Heart Melter

by Sophia Knightly

  Ian started the car and steered it back on the road. His phone rang, startling Natasha.

  “Alec, what do you have?” Ian said, glancing at Natasha.

  “We nabbed the shitebag,” Alec said.

  “Fantastic. Hold on, I’ll put you on speaker so Natasha can hear you too.”

  “Hello, Natasha,” Alec boomed. “Dinna fash, lass. Tony is at the police station.”

  “Oh, thank God!” Natasha exclaimed as blessed relief poured over her frayed nerves like a balm. “How did you catch him?”

  “He was in a stolen car and nearly ran someone over getting on the ferry. The police surrounded him and he gave up. It was that or be run off the ferry,” Alec said with a snort.

  “Brilliant. Good job,” Ian said.

  “The police are holding onto your phone. Sorry I couldn’t get it back for you,” Alec said.

  “They can have it,” Natasha said right away. “I don’t want any reminders of Tony.”

  “What about your phone contacts and information?” Alec asked.

  “No worries. I have everything backed up. Thank you so much, Alec!” Natasha said, giddy with relief.

  “My pleasure. Where are you?” Alec asked.

  “We’re heading to the cottage,” Ian said.

  “Please thank Eileen for her hospitality,” Natasha added. “You too.”

  “Will do,” Alec said. “I’ll keep you posted.”

  Chapter Twenty

  A bit later, they ate the picnic lunch Ian had picked up in town. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Natasha felt completely happy and out of danger. Ian looked at ease as he stretched out beside her on a blanket beneath a clear sky and shining sun. The black Cuillin Mountains formed a magnificent background for their meal.

  Natasha tore off a chunk of crusty bread and chewed it as she watched Ian slice an apple. His hands, strong and competent, were so precise that she could imagine his expertise with a patient. "Tell me about the clinic and how you plan to work on Arthur’s face.”

  Ian looked up. “I’m inviting the top dermatology students for seminars at my clinic. They'll perform laser surgery as charity for those who can't afford it.” He smiled. “Don’t worry about wee Arthur, I’ll treat him myself."

  "I wish I could be with him during the treatments to hold his hand and ease his fears," she said, sighing.

  "He’ll be fine, it’s not painful.”

  "Oh good. I feel guilty about leaving him behind."

  Ian gave her a comforting smile. "Don't. He's in good hands.”

  “Yes, he is. In your hands,” she said, smiling back even though her heart ached at the thought of saying good-bye to Arthur. "What will become of him once you've finished the treatments?"

  “I'll find a good home for him.”

  “What if they don’t love him enough?” she fretted. “He’s been rejected already by his own mother. I would adopt him and take him with me to New York if I could,” she said wistfully. “Arthur is special. He is so sweet.”

  “Aye, he is,” Ian said pensively. His eyes softened as he gazed at her with heart-melting tenderness. “Shall we adopt wee Arthur then?”

  “Do you mean it, Ian?” Natasha cried. When he nodded, she grabbed his face and kissed him exuberantly. “Does that mean—”

  “That I want to marry you?” he said, smiling at her. “I do. Will you marry me, darling?”

  “Yes! A million, zillion times yes,” she cried, hugging him.

  “Good. Now no more tears, just happiness,” he said, molding her to him.

  Natasha moaned as his thumb rubbed her lower lip provocatively. She bit the fleshy pad of his thumb and licked it.

  “You’re irresistible,” he murmured, tilting her face and nibbling on her lower lip. Within seconds, he’d kissed her into a quivering, moaning, shameless heap of desire.

  Natasha arched as he unclasped her bra and raised her sweater. Lifting her breasts in his warm hands, fingertips lightly pulled the tender tips. Her breath caught in her throat and wild lust shot through her, electrifying every cell of her body. She grabbed handfuls of his dark hair while he bent his head and suckled her nipples. His teeth lightly grazing them, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her sweet spot.

  “Delicious,” he murmured between kisses, “like winter raspberries.”

  Hot, blinding desire spiraled inside her, urgent and unbearable as wet lust pooled in her feminine core. Emitting a shuddering moan of surrender, she closed her eyes and let him feast on her achy breasts. Within seconds, she was writhing and quivering with pleasurable ripples as Ian worked his magic on her. Stretched beneath him on the blanket, she welcomed his solid weight as he bore her to the ground, his lovemaking demanding and tenderly fierce.

  Much later, Natasha lay in his arms, shattered and speechless at the profound love they’d shared. She gazed at him and memorized every detail of his face to carry her through the time they’d be separated while she was in New York.

  Ian stroked her hair from her forehead and kissed her eyelids. “Your eyes are the softest shade of blue I've ever seen." He hugged her close. "Loving you is tearing my heart out, angel." He tightened his hold on her. “Nothing will separate us,” he vowed.

  “Nothing,” she repeated fervently. After a while, she said, “Can we go inside now? The temperature’s dropping. And my behind hurts.” She grinned impishly and rubbed her bottom where it had been ground into the blanket by Ian’s vigorous lovemaking.

  “Aye, you’ve taken a pounding and we don’t want to damage the wee, delicate goods,” he said, chuckling as he patted her bottom. He gathered everything up and took her hand.

  Inside the cottage, they set about packing everything up. The gurgle of the rushing stream outside made her walk to the window to gaze through the open shutters one last time. Inhaling a deep, healing breath, Natasha savored the Skye mountain air and gave thanks for their happiness.

  Later, as they drove to the ferry, Natasha called Maggie to let her know they were on their way. She related all the events leading to Tony’s arrest, punctuated by Maggie’s wild exclamations and grumbling interjections.

  After convincing Maggie that they were out of danger, Natasha asked, “How is Arthur?”

  “The wee lad is keeping me busy, that’s for sure,” Maggie said, chuckling. “But you won’t hear me complainin’.”

  Natasha smiled at the fondness in Maggie’s tone. “I’m glad. What about my little pom pom? Has Evita behaved?”

  “Aye, she has,” Maggie said. “Ranald’s quite taken with her, so is Arthur. She rules them like the wee diva she is.”

  Natasha chuckled. “Maggie, I have wonderful news to share with you,” she said, leaving the best for last.

  “What is it, lovey?” Maggie said.

  “Ian asked me to marry him and I said yes—of course!” Natasha said, smiling at him.

  He winked and squeezed her hand.

  Maggie let out a loud whoop of delight. “Ranald, come quick! The kids are engaged to be married. Praise God!” she exclaimed. “Have you set a date?”

  “Not yet, but we will soon,” Natasha said.

  “I’m crying like a bairn. I have to go now. You’ve made me so happy, I need to find a hankie. Give my love to Ian and we’ll see you soon.”

  When she hung up, Ian said dryly, “I take it she’s pleased.”

  Natasha grinned. “She’s pleased all right. Her squeal almost left me deaf. I’ve missed them, and Arthur and Evita.”

  "Me too. We have a lot of good news to share,” he said, smiling at her.

  When they arrived, Natasha was surprised to find a dark green sports car in the driveway leading to the castle. "Do you know whose car that is?" she asked.

  "No. I haven't seen it before," Ian replied, his brow furrowed.

  Natasha shifted uneasily as he walked around to her side of the car.

  "Stay here," he said. "I'll find out."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Just as Ian approached the fr
ont doors, Anitra flung them open and stepped out. Natasha gasped and ran out of the car toward her mother, noting her aggressive stance and sour face. Dramatically dressed in a royal purple wool crepe suit, Anitra’s jet black hair was swept into an elegant chignon at the back of her neck. As she got closer, Natasha recognized the diamond and amethyst bracelet and earrings sent by a fan on one of her birthdays. Now she was certain the “generous fan” had been her lover, Malcolm.

  Anitra braced one bony hand on her waist as the other clutched a cigarette. Narrowing her green eyes, she took a deep pull of the cigarette and exhaled harshly.

  “What are you doing here?" Natasha asked the moment she reached Anitra’s side.

  “What are you doing here?” Anitra countered, eyeing her furiously. “I’ve been beside myself wondering when you were returning to New York. You’ve ruined your career by disappearing like that and now I find you with him!” She waved her cigarette at Ian with disdain.

  “Are you here to talk business?” Ian asked Anitra bluntly.

  Lips curled downward, Anitra threw her cigarette to the floor and ground it with her heel.

  Anitra glared at Ian. "I told you to stay away from my daughter."

  "Since when have I taken orders from you?" he said in a deceptively calm voice.

  Anitra pointed a sharp nail at Ian. "I hold the cards here. Shall I tell Natasha of your plan to blackmail me?"

  Natasha's eyes narrowed on her mother. “Stop it!” she snapped.

  Anitra sniffed. "Last week Ian came to London and threatened to blackmail me."

  “Good. I would have done the same in his shoes. Don’t waste your breath criticizing Ian. Nothing you say could ever make me love him less.”

  “You shouldn’t trust him,” Anitra said with a twist of her mouth.

  “I don’t trust you. The last time you came between us, you managed to break us up.”

  “That’s unfair. I did it to protect you,” Anitra retorted.

  “You did it to protect yourself. I know about your affair with Malcolm.”

  Anitra turned to Ian with venomous eyes. “So you told her anyway. That shows how much you love my daughter.”

  Ian took a step toward her and Natasha laid a hand on his rigid biceps. “Let me deal with her.”

  He nodded tightly; a muscle ticked in his taut jaw as his intense eyes blazed at Anitra.

  Anitra drew in a sharp breath. “I was deeply in love with Malcolm and we had an affair for years. So what?” she spat. “The only reason he wouldn’t marry me was because of his son. Malcolm promised Fiona he wouldn’t remarry unless his son was in favor of it,” she said, jutting her chin toward Ian. Her hands shook as she lit another cigarette and took a deep drag. "I adored Malcolm from the moment I met him until the day he died, and I don’t regret one minute I spent with him.”

  Natasha glanced at Ian's grim face and wished her mother would shut up. “Spare me your love life, Anitra! I only want to hear that you’re going to stop this selfish battle over Glenhaven.”

  Anitra’s chin shot up. “Never.”

  Natasha took a deep breath and looked her square in the eye. “Never? Then here’s what I’m going to do. If you don’t sell your portion of Glenhaven to Ian, I am going to write a scathing, tell-all book about you.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Anitra said with a mocking laugh.

  “Watch me.” Natasha thrust her face within inches of Anitra’s. “By the time I’m finished writing about you, mommie dearest, you won’t have one fan left,” she bluffed in one of her most convincing performances yet.

  Anitra’s mouth dropped open as she stared at Natasha. “You would turn against your mother? You’re my only daughter. That book would ruin me and you know it! I didn’t raise you to be so cruel.”

  “You didn’t raise me at all. You say you only have one daughter, but I only have one parent…Daddy. And now I find out you cheated on him your entire marriage. It makes me sick. How do you think Robert will feel when he finds out?”

  “Leave your brother out of it. Don’t do this, Natasha,” Anitra said furiously.

  “If you don’t want me to, then sign the papers agreeing to sell Ian back his portion. If you do, I won’t write the book. I won’t even tell your sordid secret to Daddy and Robert. Do we have a deal?”

  Natasha had her cornered; she knew it the minute she mentioned her younger brother, Robert. Anitra’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits as her jaw clamped down. Several moments passed as she opened her mouth and closed it, swallowing convulsively.

  “Where’s the blasted paper?” Anitra said at last.

  “Be right back,” Ian said, leaving the room.

  “Don’t expect me to accept Ian, because I won’t,” Anitra fumed when they were alone.

  “Suit yourself. I don’t care whether or not you accept him. I love him and we’re getting married. That’s all I care about,” Natasha said, meeting her mother’s eyes calmly.

  “Are you crazy? Why would you give up your stellar career to move here?” Anitra said, gesturing around her. “When you snap out of his spell, you’ll see Ian for the domineering, selfish man he is.”

  “You’re wrong. He’s the most understanding, generous man I know.”

  Anitra stared at her wordlessly. After a heavy pause, she said, “So he won the battle. Like father like son,” she said shaking her head as realization dawned. “That’s the type of passionate love I had for Malcolm.”

  “Spare me. I don’t want to hear about your lust for Malcolm. What about Daddy? Why did you even marry him, if you never loved him?”

  “Walter never made me feel like Malcolm did.” Anitra grabbed Natasha’s arm with a brittle, cold hand. “I don’t want to lose you to Ian,” she said through tight lips.

  “Then you’d better be civil to him. I love him with all my heart and I won’t let anything or anyone ruin it ever again,” Natasha said fiercely.

  Anitra deliberated Natasha’s words and finally nodded. Several strained moments ticked by as they waited in silence for Ian to return.

  He entered the room with a manila envelope clutched in his hand and withdrew a paper from it. Placing it on the foyer table, he indicated a line at the bottom. “Sign here,” he said to Anitra in a flat tone.

  Anitra signed the document and put the pen down forcefully. Without a backward glance, she lifted her head and strode out the door to her car.

  Natasha waited until her mother’s car turned the corner before shutting the door. Looking up at Ian, she said, “Triumph at last!”

  He pulled her in for a tight hug. “You were formidable, darling. Were you really planning to write that dreadful book?”

  “No, but I enjoyed turning the tables on her with my final Trump card.”

  He chuckled and tweaked her nose. “Don’t ever think of using a Trump card on me.”

  Natasha grinned. “You, Dr. Who? Never,” she said, tickling his lean waist until he burst out laughing.

  The sound of tires crunching the driveway made them turn and stare at the door. “Now what?” Ian said grumpily. “I hope she hasn’t come back.”

  “I doubt it’s Anitra.” Natasha opened the door and squealed with delight when she saw Maggie and Ranald drive up. She rushed out to greet them. When Ranald parked the car, Arthur flung the door open and ran toward her with Evita yapping at his heels. Maggie and Ranald remained in the car, watching from afar with broad grins.

  Arthur threw himself into her embrace, almost knocking her over with the force of his eagerness. "Natasha! Dr. Ian! You came back!" he cried elatedly.

  Natasha hugged Arthur and kissed the top of his dear little head. "Of course, we did! We love you."

  Arthur pulled back and gaped at her, his mouth broadening into the smile she found so enchanting. "You do?" he asked, his dark blue eyes sparkling.

  "Absolutely! Ian and I love you very much." You're my baby now, she thought as happy tears filled her eyes at the thought of adopting him. He would be their first child and very precious
to them.

  Evita barked and growled indignantly, her fur standing on end as she gave her a look that said, “What about me, Mommy?”

  “You too, baby,” Natasha said, lifting Evita in her arms and kissing her fluffy face.

  Evita responded with guilt inducing whimpers followed by ferocious yips.

  “She’s a wee bit spoiled, don’t you think?” Arthur said, shaking his head.

  “Aye, she is, Arthur.” Ian fondly rumpled his hair. “Do you have a hug for me too?” he asked, squatting down beside him.

  Arthur gave him a tight hug. When he pulled back, Arthur’s brows crinkled at Natasha. "Why are you crying?"

  His worried expression tugged at her heart. "They’re happy tears," she assured him with a wobbly smile. "I missed you."

  "I missed you too. Especially at bedtime," he said, ducking his head shyly. "Will you sing for me tonight?"

  “Of course. I’ll teach you a song so we can sing together.”

  Gazing at Arthur’s dear little face, she didn’t want to think about leaving him. The excitement of performing for hundreds of strangers suddenly paled next to the joy of bringing music into his life.

  Arthur wound his arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. She hugged him back, longing to hear him call her mum.

  Ian cleared his throat and asked Arthur, "What did you do while we were gone?"

  Arthur wriggled out of Natasha’s arms and put his hands on his hips, mimicking Ian’s stance. "Maggie and Ranald took me sightseeing every day. We saw lots of castles!" He tugged at Ian's arm. "When can we go fishing again?"

  "Is tomorrow soon enough?" Ian’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he watched Arthur.

  "Aye, aye, aye," Arthur chanted, skipping into the castle. "Where's Dugie? I'm starving."

  "I'm right here, laddie," Dugie answered, entering the foyer as she dried her hands on her clean apron. "Come with me, ducky, and I'll feed you," she blustered, ushering Arthur from the room.

  Natasha hugged Maggie and Ranald warmly when they approached her with beaming smiles. “It’s so good to be back. Thank you for watching over Arthur.”