll stay for one night, Doc, and then I’m coming back.”

  “To Ceri.”

  Problem of Ceri.

  Solve Ceri.

  To Ceri.

  His headache shot into migraine territory, making him question the wisdom of driving in this condition. Still, he couldn’t code in this state and Doc’s warning about staying away from the woman rang in his ear. If he drove slowly and didn’t turn on the radio, he’d calm down soon.

  “I’ll buy her something in the city, but—”

  “Some pretty lingerie would be a good idea,” Doc suggested. “I’ll ask my Edinburgh lady friends and see if they have any suggestions.”

  The thought of Ceri in tight lace and high heels swept through him like a Scottish gale. He stopped on the top of his stairs and closed his eyes to take in the picture and imprint it on his brain.

  “Doing some imagining, Skiff?” His friend chuckled. “You’ve gone quiet.”

  “Bugger off.” He opened his eyes and took the stairs two at a time.

  “Give me a call when you get into town and I’ll have directions and contact information.”

  “I’m not buying property.” Grabbing his keys off the Chippendale pier table, he went through the castle’s front doors and locked them behind him.

  “Here’s the thing,” Doc responded. “With the new center opening in your area, it would be smart to open offices in Edinburgh.”

  Lorne went through the calculations in his head as he strode to the Range Rover. Stuffing his suitcase in the backseat, he then climbed into the driver’s seat. By the time he’d snapped the seatbelt around him, he’d added up the profit and loss of Doc’s suggestion. “That wouldn’t be sound financially. We only need one office.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t go for it,” his partner mumbled.

  “Then why did ye suggest it?” The car’s engine rumbled to life.

  Doc ignored the question and went at him
with another side of the proposal. “Ceri strikes me as a woman who’d like to go to town once in awhile.”

  His hands tightened on the wheel. “What?”

  “She seems a bit out of place hidden in the wilds of Scotland.”

  Punching on the gas, he swerved onto the long, paved road leading from his property to the highway. “She chose to live here so she could get at my da.”

  “No, I don’t think that’s true.”

  The confidence in Doc’s voice shook his own. “How do ye know?”

  “As I said before, I did my own investigation on Ceri Olwen.”

  He didn’t want to know anything about her past. He only wanted to understand her current habits enough so she’d let him have sex with her. Puzzling over Doc’s suggestion that this was something more, only made his headache worse. “Don’t tell me.”

  “This isn’t like you, Skiff. To ignore facts.”

  “The fact is I’m going to the city to buy her something nice and to give her some time.” He swerved onto the highway and realized he was driving too fast. Which told him this conversation needed to end soon or he’d likely get in an accident. “What I’m not doing is caring why she lives here or buying a property so she can have fun in a city.”

  “Okay.”

  The easy concession made Lorne frown. He’d learned to become wary when Doc turned complacent. “I’m not buying property.”

  “You’ve said that.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Okay.”

  He breathed in through his nose. “I’m hanging up now.”

  “Talk to you soon.”

  Doc’s phone clicked off and the image of his friend’s smirk flashed into his mind. Lorne glared at the highway and stepped on the gas.

  He’d go to the city, buy something, and by tomorrow midday, he’d be back.

  Back to getting Ceri.

  Lorne Ross was leaving. With luggage.

  Ceri’s heart clanged inside her chest with joy. She told herself it was joy because she didn’t want to think it was anything else.

  Was he going for good?

  She peered through her cottage window to watch the Range Rover and its driver circle the parking lot before shooting off down the lane to the highway.

  Gone.

  Something jumped inside her that didn’t resemble joy at all, but she pushed it away and strode to the door. This morning, she’d hid. It was embarrassing to admit, yet she couldn’t deny what she’d done. She’d been afraid to go out into her garden on the chance he might come from his tower and flash his grin. And that she might be tempted again to do something stupid.

  The realization made her angry.

  This was her castle. Her garden. Will had left her this place, and she shouldn’t allow anyone or anything to keep her from what she owned. The anger mixed with her confusion from last night, turning the brew into a hot mess inside.

  She needed to get rid of him.

  Now.

  The morning air was crisp and cool, and any other time, she would have loved spending hours going through the flowers and hedges to make sure they were in shape. But Lorne Ross’s leaving had given her an entirely different agenda on how to spend her day.

  He might not be gone forever.

  She probably wasn’t that lucky.

  Still, luggage meant he’d be gone at least overnight and this gave her a chance.

  Tomorrow, the cleaners would come. Tomorrow, the barricades blocking off certain parts of the castle would be placed and the protective runners would be laid. Tomorrow, his bedroom would become part of Scottish history and not his personal hidey-hole.

  After that, day after tomorrow, the first tours would begin.

  Ceri marched toward the castle, determination in every step. This was a godsend. She would get him completely and utterly out of here.

  The MacIntyre truck trundled into the parking lot and in a flash, she had a marvelous idea.

  A rumble of guilt spilled through her determination, reminding her of who was paying the bill to fix the roof, but she pushed it aside. She couldn’t be held responsible for what he chose to do with his massive billions.

  “Hello,” she called to the two masons climbing out of their seats. Plastering on one of her sultry smiles, she walked toward them. “How are you today?”

  “Grand.” The taller one straightened and eyed her with appreciation.

  “How is the work coming?” She hadn’t paid attention to them during the last few days because she’d been too preoccupied with her obsession about a redhead who didn’t matter in the slightest. The smack of this further realization froze her will to get rid of him into a solid ice pick.

  “Going well.” The shorter of the two opened the truck’s sliding door and began to dig into their equipment.

  “I wonder if I could ask you to make another change on the roof?”

  “What kind of change?” The taller one smiled at her, typical male interest in his gaze.

  “Do you see that?” She pointed at the ghastly modern dish hanging off the tower.

  He glanced up. “Aye.”

  “The castle tours start day after tomorrow and we can’t have Castle Ross looking like a modern-day home.” She flashed him another glittering smile to ensure he paid attention.

  “I can see your point.” The other McIntyre man ambled to their side. “What about Ross, himself, though? Won’t he be wanting that kept on his castle?”

  “He’s gone.” She brushed the objection away with another smile. “He was only here for a little while. You know how the rich are, wasting money to put up something they only use for a couple of days.”

  The shorter man peered at her, clearly not convinced. “Ye have the power to make this decision?”

  Straightening her spine, she nodded. “I’m the owner. If you need paperwork to show this, I have it.”

  “Naw. We’ll not need that.” He pursed his lips and finally, gave her an answering nod.

  “Och. Well then.” Her admirer grinned. “We can take care of it for ye, if you’d like.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d take the dish down and put it over there.” She waved to the corner of the parking lot. “I’ll call the satellite company and have them pick it up later.”

  Once she’d smothered the men with a few more smiles and a few more words of praise, she paced to the castle door and put in her key.

  And got another grand idea.

  Slipping her mobile from her pocket, she made a call. To a locksmith.

  A sly grin slipped across her face as she opened the door and marched up to his bedroom. If and when Lorne Ross returned, he’d be entirely locked out of her castle.

  She stepped into his bedroom, her breath on hold. Then it whooshed out.

  He hadn’t left for good.

  Her heart did another tumble. She didn’t allow herself the time to analyze what kind of tumble this was, just as she hadn’t given herself a chance to examine the leap her heart had done earlier.

  His computer screens stood in a precise line along the back end of the modern desk he’d had installed. The fluorescent lights he’d chosen flickered on with one flip of her finger. The sheets and bedspread were smooth like a still lake of blue.

  Yet the armoire doors stood open, a pile of clothing lumped at the bottom and falling in a scramble to the floor.

  For a moment, worry shot through her.

  This wasn’t the Lorne Ross she thought she knew. A man who was logical and literal. A man who couldn’t abide a roof that wasn’t fixed. A man who’d wanted to scrutinize her eyes until he’d chosen the exact color.

  Wouldn’t that kind of man make sure everything he owned was impeccably taken care of?

  Had he driven off because of someone being sick? Or having an accident?

  Ceri stuffed her hands into her baggy jeans and lectured herself.

  It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

  This was her golden chance to seize control and drive him away.

&n
bsp; A booming knock on the front door drew her from the bedroom. Within a couple of minutes, the cleaning crew swarmed the interior. She helped pack the rest of his clothes into two cardboard boxes she’d pulled from the old dungeon. One of the crew knew how to get rid of the new lights, and he helpfully unplugged the computer and screens and dragged them down the stairs. By the time the sun danced along the edge of the western sky, there was a huge pile of Lorne Ross junk standing by the satellite dish on the far side of the parking lot.

  The door locks had been changed.

  The tartan runners were laid and the ropes positioned to protect the antiques.

  His room was no longer his. The castle was hers once more.

  If and when he returned, he’d find her in charge again. He might be angry in that cold, controlled way of his. He probably would be frosty and demanding. But he would be out of the castle and would have to find a room at the neighboring B&B. More likely, more to her liking, he might very well give the fight up and go back to London where he belonged.

  Leaving her with the final win.

  Chapter 17

  He’d bought a property.

  Bloody hell.

  Lorne rolled the steering wheel, weaving through the traffic on the outskirts of Edinburgh. Unlike yesterday’s sunny skies, today’s weather had turned into a typical Scottish mix of gusty winds and occasional spats of rain.

  His da would have called it a blirty type of day.

  A bittersweet tinge of emotion made him sigh.

  Maybe he’d bought the damn place because it had reminded him of how happy his da and mum were when they came to Edinburgh. How Will Ross had dreamed of buying in the city, yet had never felt he could when Castle Ross and the land needed the money more.

  Perhaps that was the reason. Or part of the reason.

  He sighed once more.

  Arriving midday yesterday, he’d followed the information Doc had texted him and found the boutique hotel near Drumsheugh Gardens with no problem. After his customary nap, which had gone a long way to banishing his headache, he’d hiked to Princes Street and then into the Old Town.