by Kira Archer
Her eyes soaked up shelf after shelf, many that looked like reference and non-fiction. Very old. Though there were quite a few shelves with newer books. A whole section of self helps, biographies, and more reference books on every topic imaginable.
“Any fiction?” she asked.
Harrison glanced up from his clipboard and pointed to the section of the library that was separated from the part they were in by a wide arch. “The fiction room is over there.”
“I don’t want to make you jealous or anything, but I think I’m in love,” she said, heading through a wide archway to the next room.
He laughed quietly and shook his head, turning back to his notes.
“Hey, do you have the Out—”
Harrison held up a finger with a scowl, and she laughed. “Do you have The Series That Must Not Be Named here?”
The scowl deepened. “Of course. I appear to be the only one on the planet not enamored of that damn series.”
She nodded. “I’d have to agree with that.”
She went back to perusing the shelves until she came to one of the rolling ladders that leaned against the bookcases.
“Oh my God, I’ve always wanted to do this.” She backed up a little to give herself some running room to build up momentum.
“Wait,” Harrison called out, but she’d already let her feet fly.
She ran for the ladder, jumped on, and flung her arm out, just like Belle in the book shop. It was incredible. Amazing. She’d dreamt of zooming along wall-to-wall bookcases her whole life and now she was doing it. In a castle! In England! Her heart was probably in imminent danger of bursting from happiness.
Until the ladder came to the end of the case. And didn’t stop.
The ladder’s wheels hit the end of the railing, and the worn-out wood gave way, lurching the ladder off the rails and sending her flying. She landed on the stone floor with a thud that knocked the wind out of her.
She curled around her stomach, mouth open as she tried desperately to suck in some air. Harrison dropped to his knees by her side.
“Easy now, easy,” he said, gathering her up.
She grabbed his shirt, eyes wide as her tortured lungs burned.
He cupped her face. “You’re okay. You’ve just lost your wind. Breathe now. Just breathe.”
He kept speaking calmly, gently stroking her face until the vice-like grip on her diaphragm eased and her body remembered how to breathe. She sucked in a strangled breath and the tightness in his face melted into relief.
He held her closer, pulling her fully onto his lap and kissing her forehead. His face radiated relief as she pulled in breath after breath until it finally stopped sounding like she was gasping for air.
“You might want to add that to your list,” she choked out.
He laughed and helped her to her feet, though he kept his arms around her. “Noted.”
She took her time fully regaining her composure, enjoying being in his arms. Enjoying it too much. She stepped back from him, running her hand through her hair. “You know,” she said, “this place is gorgeous, but it’s a total death trap.”
“Agreed. Hence the list,” he said, pointing to her phone. “Speaking of, if you are feeling better, you can use that computer there.” He indicated a decent-looking computer system set up on a desk in the corner.
She nodded and headed over to get their list printed and ready to go while Harrison made some phone calls. By the time she finished, he was hanging up.
“We need to talk to Bob. He’s the foreman of the builders who are working on the stonework outside.”
“Bob?”
“Yes.”
“Bob and his builders?”
Harrison frowned a little. “Yes.”
She opened her mouth to explain why she found that funny as apparently he’d never seen the children’s television show of the same name, but closed it again. Not worth the time it would take. “Never mind.”
His frown deepened, but he didn’t push the point. “Bob’s wife said he’s down at the pub. Ready for your first foray into the village?”
She nearly gasped in excitement. “Absolutely!”
She checked her phone to make sure she had enough battery power to take the dozens of pictures she’d want of a real English village and headed out the door, leaving him to follow.
“Let’s go!”
…
Harrison pushed open the door to the pub and held it for Nikki. Her heart fluttered with delighted excitement to finally be seeing something authentically British, at least in her mind. After all, she’d never been in a British pub before, especially not one in a quaint little village that had been around since before America had even been a twinkle in Britain’s colonial eye.
The little bell over the door tinkled, and it was like someone had set off an alarm. Every person in the place stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at them. Harrison looked around, his forehead furrowed, but he nodded at the bartender behind the bar.
“Gerry,” he said.
The bartender—Gerry supposedly—nodded back. “Mr. Troy.”
Harrison walked by him, and Nikki trailed behind as he went over to a group sitting at the far table who she supposed were Bob and his builders, something that still made her snicker. He nodded to each of them and began to explain what he needed and negotiating price. She, in the meantime, stood to the side staring at her surroundings and soaking everything in—until she noticed a particular group at one table staring at her with open mouths.
She smiled at them. “Hello.”
“And who might you be, dearie?” one of the old man said.
“Nicole Franklin. I’m Mr. Troy’s new assistant.”
At that, the entire place erupted. “He’s got a new one, Gerry!” one of the men said.
Nicole nearly jumped and stood back in surprise at the sudden flurry of activity. The bartender pulled out a chalkboard and set it up against the wall while money started busily exchanging hands. She looked at Harrison, eyes wide. He glanced at everybody with a scowl, but for the most part ignored whatever was going on.
“Alright then,” she muttered.
People started calling out names and dates while Gerry scribbled everything down.
“Excuse me,” Nikki said to the table closest to her. “What’s going on?”
One of the men turned to her with a huge grin. “You just won me fifty quid, dear.”
“And how did I do that?”
One of the old women sitting there giggled. “Mr. Troy has a terrible time keeping assistants.”
“The first one…when was that Geoff? Four years ago?”
“Oh yeah, it must be by now.”
“Anyway,” the woman said, “the first one only lasted three days before she cut and ran. The one who replaced her didn’t make it until tea time. And then the next year there was a brand-new assistant. Jeremiah, I believe his name was. He managed a week. Last year, the assistant really had us running for our money. She lasted six weeks. We thought she might be back this year, but now that you’re here those of us who had bet on her not returning just won a tidy sum.”
Nicole blinked at them, trying to process it all. “You guys have a pool betting on how long Mr. Troy’s assistants will last?”
The whole table laughed. “Oh, sure thing, dearie. It’s turned into an annual tradition. It’s the talk of the town.”
“And why haven’t Mr. Troy’s assistants lasted long?” Nikki asked, a ball of concern growing in her gut.
The woman leaned closer like she was going to tell her a secret. “Well, you’ve met his family now, I suppose. They are an odd bunch up there, that’s for certain. And Mr. Troy is known to be a taskmaster, for all that he’s fine to look at.” The old woman glanced back at him and giggled again.
“Most of his assistants can’t seem to handle the lot of them for too long,” another man added in.
Nicole looked over her shoulder at the board that Gerry was filling out. “So now you
all are betting on how long I will last?” she asked.
“Yep,” the old lady said. “And you look like a strong young lady with a good head on her shoulders. Put me down for seven weeks, Gerry!” she called out.
Nicole shook her head. She should have asked for more money.
Gerry held up a brimming glass of beer and put it down on the counter. “On the house, miss.”
Well, she wasn’t going to turn down that offer. She picked it up with a nod of thanks and took a sip, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “I’d always heard you guys drink beer warm over here. I mean, it’s not as ice cold as I’m used to, but it’s definitely not warm.”
Gerry snorted. “Never met a person who liked warm beer. Though if it’s too cold it ruins the flavor.”
“True. This is wonderful, thank you.”
Gerry nodded and went back to cleaning glasses. Nikki jerked her head toward a stained and tattered Help Wanted sign in the window.
“Are you actually looking for help, or is that for decoration? Looks like it’s been there a while.”
Gerry snorted again. “Most people around these parts would rather drink the beer than serve it.”
“Well, if you’re still looking when Mr. Troy no longer needs me, would you be willing to hire a recent immigrant from the States? I mean, I still need to get all the proper paperwork, and I’ll be with Mr. Troy at least until the end of the summer…despite what some may believe,” she said, nodding at the pool board behind him.
He gave her a speculative look. “Know your way around a bar, do you?”
“Absolutely. I worked as a bartender for three years in New York. If I can handle those crowds, I think I can handle this lot.” She jerked her thumb toward the current clientele, who were all still watching her like a pack of cats who just heard the can opener.
Gerry laughed. “Don’t speak too soon.” He studied her for a moment longer before nodding his head. “All right. You’ve got a job when you’re done over at the castle. And don’t worry about the paperwork. My brother’s wife’s sister works for immigration. I can help you get all that together.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much!” She stuck her hand out, and he shook it, looking more than a little amused.
Before she could say anything else, Harrison returned. He put a protective hand on the small of her back and glowered at the people at the table. “Everything all right?” he asked Nikki.
“Perfect,” she said, giving him a smile that was probably overly bright.
The woman watched them with a speculative gleam in her eye. “Gerry, change me to eight weeks,” she said, giving Nikki a wink.
Harrison frowned but Nikki shook her head. “I just got a job.”
His frowned deepened. “I was under the impression you already had a job.”
She rolled her eyes. “I mean for after we’re done. You only hired me to be your temporary assistant. So when you no longer require my services, I’m going to work for Gerry here.”
Harrison glanced at Gerry who gave him a slightly nervous nod.
“You’re planning on staying here? In the village?” Harrison asked.
Nikki shrugged. “Might as well. I can save up some money, get my immigration papers going, maybe travel a bit on my days off and see Europe. I’ve got to start somewhere. And I’m not going back home.”
His expression didn’t improve, and she couldn’t tell if he was angry or confused. Either way, she wasn’t going to let him piss in her Cheerios. She’d just landed a solid job offer. She was well on her way to an exciting, new European life. One which might afford her the opportunity to see Harrison again since his family lived right there, though she really hated admitting that that thought had occurred to her when she’d asked about the job. Either way, she was thrilled, so Mr. Grouchy Ass could be as pouty as he wanted.
“Come on,” she said, taking a last pull of her beer. “Thanks, Gerry!” she said with a wave goodbye.
She squinted at the bright sun once they were back outside and turned to Harrison, who still hadn’t spoken. “Get everything squared away with the builders?” she asked.
His scowl deepened. “Yes. For twice what they should be getting paid.” He sighed. “As long as they get it done on time.” He glanced back at the pub. “What was all that about?”
“I told you. Gerry offered me a job…”
“Not that,” he said, flicking his hand impatiently. “The other stuff. The chalkboard.”
“Oh, that. Did you know that the villagers have a running pool going to see how long your assistants will last?”
His eyes widened in surprise for a moment before the scowl returned. “You’d think they’d have better things to do with their day. My luck with assistants hasn’t been that bad.”
Nikki raised an eyebrow, and Harrison’s lips twitched. “Okay, maybe it has. But it certainly isn’t any of their business.”
“Oh, cut them a little slack. I won someone fifty quid today just by showing up. Makes a girl feel good to help someone out.”
Harrison snorted and handed her a list. “Then I’m about to make you feel amazing.”
Nikki’s eyebrow quirked up again. “Oh, really?”
Harrison rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant.”
She sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. I do. You really should learn to have a little fun, you know. I am your fiancée after all.”
He grimaced at that. “Only pretend. And only around my family.”
She suppressed a grimace of her own at that nice ego blow that she tried to deflect as she was pretty sure it had more to do with the situation than her. She hoped, anyway. Not that it mattered. The last thing in the world she needed was to be attached to another guy. It was time to learn to be on her own. Besides, she barely knew this particular guy, and what she did know wasn’t exactly great. Except for the whole castle part. Although that was more a pile of crumbling stones than a fairy tale. And the fact that he was drop dead, panty-soaking gorgeous. And could kiss like it was an Olympic event.
“I have plenty of fun. Just not here,” he said, glaring around at the village.
Nikki shook her head. “You are the only person I know who would have a vendetta against an entire village simply for existing.”
He snorted again. “Wait awhile. You’ve only just arrived. In the meantime, assistant,” he said, handing her their ever-growing list, “you can assist me. The soft opening is next week. And we aren’t even close to being ready.”
If that wasn’t the understatement of the year, she didn’t know what was.
Chapter Eight
Harrison stood on the steps of his castle, the cool summer breeze blowing right up his kilt. God, he hated wearing the thing. But this soft opening was supposed to be a dress rehearsal in every way. He wanted to make sure that the real deal would go down without a hitch. And that included dressing like everyone’s fantasy lover from that damned fucking book.
His eyes flicked over to Nikki as the words fantasy lover ricocheted around in his head. Try as he might, he could not get the woman out of his head. It was like a baby duck imprinting on the first thing it saw coming out of its shell. Only instead of a cute baby bird, he was a horny adult male who’d imprinted on the first woman to well and truly rock his world with a single kiss. All he could think about was how much he wanted to do that again. And much, much more.
She finished texting whoever she’d been chatting with and checked a few things off on the clipboard that had become an extension of her arm and nodded at him.
“We should be good to go. The workmen have the cosmetic work done on the outside of the walls. The inside work is shored up and can be completed in the off season. Guests shouldn’t be wandering around in that wing anyway. They’ll have their scaffolding cleared out by the end of the day. And everything else should be taken care of.”
Gorgeous, sexy, smart as a whip, and efficient to boot. If she wasn’t as crazy as his dear old granny, and bound and determined to stay on t
he wrong side of the Atlantic, she might be the perfect woman.
He nodded at her but didn’t say anything. She nudged him with her shoulder. “It’ll go off without a hitch. Don’t be nervous.”
He squared his shoulders. “I’m never nervous.”
“Really?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. “I would be. I mean, you’re banking the survival of your family’s company on this new hotel venture going well, aren’t you? That would scare the hell out of me.”
He glanced down at her, his own eyebrow rising. “Thanks for that. Now, I’m nervous.”
Instead of apologizing, she grinned up at him. “Good to know you can feel a human emotion from time to time.”
He narrowed his eyes against the urge to roll them and went back to watching the lane leading up to the castle. Cole had texted him when they’d reached the property. The cars containing his friends would be pulling up at any moment.
She leaned in a bit closer. “I really do think this will go well,” she said, squeezing his arm. “We’ve gone over everything. Twice.”
“My family?”
“Have promised to be on their best behavior and to stay out of the way as much as possible. Really, there is no reason guests should ever come into contact with them.”
He snorted. “What should happen and what does happen are two entirely different things. Especially when it comes to my family.”
She grinned. “Yeah, they’re a hoot all right. I think you should let them wander at will. Go out of their way to interact with the guests. They all volunteered to dress the part. It could make a whole immersion experience for the guests and let your family have some fun.”
“My family dressing as fictional characters and being told to have fun is a nightmare waiting to happen.”
She sighed and shook her head. “Spoilsport.”
His lips twitched at that, and she smiled up at him again. The brilliance of her expression took his breath away for a second, and he tore his gaze away from her to focus on the road where the cars should be appearing.
“In all seriousness,” she said, “don’t worry. If there are any remaining kinks, we’ll get them worked out.”