by Anya Summers
Anxious to see Zoey, Lucy did her best to power walk past him, her long legs eating up the distance to the door at the end. She was fast, but when he spied her intent, the rat bastard sped up. Really, all this formality when she was here to rescue her best friend. She wondered if he would make it difficult when she attempted to smuggle Zoey out, willingly or not. They both reached the closed white door at the same time.
"Buster, look, I got this."
"It's Jared," he said through a rather fine set of white, even, gritted teeth as he gripped the silver handle.
"Whatever. I don't need an introduction to see my best friend." Lucy was done being nice to the Highlander.
At the sound of her voice, she heard Zoey screech from inside the room. She smiled and pushed past the dratted man as he opened the door. The sight that greeted her bowled her over. Her best friend, the sister of her heart, stood there and glowed with happiness. Zoey practically had sunshine and rainbows oozing out of her pores.
Fuck!
"Lucy!" Zoey exclaimed as she hurried toward her. She ignored the other woman seated at the desk and opened her arms.
"The one and only. I've got this, J-man," Lucy said to Jared with a flip of her red curls as she embraced Zoey in a tight hug.
"Its fine, Jared. Thank you," Zoey said to Jared over her shoulder. Lucy didn't miss the interplay between them when his gaze settled on Zoey. What the hell was going on around this place? Wasn't Zoey marrying Declan? Why the hell was the butler looking at her best friend like he wanted second helpings? Lucy feared she had barely made it in the nick of time.
Jared tipped his head, acknowledging Zoey with banked fires in his gaze that made Lucy want to yank her best friend back to reality and figure out what needed to be fixed. "I will tell Mrs. Stewart to add another setting to dinner tonight and have Sherry ready the Queen Mary room, unless our latest guest has other accommodations in mind, lass?"
"The Queen Mary will be perfect, Jared. Thank you," Zoey murmured with obvious affection in her voice.
This was so not good. Zoey's voice was soft and gentle. She looked freaking amazing, better than she had in a long time, and it made Lucy worry that she was already too late. There was much more information that her best friend had left out with the security of five thousand miles between them. Lucy would get to the bottom of what had been going on here eventually. She could only hope that Zoey would see reason.
Jared bowed his head slightly towards Zoey and then he vacated the room, shutting the door behind him.
"What are you doing here, Lucy? I can't believe you're here?" Zoey said, giving her another swift hug.
Now they could get on to business without the pesky butler hulking around.
"I've come to talk some sense into you, since your sister so obviously wasn't able to, and to get you back to LA. Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on your little meeting." Lucy gestured toward a petite brunette and a mountain of books spread over the desk.
"Lucy, this is Kara Lowe. She's my wedding planner." Zoey gestured toward Kara.
Lucy scrutinized the smaller woman. She was wearing designer couture, and those heels were some of the latest Prada. She was put together in a way that screamed New York. Lucy knew her coasts, and had had one too many dealings with the New York office of her firm. Kara might look like someone's harmless sister but Lucy would bet money that in the boardroom, this woman busted balls for breakfast. She liked her instantly.
"It's a pleasure. So, you are really going to do this, huh? There's nothing I can say to talk you out of this?" Lucy asked, shifting her attention back to Zoey. If she could get her alone, she might be able to shake some sense into her, spike her drink and get her out of the country unbeknownst to the groom and Zoey.
"If by this, you mean my wedding, yes. I love Declan, Lucy, be happy for me please. I cannot wait for you to meet him. I promise you'll love him too. You know I don't do anything without over-thinking it."
Lucy's heart sank into a bottomless pit. What the hell was she going to do without Zoey? She was her anchor, the one person Lucy knew in this fucked up world she could count on implacably, and she was going to live on the other side of the world. It might well be the moon for all that they would see one another. She blinked back the rush of tears and plastered a saucy grin on her face.
"Well, then, since I can't talk you out of it, I will do the next best thing," Lucy promised, winking at Kara.
Zoey rolled her eyes. "Whatever are you planning, Lucy?"
What I'm doing is a distraction so that I don't start bawling like a baby.
"Look, every bride deserves a small bachelorette party. Where's the nearest nightclub?" She covered her shaky voice as she whipped out her smartphone and began tapping away.
Blasted middle-of-nowhere Scotland!
Her smartphone, which normally worked like a charm, couldn't find a damn Wi-Fi or cellular signal. The one time she needed her electronics to function without a hitch, its performance made it no more useful than a paperweight. Lucy's internal panic button elevated to Defcon 1. She needed things to work so she could get a very large, very stiff drink, or two, or ten, in order to make her forget that her best friend had left the country and was never coming home.
"I can't get a signal on this thing. Are there any places you really like here that we could try?" Lucy swore under her breath as she shoved her phone back in her bag when it became obvious that she wasn't going to get a signal.
Zoey swallowed nervously, like she had a robin's egg stuck in her throat. "That would be in Inverness, about an hour or so away."
"Well, shit, that won't do at all." Lucy tapped her chin with her finger. Come on brain, think! What could we do to distract ourselves, and Zoey from the fact that my heart is breaking?
"We do have a pool and hot tub, though, and a wine cellar," Zoey murmured, offering Lucy an alternative.
Eureka! Thank God!
Lucy clapped her hands, feigning excitement. A wine cellar was good. A bottle or so and she would feel right as rain. "Then we are going to have an impromptu girls only pool party. Kara, would you like to join us?"
The more, the freaking merrier.
"Sure, that sounds like fun." The tiny brunette smiled and closed the books on the desk.
"Kara, why don't you meet us down in the pool area in twenty minutes after I get Lucy settled in her room? Then we can reconvene down there," Zoey said, ever the inclusive, conscientious planner.
"Great," Kara responded, still with a small smile playing on her lips.
Lucy dismissed her and slid her arm through Zoey's as they left the library. She masked her hurt, as usual, with exuberance, which at times meant she went over the top with things. Except in this moment, she didn't care that she sounded a little too bold and brash. "My gosh, look at this place. When you get stranded, you certainly do it in style, Zoey."
"I love it here," Zoey murmured, tempering her words as they walked down the hall to the elevator.
Lucy paid more attention to Zoey than the décor, watching her friend's reaction to their surroundings. Zoey did love this place, her gaze nearly caressing the walls. Although, her demeanor toward Lucy was subdued, like she was upset by Lucy's unexpected intrusion into her new world. Probably because she knew that the moment the two of them were truly alone, Lucy was going to pepper her with questions. And was that a hickey she spied on Zoey's neck? Well, she knew her friend was having hot monkey sex, but the blatant proof of it on display cemented her desolation. They rode an elevator up one floor. Then they took a left out of the elevator and went to the end of the hall.
Zoey led her to a corner room. Lucy's accountant's brain calculated what the exorbitant cost of electricity for a place like this must be, and she shuddered at the ghastly horror. She counted twenty-four doors on this floor, which she assumed were all bedrooms. Just the monthly running cost of this home had to be massive.
Zoey opened the door to a guest bedroom with a certain spring in her step. Lucy's heart squeezed at the coming sep
aration. In her bones, Lucy knew just by Zoey's demeanor that she'd never been happier. And, more importantly, that she was never coming home. Oh she'd come visit, but life was never going to be the same. She couldn't call her up and meet for brunch on Sunday, or hit the clubs or movie theater on the weekend.
Was it any wonder that Ophelia had returned to Burbank and burrowed in her home? Lucy understood the sentiment now with a first-hand empathy.
Inside the room were large bay windows that were open in the midday light. Glossy hardwood floors were covered with a smattering of crème-colored rugs, to help ward away the chill, perhaps. Dominating the room, in the center, was a frilly canopy bed with ivory lace curtains, and crème bedding piled high with pillows. In the far corner, next to the bevvy of windows, was an ivory fireplace. A door beyond the bed looked like it led to a bathroom. The furniture—from the bed to the armoire to the nightstand, and small sitting area near the fireplace—was all feminine lines and grace. It was a bit more girly than Lucy normally would have liked, but it was nice, and she could tell all the pieces were of an exceptional quality.
She ran a hand over the silken comforter before turning back to her best friend. Her heart was sinking in her chest faster than the Titanic.
"Zoey, are you positive that I can't convince you to come home with me? Are you one hundred percent sure about this Declan guy?" Lucy questioned, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to contain the sinking despair in her heart.
"Yes," Zoey responded swiftly and full of utter confidence.
Well, if she couldn't beat him…
"Okay, then I will do my best to be happy for you. Doesn't mean I'm not going to miss the hell out of you. Who am I going to commiserate with over Mimosas at brunch over my latest horrible date?" Whoever said you couldn't die of heartbreak could go fuck themselves, as far as Lucy was concerned. Her heart was breaking bit by bit, and it felt like the universe had plunged a knife in her chest over and over again.
"I'm going to miss that, too, but God, Luce, Declan is so fierce and so gentle all at the same time. Just thinking about him makes my insides go all gooey. When have I ever gotten mushy over a guy? At least not since our boy band phase in our freshman year of high school, which I'm trying hard to forget!"
"Never, if my recollection serves me right. Do you have a suit I can borrow for our little pool party? Otherwise, I might have to go native," Lucy said.
"Yep, I think I have just the thing. I'm just so happy that you're here. After the mess with Ophelia—"
"Who still isn't telling me everything that went down between the two of you…" Lucy may not be able to get her best friend stateside, but she might be able to help fix the rift between Zoey and Ophelia. They may not be blood relatives, but in her heart she considered them her sisters and her real family.
"That's for another time. Let's just have fun today and then we can talk about the rest later." Zoey sidestepped the issue and Lucy didn't have it in her to push like she normally did. All the wind had been sucked from her sails at witnessing the proof of Zoey's affection for this mystery man. If he raised one red flag when she did finally meet this daunted paragon of manhood, she'd reinstate her plan to drug Zoey and smuggle her out of the country.
"I can agree to that." She nodded and gave Zoey a quick hug before her friend left the room.
"Be right back with a suit and robe for you."
Lucy nodded, feeling just as adrift as she'd been the day social services had removed her from her father's home.
Chapter Three
The bathing suit Zoey loaned her was a sea green two-piece, which fit her well enough. Zoey was bit bustier in the chest than Lucy so the built in cups were a smidge overdone on her, but otherwise the swimsuit fit great. The more Lucy saw of the house, the deeper her heart slid into depression. It was one thing to know and understand that a part of your life was over for good. But to have it repeatedly bludgeoned and drilled into her brain made Lucy have to force herself to smile that much brighter, and pretend all the more like she wasn't devastated.
The maid, Sherry, who had all the makings of a Viking princess with her Nordic coloring and form, brought them the first round of wine and treats for their girls' party. If it weren't for the girl's heavy Scottish burr, Lucy would have pegged her for a Swede. And she was just the nicest thing under the sun.
Come on here, people! No one, even the stuck up butler, was giving Lucy any ammo she could potentially use, since they all seemed to adore Zoey—and she them.
Lucy was on her third glass of a full-bodied French chardonnay when a large man, dressed in grey woolen slacks and soft crème cashmere sweater that fit his muscled form like butter over bread, strode into the poolroom. He sported a full head of thick dark hair, only a shade or so lighter than Zoey's, and strode down the stairs to the pool deck, sauntering over to Zoey.
When he spied Zoey in her little black and gold bikini, Lucy watched the pleasure transform his face from merely handsome into breathtaking. Shit. This must be Declan. And not only was he gorgeous, but one look at him, at the way he merely glanced at Zoey, and Lucy knew she'd never seen a man more in love with a woman. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, and the hint of a smile on his lips softened the hard lines his face.
He approached Zoey, who grinned up at him with a dopey, dreamy expression on her face. Zoey stood and hugged him, giving him a brief kiss.
"I hear we have another visitor?" Declan's voice rolled in a sweet Scottish burr, his electric gaze landing on Lucy in an assessing fashion. At his quizzical stare, Lucy knew that, in all of two seconds, the butler must have made his displeasure with her known. Well, bully for him. She wouldn't apologize when she'd done nothing wrong, in her esteem.
"Yes, we do," Zoey murmured and turned to gaze at Lucy.
Lucy graciously stood, straightening her spine as she closed the distance. She held out her hand in greeting, looking Declan straight in the eyes. "Lucy Martin, and you must be the man stealing our girl away from us."
"Lucy!" Zoey exclaimed, sputtering and blushing to try to cover up her friend's boldness.
Declan chuckled at her audaciousness. He may as well get used to the fact that Lucy cowered before no man and usually said what she thought—sometimes before she thought.
He gripped her hand with a surprisingly confident strength, his palm smooth against hers. "Declan McDougal at your service. And that's what all of us good Scots lairds used to do, go raiding and steal our brides. I was only following tradition."
"Well, we can't mess with tradition now can we?" She issued a rejoinder with lavish flare.
"Besides, if it was anyone did the stealing, it was Zoey." He released Lucy's hand and then casually slid his arm around Zoey, pulling her close to his side.
It was a subtle; 'she's mine' type of move that most women would sigh over. Lucy was not most women; she understood it was a battle line of ownership that he'd just drawn. Any more rustic and Neanderthal, and he'd be peeing a circle around her to stake his claim.
"Doesn't surprise me in the least. I could tell you stories about this one's tenacity," Lucy replied, plastering a cheeky grin on her face. She'd get through this if it killed her.
"Is that right?" He shot a sidelong glance at Zoey, who was monitoring their interplay like a den mother who might need to break up a fight.
Seeing them together, up close and personal, with Zoey all cuddled up against his side, Lucy felt her own private pit of despair deepen. They looked bloody perfect together. And more importantly, they fit each other, like two halves of the same puzzle that had finally been put back together. With a knowledge borne of experience, Lucy knew he was the one for Zoey.
And where did that leave Lucy? With the distinct urge to go all green rage monster and smash things to bits. She wanted to cry and scream until the loss and forthcoming separation from her best friend no longer registered on her internal Richter scale.
Declan's open candor, his friendly, non-sociopathic demeanor, made some of her reservatio
ns about Zoey's choice settle inside her. He seemed like a nice man, dammit.
"How long will you be staying?" he asked, his gaze still assessing her.
"Until Wednesday, I have end of the year accounts to tidy up with the fiscal year ending."
"That it is, Zoey had mentioned you were an accountant. Independent, or are you with a firm?" She noticed the understated slide into business mode in his features. He was a mogul for a reason, and it showed.
"I've been with Fromiere's and Associates for close to five years now. Been a CPA for six," Lucy said proudly. She'd worked damn hard.
"They're an excellent firm. What's your position?"
"Senior Accounts Manager in our corporate finances division." She'd worked hard climbing the corporate ladder. She'd made sacrifices, hiding parts of her life away to ensure her career success.
"Let me know if you ever decide to leave them. I can always use someone with your skills," he offered, so nonchalantly there was no way he was pulling her leg, or showing off for Zoey's sake.
"I'll keep that in mind," Lucy murmured. Then she ended up being the surprised one when she talked business with Declan for another ten minutes. They swam in many of the same circles—albeit she was still in the smaller side of the pond—but the more they talked, the more she discovered she liked him. Lucy rolled her eyes at Zoey's theatrics, who was pretending she was listening to a snooze-fest.
Lucy liked Declan. He was a smart, considerate businessman, with some incredible ideals with regards to how he planned to use his position and power for the greater good of humanity. He was, down in the bones, a totally decent guy. Dammit. She'd wanted to dislike him immensely on principle alone, but found not a single damn thing that irked her or set off alarm bells.
When Declan spied Zoey sticking out her tongue at him, he promptly picked her up and tossed her into the pool. Zoey surfaced, spluttering, as Declan's gaze, the only word Lucy could think of, smoldered at her best friend. The air became kinetic and Lucy was surprised his heated look didn't evaporate the chest deep pool water, where Zoey stood glaring back at him before she turned rather sheepish. And then Zoey softened under his gaze, a blush spreading on her cheeks.