Claimed by the Wealthy Magnate

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Claimed by the Wealthy Magnate Page 8

by Nina Milne


  Oh, great! She really wasn’t sure she could deal with this overload of sensation. Panic at the proximity of the water battled with panic at the proximity of Daniel. The idea of the two combining made implosion viable.

  One thing at a time, Kaitlin.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t want it to be awkward just because I misread the signals.’

  His blue eyes met hers with an unreadable expression and in that instant she wondered if he believed her.

  ‘I thought if I took you out in the kayak it might ease things. But of course if you would prefer Matt I’ll call him.’

  Now what?

  Digging deep, she turned back to face the water—and realised that, like it or not, his presence made her feel safe.

  ‘If you’re sure you don’t mind, then let’s start this lesson.’

  With a brief nod he retreated, returning with two brightly coloured kayaks that he took down to the water’s edge.

  ‘OK. So here’s what you need to know before we start...’

  His words were concise and easy to understand as he explained safety procedures and helped her into a life jacket. But as they edged nearer to the moment where she would actually have to go into the boat on the water it became harder and harder to concentrate as she fought back fear and kept it at bay.

  ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘Sure.’ If she didn’t count clammy skin and leaden limbs. ‘Just a bit nervous about actually getting into the kayak.’

  The bright red-trimmed boat looked ridiculously small and outrageously fragile as it bobbed up and down.

  ‘That can be one of the trickiest things. Don’t forget what I said about bending your knees deeply, so you can get into a good low squat. That way your centre of gravity is low and you achieve stability. I’ll go first and you watch.’

  As he squatted down her gaze couldn’t help but be snagged on the sheer strength of his torso, the power of his thighs, and for a welcome instant appreciation cut clean through her anxiety for enough precious seconds that she could manage to follow suit once he was in.

  There. She was in the kayak and it would keep her afloat as long as she could focus on Daniel’s instructions.

  The best way to do that was to imagine the water away, fantasise that she was in the gym and focus on Daniel’s tuition about how to grasp the paddle, the angle of manoeuvre, the different techniques of bracing, rolling, turning... All verbs that her tummy took as instruction even as she exerted every bit of Lady Kaitlin to demonstrate not an iota of her inner chaos.

  ‘Brilliant! There you go. You’re a natural.’

  The reassurance of his voice allowed her to focus on getting through. If she didn’t look at the water...if she continued the pretence that she was on a rowing machine and concentrated on the movement of the paddle...

  Twenty minutes later a sudden cautious thrill of pride shot through her, and the unfamiliar feeling caught her by surprise. When was the last time she’d felt proud of herself or stepped out of her comfort zone?

  For one treacherous second she revelled in the feeling and forgot the whole pretence that she was safely ensconced in a gym in Chelsea. The scenery flashed into view: the shoreline in the distance, the expanse of the canal around her, the tug of the current that rocked the boat as she lost the paddle’s rhythm...

  Debilitating panic struck. All pride, all her joy in her accomplishment shattered into shards of terror. The metallic taste of fear coated her tongue as she stared mesmerised into the looming menace of the water.

  Common sense made an attempt to cleave through the fear—told her she had a life jacket on, that she was not in a storm-tossed sea.

  But it made no headway against the inner hurricane of irrational panic that swept through her body and her mind. The pounding in her ears, the throbbing of her heart and an all too familiar clamminess swamped the voice of reason and refused to allow the tips and strategies garnered from her internet searches and research over the years to permeate.

  The paddle fell from her hand and she tried to grip the side of the kayak, tried to remember how to breathe through the haze that clogged her lungs. The craft rocked and toppled and over she went, the ice cold shock of the water intensifying the nightmare.

  ‘Kaitlin!’

  The deep, authoritative sound of Daniel’s voice reverberated faintly and she dimly registered a splash. Then his arms were around her. For an instant blind fear kicked her into fight or flight mode—images of her thirteen-year-old self filled her mind. Being picked up and bundled into the boot of the car, the struggle, the sickly scent of something clamped to her mouth, the wrench of pain... Being held over the water, submerged...

  Then... ‘Kaitlin. It’s Daniel. I’ve got you. Trust me.’

  Trust.

  No, she couldn’t.

  ‘Just stop fighting and I’ll let you go. The life jacket will buoy you up. You’re safe.’

  Slowly his voice had an effect, and she concentrated on the cold, the sensation of his arms around her.

  Daniel. Daniel.

  This was the here and now—not years ago. No one was trying to take her, force her... Slowly her brain kicked back into gear, pulled her into the present.

  Do your breathing exercises—in and out, count to five. Open your eyes and focus on your surroundings. On the craggy contours of Daniel’s features, the water-drenched dark hair, one curl sculpted to his brow, the intense blue of his eyes, the outline of his mouth...

  Muzzy warning bells rang but she ignored them, too caught in the moment as anxiety morphed into heightened sensations of an entirely different kind. Awareness soared inside her, oblivious to the layers of clothing that separated them, to the ice-cold of the water. On some level it occurred to her that it was the surroundings she should focus on—the towering height of the pines, the bulk of the mountains in the distance, the call of a kestrel as it swooped in the sky, the kayaks bobbing gently away from them—but it all faded against his aura that projected sheer strength and safety. Made her want to remain in his hold.

  Think.

  But thought was nigh on impossible when an answering awareness dawned in his eyes...when he was so close...when all she wanted to do was reach up and cup the jut of his jaw...

  Stop!

  Any minute reporters might converge on the shore—and, more than that, Daniel represented danger. He made it harder to be the person she wanted to be—Lady Kaitlin Derwent.

  So from somewhere deep inside she summoned reserves of strength. ‘We need to get the kayaks. I’m all right now.’

  Not entirely true, the icy fingers of water still made unease flare, but she could control it. Would control it.

  ‘They aren’t too far away.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’ But her teeth had started to chatter now, and a wave of tiredness descended as he released her.

  Telling herself she’d be fine, she watched as he retrieved the kayaks and returned.

  ‘Let’s get you back in.’

  The soothing tone of his voice, the confidence that he would be able to do just that, gave her the impetus to follow his instructions, and relief hit as soon as she was in the relative safety of the kayak.

  ‘I’ll be right beside you.’

  Kaitlin nodded, gritted her teeth and focused on the paddle, on their movement to the shoreline and what it represented. Finally they arrived, and she scrambled out onto dry land.

  ‘Let’s get you home and out of—’ He broke off and his lips turned up in a rueful smile. ‘You need to warm up.’

  Kaitlin managed a nod, and could only be thankful Daniel wasn’t a mind-reader as her treacherous brain took the idea of being taken out of her clothes and warmed up and ran with it.

  Stop it.

  This was
nothing more than a reaction to the panic attack. ‘Let’s go.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TWO HOURS LATER Daniel rose as Kaitlin entered the tastefully furnished comfortable lounge, where a medley of cream and red sofas and overstuffed armchairs were arranged against a backdrop of Scottish landscapes and a vista of the real live Caledonian Canal seen through the enormous wall-wide windows.

  Kaitlin walked across the room with her customary grace, all trace of panic eradicated. Her slightly damp hair fell in a sleek Titian curtain to touch her shoulders, and she wore a simply cut white blouse edged with lace over a pair of jeans. She looked gorgeous and exuded a clean, flowery smell he couldn’t identify but which teased his nostrils.

  Desire made him almost groan out loud, and it took every ounce of his will to keep him standing still. Kaitlin had made it clear she wasn’t interested, and whilst his experience told him her body wasn’t fully on board with that decision it wasn’t in his psyche to force an admission of attraction.

  Anyway, getting involved with Kaitlin was a bad, bad idea. Stupid on all levels. It would embroil him in a media hype he truly didn’t want. But also Kaitlin was too complicated—he still couldn’t fathom the reasons for her deception in Barcelona, and he sensed the existence of baggage that he should have no desire to open.

  Yet for some reason he wanted to know what made her tick, and that was a mistake—the first footfall on a slippery path. Curiosity would lead to entanglement and the formation of bonds, however tenuous—ties that would have the potential to bind or, perhaps worse, to be broken. Either way, pain was the result.

  There it was again—the grief etched on his mother’s face when he’d left. Grief he had caused.

  So any form of involvement with Kaitlin was a no-go zone. His cardinal relationship rule—keep it clean, simple and short-term—needed to remain inviolate.

  ‘Feeling better?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you.’

  ‘You should have told me you were scared of water.’

  Kaitlin lifted her shoulders and the sudden weariness on her face touched him with compassion.

  ‘I hoped it would be OK...that the phobia would have gone.’

  ‘How long have you had it?’

  Her reluctance to answer was palpable in the way she smoothed her hands down her jeans, but then she turned to face him, held his gaze with an aloofness that he believed to be her best defence method.

  ‘A few years.’ A shadow darkened the green of her eyes to jade.

  ‘Have you seen anyone about it?’

  ‘No need. It’s not like I have a yen to swim the Channel. I can manage it. I will manage it.’

  Her voice was cool and determined, and if he hadn’t witnessed her panic attack earlier he would have believed her without question,

  ‘Uh-uh.’ Daniel shook his head. ‘Not on my watch. No way are you kayaking tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes, I am. The whole point of today was to prepare me for tomorrow.’

  Admiration touched him that she was willing to put herself through the ordeal again, but he shook his head. ‘Not necessary.’

  ‘Yes, it is. I will not let this phobia win—I can’t.’

  The grit in her voice, the starkness of her tone indicated a depth to Lady Kaitlin he hadn’t realised existed.

  ‘I made a commitment to this exercise and I will honour it. The whole point of my presence is to bring publicity to the campaign. I can’t do that if I’m not there.’

  ‘It’s not the publicity I’m concerned about. It’s you.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Her forehead scrunched in surprise—almost as if it hadn’t occurred to her that anyone could be concerned for her on a personal level.

  ‘That’s...that’s very kind of you.’ The words were stilted, and as if she realised it she paused to regroup. ‘But truly there’s no need. I will be fine. I want to do this, Daniel. Please.’

  The low entreaty tugged at his chest and he thought quickly. ‘OK. But we’ll go in a tandem kayak. You and I.’

  You and I.

  For some reason the words held a strange sonorous significance. Ridiculous—this was no more than a practical solution.

  ‘And if there is any sign of panic you’ll tell me. Promise?’

  ‘I promise.’ Her green eyes met his with a hint of shyness. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No problem.’

  The silence stretched and twanged as awareness hovered in the air. Daniel forced his feet to remain rooted to the cream-carpeted floor, curbed the impulse that had him wanting to close the gap between them, pull her into his arms and kiss her.

  Bad idea, Dan.

  Though right here and now he was having a hard time remembering why.

  Kaitlin seemed equally lost for conversation, but then she gave a small shake of her head and clenched her fingers into her palms. ‘So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?’

  ‘To hike over the walk we’re taking the kids on. It’s a beautiful trek, and I want the chance to scope it out first.’ Before his brain could cut in, his mouth ran away with him. ‘Would you like to come?’

  Yet another bad idea. Instinct told him that the less time he spent alone with Kaitlin the better. But after her ordeal he didn’t want to leave her alone, so common politeness had dictated the invitation—nothing more. Common sense would ensure non-involvement.

  There was a second of hesitation and then Kaitlin nodded. ‘I’d like that.’ A small frown creased her forehead. ‘I prefer to be prepared, so I appreciate this. Plus I’ll get to break in my new hiking boots and check that I can actually manage the hike.’

  Deep breath.

  ‘I’ll go and get ready.’

  * * *

  Kaitlin gazed at her reflection in the mirror, then leant her forehead against the cool glass in the hope it would bring her back to her senses. She should never have agreed to the walk—her second favourite strategy after denial was avoidance. Ergo, she should duck, sidestep, positively dodge any time with Daniel.

  But it would help to check out the hike, and she was Lady Kaitlin Derwent, and she was in control.

  Twenty minutes later, having pulled on hiking socks and what she hoped would prove to be state-of-the-art walking boots, she went in search of Daniel and found him in the kitchen, loading up a rucksack.

  ‘I’ve packed us a picnic,’ he explained. ‘We’ll drive to Fort William, park in town and walk from there.’

  As Kaitlin climbed into the gleaming black four-wheel drive she glanced across at Daniel. His concentration on the road allowed her to watch the deft confidence with which he drove, the economical movements, the shape of his hands, the... Enough. She should be feasting her eyes on the landscape outside, not Daniel’s fingers, for heaven’s sake.

  And so for the rest of the short car journey Kaitlin watched the many shades of green and brown morph together into rolling meadows and plains, backed by mountainous peaks and tors, until they arrived at the bustling town of Fort William, one of the largest in the Highlands.

  Kaitlin inhaled deeply, reminded herself that it was no different from London—less familiar, but in many essentials the same—and the sight of familiar High Street brands grounded her as they drove through the town and parked.

  They alighted from the car and left the car park behind them, and soon they were following the zig-zag path uphill, leaving the noise of traffic and the hustle behind until it was nigh on impossible to believe the proximity of a town that housed thousands of people.

  The air was fresh and the crisp breeze carried the scent of the Highlands...gorse, heather with an evocative nuance of peat and whisky... After they’d scaled a small summit they paused, and Kaitlin stared out over the view and felt a sense of peace descend on her. The travails of the day, the terror the water had invoked, were p
aradoxically soothed by the enormity of nature.

  ‘I can see why you want to bring the kids here,’ she said. ‘All of this is timeless—makes you feel that no matter what is happening in the cities, in our lives...all the progress, all the fears...when you set it against this it gives you a certain peace.’

  Whoa—the plan had been to focus on small talk, to push Daniel into the realms of acquaintance. Instead she was waxing lyrical with philosophy.

  Before he could answer she turned away. ‘Where next?’

  The curved path led into a woodland area, where alder, willow and birch lined their ascent, and emerged to a view of a bulky hill—a foothill of Ben Nevis. Kaitlin paused and eyed the windy, steep peat path with trepidation.

  Daniel raised his eyebrows. ‘Worried you won’t make it?’

  In actual fact she’d been worried that her panic might make yet another show. But the challenge in his voice, delivered with a note of teasing and accompanied by a half-smile that notched up her heartbeat, helped shut down the fear before it could take hold.

  ‘Not in the slightest. I may not be an outdoorsy girl, but I keep fit.’

  ‘Then let’s go. And I promise the views will be worth it.’

  Lord knew he wasn’t wrong—but she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit, at least to herself, that the view she focused on most was the contours of his muscular body, the lithe strength of his frame, the length of his leg, the breadth of his thigh... Until they reached the top, where the panoramic stretch of moorland took her breath away.

  Daniel halted. ‘I don’t know about you, but I am famished. Shall we stop for lunch?’

  ‘Sure.’

  He shrugged off the rucksack, unstrapped it, tugged out a tartan picnic blanket and spread it on the ground. Kaitlin sat, her eyes widening as he pulled out item after item. Long baguettes, a selection of cheese, pâté, small pies lidded with smooth pastry edges...

  ‘It’s like a magic rucksack.’

  ‘I hope you’re hungry?’

  ‘Actually, I am. It must be the fresh air and the exercise. There is obviously a big difference between walking on a treadmill and out in the real world!’

 

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