Draycott Eternal

by Christina Skye

  “You did?”

  “Absolutely. Now there’s no way I’m going to be separated from you, even for a second. Not until we’re married.”

  “Married?” Jamee repeated weakly. The same warm security was enfolding her, making it impossible to think clearly.

  “Of course that’s what I mean. If you’ll have me.”

  Jamee swallowed. “Married. You and me?”

  “You know the word,” Ian said, with a self-effacing grin. “That thing two people do with a minister and lots of white rice.”

  Jamee managed a laugh. He couldn’t really be saying this to her, could he? She couldn’t allow herself to believe him, not when she wanted to so badly. “To me, lots of white rice means a meal in Chinatown.”

  Ian cupped her cheek, his eyes suddenly intent. “How unromantic of you. I can see I’m going to have to change all that.” He turned to Duncan. “I hope you’ve left the Blue Bedroom free for us.”

  “Er…it’s all yours,” Duncan said, sounding startled.

  Jamee blinked. The depth of his feelings? Why was Ian talking like this, mentioning a shared bedroom in front of all these strangers?

  And then the world narrowed to the span of Ian’s shoulders and the hot sweep of his mouth. His hand opened, stroking the small of her back and pulling her closer.

  “Kiss me,” he whispered hoarsely.

  At any other time Jamee would have stiffened. She wasn’t used to being on display before so many curious strangers. But desire hummed through her blood, driven by every touch of Ian’s mouth. “Now?” she whispered. “Here?” When Jamee saw the hunger in Ian’s eyes all her doubts fled. She parted her lips and kissed him, sliding her hands deep into his hair. Dimly she heard him groan as she eased her tongue sleekly over his.

  Heat shimmered. Suddenly Jamee didn’t care who was watching.

  When Ian lifted his head, his breath came heavy and his face was as flushed as hers. “Sorry,” he muttered to the fascinated bystanders. “I just can’t seem to keep my hands off her.”

  “So when is the ceremony?” the model named Tania demanded icily. “The sooner the better, by the look of you two.”

  “Just as soon as Duncan can arrange it,” Ian answered calmly.

  “Gee, were you two caught in that fire we saw?” another of the models asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” Ian answered. “We must have generated even more heat than we realized.”

  Jamee barely heard the ripple of laughter. Ian was too calm, too cool about all this. Suddenly warning lights went off in her head.

  “Where will the ceremony be held?” Hidoshi asked eagerly. “Can I take some photos? They’d be great for the magazine. Hey, wait a minute. We’ve got this amazing Victorian wedding gown and veil upstairs. Maybe Jamee could wear it for our shoot.”

  Jamee stiffened, overwhelmed by the curious stares. The bodies seemed to press closer. Tania’s gaze followed her. “I—I don’t know.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Ian said. “We’ll discuss it later.”

  “How many children are you planning to have, Lord Glenlyle?” Tania called. “An even dozen?”

  “A dozen sounds wonderful to me,” Ian answered, guiding Jamee to the staircase. He frowned as she stiffened. He bent his head, whispering. “Don’t look so worried, Jamee. This will be the shortest engagement in Dunraven’s history. I’m sorry it happened like this, but I wouldn’t dream of holding you to any promises,” he murmured.

  Holding her to any promises? Jamee’s heart lurched. So it was all part of his job, a perfect excuse to stay close and protect her. Nothing more.

  She swayed slightly, rocked by disappointment. Stupid, she told herself. But you’re not going to fall apart here, not in front of all these people.

  Especially not in front of that Tania creature.

  With a brittle smile she took Ian’s arm and began to walk toward the stairs. The marble steps seemed miles away, separated by a sea of curious faces. But she had her pride if nothing else, Jamee thought. She looked at Ian and smiled seductively. “More than a dozen children. Definitely more. Do you think you’ll be up to it, Lord Glenlyle?”

  A muscle flashed at Ian’s jaw as Jamee made a great display of planting a slow, hot kiss dead on his lips. “Maybe sooner than you think,” he said harshly.

  Disappointment filled Jamee. It was all an act, the clever stratagem of a man who was always one step ahead and perfectly in control. She took a slow breath, summoning anger to replace her regret. Anything so Ian wouldn’t see how much she had wanted to accept the offer he had so calmly dismissed.

  Her hand stayed on his arm as they climbed the stairs, but her smile was now as false as his proposal of marriage.

  Appropriate, Jamee thought bitterly.

  “I told you I don’t like deception, McCall.”

  “There was no other choice, Jamee. Don’t worry, this engagement is in name only. I won’t make the mistake of assuming it means anything more,” he said gravely.

  For a moment, the stairs blurred in front of Jamee. Then her chin rose. “That’s right, name only, McCall. Just remember that or I’ll show you the left hook Adam taught me when I was fifteen.”

  Ian’s hand tightened on her waist. “Maybe you just did. I didn’t know a woman could kiss a man like that.”

  “Eat your heart out, McCall.” Pride kept her walking. Pride kept her brittle smile in place. “There are probably a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

  Footfalls sounded behind them. “I’m sorry about Tania,” Kara said, frowning up at Jamee. “We had to take her at the last minute when one of the other girls came down with the flu.”

  “No problem,” Jamee said with a confidence she didn’t feel.

  “Ian, what you said…” Kara hesitated, looking from one to the other.

  “About the wedding?” Jamee gave a calm laugh. “Totally convincing, weren’t we? Not bad considering there wasn’t even time for a run-through.”

  Kara studied her uncertainly. “For a moment I thought—”

  “That we were serious?” Jamee gave a trill of laughter. “Sorry, it’s all business—right, Ian? It wouldn’t do to forget that. Not with…them somewhere about.”

  “Jamee, Duncan told me what happened,” Kara said quietly. “If there is anything we can do, you have only to ask.”

  Jamee nodded, seeing the genuine concern in Kara’s eyes. “Thank you, Kara, but I’ll be fine.” She glanced up at Ian. “After all, I’ve got a professional to guarantee it, don’t I?”

  “HE’S CHANGED.” Kara looked at the top of the stairs where Ian and Jamee had just disappeared.

  Her husband frowned. “He looks worn-out. Camping in that cottage with kidnappers on your back will do that to a person.” Duncan steered Kara the rest of the way up the staircase and along the corridor toward their private rooms, wincing as they passed a life-size reindeer wearing a long red stocking hat. “Hidoshi’s humor is hard to fathom sometimes.”

  “Nonsense,” Kara said briskly. “Rudolph will look perfect in the front hall. Hidoshi and Rob have done a wonderful job with the decorations.”

  The halls were draped with popcorn chains and wreaths of pine. A pair of Victorian angels in white damask glittered on a Regency highboy, next to a pair of silver candelabra.

  “I’m glad Angus finished the track for the steam train outside on the lawn.” Her husband gave a long-suffering sigh, for which Kara immediately punched him. “Angus and Hidoshi did a lovely job and you know it. Hidoshi’s assistant has been a godsend, too. We never could have managed all this without Rob.”

  “My only complaint is that I never get you alone anymore,” Duncan said gruffly.

  “Don’t try to change the subject. I don’t mean that Ian looked tired. It’s his eyes,” Kara said slowly. “They always used to be so hard, so controlled. Now they’re softer, more vulnerable. Do you think it’s because of Jamee?”

  Duncan shook his head. “You always see the best in people, Kara. That’s
why I love you.” He frowned. “But Ian’s a hard one to read and always has been. Growing up in that great wreck on the cliffs at Glenlyle would do that to any man. Even without…”

  “Without what?”

  Duncan rubbed his neck. “Nothing.”

  Kara’s eyebrow rose. “Duncan MacKinnon, do you actually believe you can keep a secret from me?”

  Duncan backed up and found the door to their suite just in time. “No you don’t, my love. No more using that Sight of yours.”

  His wife gave him a devilish smile and started after him. Three steps later Duncan toppled onto a pile of tartan blankets with his laughing wife right behind him. As her hands circled his waist, he smiled. “You win. I’ll talk.”

  “I always win,” Kara said smugly. “Now, tell me the rest.”

  “Later.” Duncan’s lips slid over hers. “First, I know a way that we’ll both win.”

  JAMEE SHOVED ASIDE the turquoise velvet curtains and stared down at the endless vista of water stretching below her window. Then she tossed down her jacket, kicked off her shoes and turned to Ian. “One bed? Where will you be sleeping?”

  Ian slid her bag onto a chair and closed the door. “On the sofa, of course.”

  “Of course,” Jamee repeated.

  “Do you want me to go now so you can get some rest?”

  She desperately wanted him to go.

  She desperately needed him to stay.

  “Whatever you want. You must have business to discuss with Duncan, after all.”

  “Business can wait,” Ian said. “You look pale, Jamee.”

  “Hey, it isn’t every day that a girl gets caught in a fire, sleeps in a Neolithic barrow and then gets handed a marriage proposal.” Amazingly, her voice was light. Jamee discovered that she could handle this role. Ian didn’t have to see the pain his words had caused her. “A little pallor fits the part.”

  “Does it?”

  Jamee looked away from his too-knowing eyes. “Sure. So what’s the game plan, Coach?”

  “I stay glued to you at the hip.”

  “Sounds uncomfortable,” Jamee murmured, moving to the adjoining bathroom. She turned on both faucets and tossed in a healthy amount of lilac bath salts from a bottle on the windowsill. “By the way, did you see where that gray cat went? He was gone when I woke up.”

  Ian shook his head. “That animal knows exactly what he’s doing. Probably headed home to a nice warm fire. And stop trying to change the subject.”

  “Who, me?”

  “Yes, you. I saw the look in your eyes downstairs, Jamee. I’m sorry I took you by surprise, but I didn’t want a lot of questions from people I can’t trust.”

  “You were just doing your job. I understand perfectly.” Jamee stirred the fragrant bubbles rising beneath the faucet.

  “What happened at the cottage—your feelings toward me—” Ian braced one shoulder against the door. “You’re coming to grips with it, aren’t you?”

  Not a snowball’s chance in hell, she thought. But she summoned a perfect smile. “Of course I am. You were right, Ian. My attraction to you was just a passing phase. I understand that now.”

  “That was fast,” he muttered. “You play havoc with a man’s ego.”

  “I’m sure you’ll survive. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to clean off what feels like an inch of soot.”

  “Not quite an inch.” Ian brushed her cheek gently. “Somehow it only makes you more beautiful.”

  Jamee stiffened at his touch. She couldn’t fall apart now. “No need for any performance here, McCall. We’re all alone, remember?”

  “Maybe being alone is the hard part,” Ian said. Then he turned. “I’ll be right outside. Call me if you need me.”

  “I think I can scrub my own back,” Jamee said tightly.

  “Too bad.”

  ALL BUSINESS, Jamee thought as the door closed behind Ian.

  All a perfect performance.

  She stepped out of her clothes and sank down into the hot, frothy water, wondering how she was going to keep up her painful charade. Ian was too sharp to miss the hurt in her eyes.

  So keep it buried, she thought. Keep the smile in place.

  And then what? She was still a target and that left Ian as point man for any attack. How could she bear to see him hurt?

  She stirred a mound of bubbles with one toe. She had seen the flash of heat in his eyes. She had felt his body tense when she’d kissed him. That meant he was telling the truth. He did feel some physical attraction for her.

  An idea crept into her mind. A wild idea.

  Ian was a man of honor. A man of control.

  Maybe there was another way to handle this whole business.

  She eased back down into the bubbles. “Ian?” she called.

  The door jerked open. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. It’s just—” Jamee drew a quick breath. “I decided I could use some help with my back after all.”

  His eyes narrowed. He took in every inch of her, from neck to toe—including the parts hidden under water. “Really.”

  Jamee nodded, all innocence. “Just between my shoulders. I thought you could help.”

  Ian didn’t move. “Let’s get this straight, Jamee. You’re my job now, like it or not. I was paid to keep you safe and that’s what I’m going to do. I’m sorry I had to lie. I’m sorry I caught you off guard. But I’ll lie again if I have to because all that counts now is your safety.”

  He meant it, Jamee realized. Passion and lust wouldn’t sway him. This could be harder than she’d thought.

  “I understand, even though I don’t like it. I’m in danger and you’re going to keep me safe. What’s not to understand?” She gave a delicate shrug and pointed to her back, which was hidden in bubbles. “Now that that’s settled, how about some help? Right over here.”

  Ian’s jaw flexed. Jamee saw a mask close over his face. “I think you’d better handle it yourself.”

  “I’m afraid there’s one tiny little problem with that,” she said, easing her calf from the water and angling it over the edge of the tub.

  White foam clung lovingly to the sleek curve of her leg. All the while, Ian’s eyes remained locked on her face. “And what’s that?”

  Jamee reached for the towel draped over a nearby chair. With every movement she dared him to watch. “If I rely on you, I rely on you for everything. Fair is fair, isn’t it?” Slowly, she stood up, every inch of her body outlined in bubbles.

  Ian swallowed. He averted his gaze as water sloshed gently and bubbles streaked her bare, wet skin.

  His mouth tightened. “Don’t do this, Jamee. Don’t make it harder.”

  “Oh, there’s nothing hard about it. We’re glued at the hip, remember? Just business.”

  “What do you want from me, Jamee?”

  The question brought her up short. Want? She wanted not to want him. She wanted not to feel a blinding wave of relief wash over her whenever he was nearby.

  She wanted not to care.

  Jamee glared at the exquisite damask walls and realized that her hands were shaking. She admitted the truth to herself then. She wanted the laughter and the camaraderie they had shared at the cottage.

  She wanted Ian’s rakish smile.

  His gruff laugh.

  His touch that made her pulse quicken with instant yearning. Jamee wanted those things very badly.

  But it was business now, and at any second, Ian could be hurt because he was protecting her.

  “I want you to quit. I want you replaced. Today.”

  “Forget it,” he said flatly. “I don’t back out of a promise, Jamee. Not ever.”

  BROAD SHOULDERS. Powerful back. Lean hips outlined beneath a towel draped low and sinfully tight.

  It was ten minutes later and Ian stood before the mirror, fresh from the shower.

  Jamee eased open the door, propped a silk-covered arm against the wall and drank in the sight of him. Water gleamed on his arms, outlining full muscles. He swung aro
und, frowning. “What do you want?”

  “To get something straight,” she purred. “I’ll go along with your masquerade, Ian. I’ll follow your leads and I’ll take your cues because it’s for my safety.” She tilted her head and glared at him. “Understood?”

  “Understood.” Ian’s eyes narrowed, full of wariness.

  “But only until someone can be sent from London to replace you.” Jamee smiled with icy calm.

  “I’m not going to request it, Jamee.”

  “No? I think you will. Because there’s one more thing.” She stepped closer, caught Ian’s face between her hands and pulled him down to her. Her lips opened, warm and searching, while her tongue tantalized his. Jamee put a lifetime of hunger into the kiss, an eternity of dreams. She had to make him back down somehow. He was a professional and a man of honor. He wouldn’t allow his personal feelings to compromise his client’s safety.

  He stiffened, then his damp palms slid over her back. His desire was instant and unmistakable through the towel.

  But he didn’t hold her, not even then. “It won’t work.”

  Jamee tried to ignore her own racing pulse. “Yes, it will. Your honor won’t allow you to stay.”

  “I might surprise you.”

  “I don’t think so,” Jamee murmured. “And don’t bother to pretend it’s only business between us, McCall, because that wet towel tells us both that’s a lie.” As she pulled the door shut behind her, Jamee heard what sounded like three feet of wet cotton slapping against the tub. Then a brush cracked against the wall.

  She waited for the count of five. Unsettling him was her only tactic in this war she had begun. “By the way,” she called sweetly, “lunch will be served in twenty minutes. The towel is nice, but you might want to change. I suggest something a little less…revealing.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IAN PACED back and forth across Duncan’s study. He dug his fingers through his hair, scowling.

  Some operative he made. He couldn’t see Jamee’s laughing face without wanting her hands on him. He couldn’t watch her walk across a room without envisioning her body naked and restless while he made her blood sing.