Ironic. The real problem was that he couldn’t protect both Kristin and Rhiannon. At some point, Kristin would ask more questions about Rhiannon, and then something would have to give. Between the two women, Kristin was the stronger, and Rhiannon was by far the more vulnerable. His sister had rarely left their parents’ property in twenty-some years. He could tell Kristin why, of course, but...
He wanted to. He wanted to be able to trust her completely.
That was the crux of the matter: how could he trust someone who might just up and fly out of their lives at any minute?
Malcolm knew the only reason Kristin was still with him—he didn’t fool himself into thinking it was for his wit or his fine looks. No, it was for her Born in Vermont scheme.
When and if Kristin got the go-ahead from him, she would be gone from Scotland in a heartbeat. And he really was getting worried about himself—he was caring for her so rapidly that if she were inclined, she could use that power to charm him into a different recommendation toward Born in Vermont than was best for his family’s business.
He could not let that happen. It was time for him to make plans to push harder with her.
Malcolm tossed his wet towel on the tiled bathroom floor and quickly got dressed. First, he needed to scope out the situation with Born in Vermont and figure out a plan before his uncle caught wind of it. There were schemes of his own he was still working on, and once in the office today, he could hopefully finalize them and work out a resolution that would be best for all of them.
* * *
WHEN KRISTIN ARRIVED downstairs in the castle breakfast room, Rhiannon was sitting with Paul in chairs facing the window. Both were sipping tea and watching a family of birds outside, though dawn had barely broken.
Rhiannon turned when she heard Kristin’s footsteps. “Good morning.” Rhiannon patted the chair beside her. “What would you like for breakfast, Kristy?”
“Just a quick bowl of cereal for me, please.” Kristin set her purse and her work notebook on the table beside Malcolm’s sister. Without asking, Paul reached over and poured her a cup of coffee and added a tiny bit of milk to the top. He had remembered her tastes perfectly. Wouldn’t she love to bring him back with her to Vermont when her trip was over?
Kristin poured some cornflakes into an empty bowl. “Would you like to drive with Malcolm and me to Edinburgh this morning?” she asked Rhiannon.
“No, thank you.” Rhiannon sipped from her tea and went back to gazing at the yellow finches outdoors.
Kristin waited, but Rhiannon didn’t add anything more.
“Your Uncle John is joining us for lunch,” Kristin remarked. “Why don’t you come with us to the office? It could be fun.”
“That sounds lovely,” Rhiannon murmured. “But no, thank you.”
Kristin drank her coffee, sighing happily as the much-needed caffeine seeped into her bloodstream. “Would you like me to pick you up anything in Edinburgh?”
Rhiannon shook her head. “I have a painting I want to finish today. My business manager is coming up from London tomorrow, and I’m making a final push before he arrives.”
“That sounds exciting.”
Rhiannon looked away from the window and smiled at Kristin. “Kristin, would you bring me back some photos from Edinburgh?” she asked. “I do love to see photos.”
“Of course.” Kristin nodded and dug into her cereal. She glanced up just as Malcolm strode into the room. Immediately, her heart drummed a bit faster.
He looked handsome, as always. Stern and serious, especially in his business clothes, but she was getting used to that in him. And when he saw her, his face brightened, and he broke out into that broad smile that just dazzled her.
She put down her spoon. Her hand unconsciously fluttered to her chest.
Malcolm winked covertly at her, but he bent over and kissed Rhiannon on the cheek. “Good morning, ladies.” He waved away Paul’s offer of breakfast, and instead, grabbed a pastry and filled a ceramic travel mug with black coffee.
“Are you ready, Kristin?” he asked, in that deep Scottish burr that always seemed to echo so deeply in her bones.
Her head dropped back, and she gazed into his eyes, sparkling more than they had a right to so early in the morning.
“I’m ready,” she squeaked.
His knowing stare tugged at something inside her. He was freshly shaven, and a damp lock of hair fell over his brow. “Let’s go, then. If we’re to beat Edinburgh rush-hour traffic, then we’re late already.”
“Of course.” She stood abruptly, reaching for her things. When she glanced back, she caught Rhiannon observing them, a secret smile on her face.
“Go on ahead,” Kristin said to Malcolm. He had tucked the pastry in his mouth as he used one hand to rummage through a board on the wall containing hooks that held sets of keys. His other hand gripped the mug of coffee. “I’ll be right behind you in a moment,” she said to him.
She turned to Rhiannon and whispered, “Will you be okay here today?” There was something about Rhiannon that drew Kristin into wanting to befriend her. In the two days she’d known Malcolm’s sister, Kristin had sensed a gentleness and serenity in her that was greatly appealing.
“Oh, yes,” Rhiannon murmured. “As long as the rain holds off, I’ll do some walking, then I’ll shower and settle in to paint.”
That sounded like heaven, actually. Kristin sifted through her purse and pulled out a small plastic bottle. “This is shampoo that a lady from home made for me. If you decide to try it, I’m interested in hearing what you think. But don’t tell Malcolm, because he thinks I’m trying to talk him into doing something that he doesn’t want to do. And that’s not my intent at all.”
With a questioning look, Rhiannon opened the bottle and held it to her nose. A smile came over her face. “It’s lovely.”
Kristin nodded. “A dear friend of mine formulated it. It’s all organic and hypoallergenic. Oh, and here—there’s a conditioner that goes with it, too.”
“Your friend is very talented.”
“I know. She was. She passed away last autumn. I miss her so much.”
“I’m sorry.” Rhiannon’s eyes, so like Malcolm’s, gazed hauntingly at Kristin. “Are you asking Malcolm to invest in her company? Is that why you’re here?”
“No,” Kristin said firmly. “But I am asking him for his help in figuring out a way to keep my hometown plant open. That’s what our mission today is, actually.”
“And then you’ll return home once everything is settled?”
“Yes, I suppose that’s the plan. I live in Vermont, after all—it’s my home.” Kristin looked out at the birds. “Like this is your home.”
“Of course.” Rhiannon nodded. “I understand.”
But Rhiannon’s gaze followed Kristin as she waved at her and then dashed outside toward the driveway.
A damp, bone-chilling wind curled around her, and Kristin pulled the cashmere McGunnert shawl tighter around the shoulders and collar of her coat.
She didn’t know why she’d just shared that confession with Rhiannon back in the house, except, somehow, she didn’t want to lie to Rhiannon, or for her to get the wrong impression of Kristin’s motivations with her brother. Besides, she’d promised Malcolm she’d be clear with his sister. She would not mislead her, or him.
And lately, Malcolm had been making it easier for Kristin to trust his intentions, too....
A gleaming silver sedan pulled up before her, the tires crunching over the gravel. Kristin jerked awake. This vehicle was much nicer than her rental, which Malcolm had wanted to have returned to Edinburgh, but she wasn’t willing to give up her wheels—though she definitely wouldn’t argue about riding in this car today. The engine idling, Malcolm leaned over and opened the door for her.
She jumped in, feeling bubbly and
excited. She loved long drives. She had high hopes for their meeting with Malcolm’s uncle and was anxious to discover if Sage owned the rights to Born in Vermont. If they did, that meant more time with Malcolm. More time to come up with a presentation to convince his uncle that the new venture was worthwhile for Sage.
The car smelled new. It was beautiful inside, spacious and roomy with leather seats and a polished wood dashboard. Her bottom felt warm, and she realized there was an electric seat warmer. She sighed, and sank deeper into the comfort.
“This is more like it,” Malcolm said. “Are you ready to road-trip in style?”
“Aye,” she agreed. “Floor it, driver.”
* * *
THE DRIVE FROM Inverness to Edinburgh went relatively quickly—nothing like Friday’s slow crawl through mountains and narrow, twisting lanes. In comparison to what Kristin was used to, this journey felt similar to the scenic ride from rural mountains in New Hampshire down to a sparkling, flatlander city on the coast. Portsmouth, say, or maybe even Boston.
She made the mistake of mentioning that to Malcolm.
“So,” he said, as they waited at a roundabout’s traffic light inside the Edinburgh city limits, “you do take trips away from home? You’re not a recluse to your hometown?”
“Of course not,” she said, wondering if she should feel insulted. “Why would you say that?”
He gave her a lazy grin, one hand on the top of the steering wheel, his thumb tapping to music on the satellite radio. “No reason.”
“Do you think I’m like Rhiannon that way?”
A frown crossed his handsome face. “No.” He glanced at her. “I was just noticing that your world in Vermont is safe for you. And yet, you crave adventure. It oozes from you. You can’t hide it.”
She laughed. “Maybe so, but...” She watched a white seabird fly past. Like a New Hampshire seagull, but smaller. “Well, maybe I am having a good time here despite everything else,” she mused.
“That’s good.” The grin split his face. “Kristy, I would love to spend the morning with you—I would even invite you into the office with me, but it’s illegal for me to break the nondisclosures. I know you want to be there, but...can you understand, and trust me with this step in the process?”
“Trust you?” she repeated dumbly.
“I need to meet with our lawyers first, but when I called them this morning, they reminded me that it’s confidential. No one from outside the original agreements can be there while we review the contracts. I’m sorry, but I’ll have more news for you at lunch.”
“But didn’t your uncle say that I should meet with you today?”
“He did. But he wants me to look into this first. And I will invite him to lunch with us.”
Disappointment settling over her, she tried to think it through. What Malcolm said did have merit. “All right,” she said grudgingly. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. But I warn you, I’d better meet you and your uncle at noon.”
“You will.” He gave her a relieved smile. “Until then I’ll drop you off as close to Edinburgh Castle as I can get. Then we’ll meet at lunch.” He leaned over and opened the glove box, pulling out a cell phone. “I almost forgot. I got this for you. My number is programmed inside, as is my parents’ number.”
She took it from him, their fingers brushing, and held it to her heart, genuinely touched.
“Thank you, Malcolm.” Maybe she could trust him to give Born in Vermont a fair consideration without her there to observe. “And thank you for looking into the Born in Vermont legalities for me. I do appreciate it.”
His sad smile stayed with her. “I’ll do what I can for you, Kristy. And you’ll promise to keep an open mind with me. Aye?”
“Aye,” she whispered.
The tenderness of his endearment for her stayed with Kristin for the next three hours. Three hours of a sunny, blue-sky morning at Edinburgh Castle, the great stone fortress on the rock that towered over the city.
Built on top of an extinct volcano, Kristin learned, the castle was filled with history. She spent the morning climbing battlements, peering inside chapels, visiting Queen Mary’s bedroom and gawking at the crown jewels of Scotland.
But at the appointed time she was more than ready to meet Malcolm. She headed down the cobblestone, pedestrian-only street on the hillside—the famous Royal Mile—and into the doors of the pub that Malcolm had chosen for their lunch meeting.
He’d arrived before she did, and when she walked past the traditional brass bar with mirrors and stools inside the bustling, wood-paneled restaurant, Malcolm was already there. He immediately saw her, and he stood and waved her over.
With a calm expression, he passed her a luncheon menu. “How was your morning, Kristy?” He took her coat from her and hung it on a hook.
Her heart pounding, she ran her hand through her hair, raking the tangles she’d gotten from rushing along the windy streets to meet him on time.
“Edinburgh was great,” she gushed. “I haven’t had a vacation day like this in... I don’t remember how long.”
She took a breath. “But that’s not the big reason we’re here, is it?” She peered at Malcolm, trying to gauge how the morning had gone, but couldn’t tell from his expression if it had been favorable for her or not. “Tell me, because I’m on pins and needles. What happened with the lawyers?” She glanced around. “And where is your uncle? I thought he was meeting us.”
Malcolm cleared his throat. “Well, we spent the early part of the morning meeting with our lawyers, attempting to gain an understanding of the contract terms regarding any new brands not covered under the original agreement.”
“And?”
He tapped on the plastic menu, idly curling the corner of it with his finger. “And they’re still looking into it.”
Oh, no. Malcolm looked stern, not at all happy. She leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, but my uncle wants to fully understand the scope of this new development,” he continued carefully. “He instructed that he doesn’t want to let the Born in Vermont brand go back to Astley for nothing, if it turns out that we own it. My uncle might even prefer that we develop the product line ourselves. Either way, he requested to see more detailed financials from me on the projected numbers.”
“That’s...good news,” she said. “Right?”
Malcolm’s expression was carefully bland—she would hate to be on the other side of a negotiation with Malcolm. He had a great poker face.
“It’ll take some work on my part,” he said. “But essentially that’s why he declined to attend lunch with us today—there are still too many unknowns with the proposal, and he wants us to work them out together first.”
He paused, frowning. “Bottom line, can you stay a few days longer? I know you joked about it earlier, but it’s serious now. He really does want to see something on Friday from us.”
Her heart sped up. “He asked for a presentation?” This was great news. “Absolutely! You know that I can.”
He nodded. “I can work from home—my family castle, that is. No need to travel to the office again.”
“So...do you think I should stay at the castle, too?”
“Yes, you can stay at my parents’ castle with me. And Rhiannon likes you, so it will be nice for her,” he said finally.
Kristin couldn’t tell for sure, but he seemed conflicted over that statement.
Malcolm reached for the seat beside him and, gazing down at it, carefully took an envelope he’d lain there, and then placed it on the polished wooden table before her.
For a moment there was silence between them until Kristin recognized the envelope. “That’s...the copy of the report I gave your uncle last Friday.”
Malcolm’s lips were pressed together.
“Oh. You di
dn’t know I’d given it to him, too.... I meant to tell you,” she said. “Honestly, in the excitement, I just plain forgot.”
He nodded tersely. “That’s what I’d hoped, when my uncle showed it to me.”
“Did that...cause problems for you?”
He took in a breath, as if hesitating to say so. Finally, he gazed into her eyes. She saw hurt there.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“I didn’t say anything, Kristy. You don’t know what you’re sorry for.”
“I can guess, though. I work in a corporation, too, Malcolm. Or at least, I used to.” She ran her fingers along the edge of the binder. “My guess is that my report made you look bad. Like you weren’t on top of the Aura integration the way that your uncle expects you to be.”
He leaned back in his chair. He genuinely looked stunned.
“Am I right?” she asked.
He smiled slightly. “Yes.”
“Why are you so surprised?”
“You.” He shook his head, the grin spreading over his face. “You know more about business relations than you give yourself credit for. You constantly amaze me.”
The person behind Malcolm attempted to scrape his chair back, and Malcolm had to stand so the man could exit. While Malcolm was standing, Kristin took the advantage to impulsively jump to her feet and bracket his head in her hands.
She firmly kissed him on the mouth.
His hands rested at her waist. “What was that for?” he murmured against her ear.
“You,” she whispered, leaning her cheek against his scratchy cheek. “This is what I think about you.”
And then she turned her head and kissed him again. He slashed his mouth over hers and kissed her more deeply. His fingers fanned across her lower back, and she felt sweet warmth spread through her. She sighed audibly and snuggled her hips closer to his body.
His tongue lightly swept the seam of her lips, a delicious invitation, and she opened her mouth to his, letting her tongue mingle with his. It felt amazing, even though she was fully aware that she was making out with him in public.
The Sweetest Hours (Harlequin Superromance) Page 19