Lion of Caledonia: International Billionaires VII: The Scots

by Caro LaFever

  “Mad like crazy?” his son asked.

  A flash of pain went through his father’s eyes and she wondered on it. Had someone he knew been crazy?

  “Mad like angry.” The voice, that rolling, rich voice went deep. “Long ago, he’d been cursed by a faerie.”

  “That’s too bad,” Robbie piped in.

  “Shoosh, now. Let me tell the tale.”

  Jen smiled because she’d seen this before. The man would pace and fret, but eventually he’d settle into the story. She’d learned to keep quiet until his words swirled through her.

  “The faerie took offense when the kelpie stomped through her garden and took her most precious possession.”

  “What was that?” His child wouldn’t follow the rules and be quiet.

  Much like his father.

  Cam glared at him. “Do I have to put a gag on ye, Rob?”

  The boy giggled.

  “Her most precious possession was, of course, a ring.”

  Jen’s hand sifted through the child’s hair and the ever-present guilt tugged inside.

  “A ring so beautiful and rare she’d kept it for her one true love.”

  “Then the kelpie took it,” his son interjected.

  His father’s tawny brows frowned in admonishment, still, he continued. “He took it down, down into his loch and hid it in a pile of other jewels he’d stolen from the humans who lived above the water.”

  “Why didn’t she follow him?”

  “Robbie, hush.” She smoothed her hand across his giggling mouth.

  “Now, ye know, Rob, a faerie can’t go into the water.” He crossed one leg over another, and she couldn’t help but notice the strength of his thighs and calves. “She had to wait until the kelpie came up from the water to take his nightly run.”

  “Horses like to run,” a small voice added.

  “Yes, they do,” Cam said. “And when he ran across the moor, she put a spell on him.”

  “What was it?” Another question came, yet more sleepily this time.

  “He would never find his own true love until the ring was returned.” The father shifted his attention from the sleepy boy to her. He flashed her a confident grin. “Kelpies don’t think they need love, so he wasn’t worried or afraid.”

  The boy huffed in her arms, almost asleep.

  “But then, one night, when he took his run, he met a fair maiden.”

  “Fair, huh?” She poked him verbally, instead of physically like she wanted to do. Playing it safe had been her mantra for too long a time to take that chance. “They’re always fair, aren’t they?”

  He lifted his hand and shook a finger at her. “Fair as in pretty, not necessarily blonde.”

  Chuckling, she looked at the boy in her arms. “He’s asleep.”

  “It’s been an exciting day for him, I’d expect.”

  “Yes.” She glanced his way. “You made the day for him. Made his whole year, I’d venture to say.”

  The man across from her grimaced. “I should have done this long ago.”

  “You should have.” Easing the boy from her grasp and pulling off his glasses, she laid his head on a pillow and tugged a tartan wool across his shoulders. “But better late than never.”

  “Don’t go spouting banality at me, Jenny. You’re better than that.”

  “Are you going to finish the story?” She wrapped her arms around her bent knees. If she were smart, she’d go to bed. Still, something about the last lingering warmth of the fire, the whistle of the wind, the encroaching darkness made her want to stay.

  She wasn’t safe here. She knew that.

  Her instinct or gut or heart, though, wanted more of this man.

  “I don’t think so. Not tonight.” His two-toned eyes stared at her. “I’m not sure how the story ends.”

  Jen snorted. “You always know how the story’s going to end.”

  “Do I?” He flashed her his customary smile, but there was a hint of wariness sliding through it. “Don’t be too sure.”

  A silence fell between them. The only sound for a few moments was the crack of a tree branch on a window and a soft snuffle as Robbie dug into his sleep.

  “I should go.”

  “Should ye?” He didn’t move, and yet she felt as if he pulled her in with a strong, stout rope. “Why?”

  “Because I’m scared,” she admitted.

  His predator eyes softened. “Och, lass. Everyone’s scared.”

  Another silence fell.

  “Come on.” He gestured at her. “I won’t hurt ye.”

  She knew he’d hurt her. He’d hurt her when she’d have to leave him. And he’d hurt her if he ever found her after she left with the ring. Getting any closer to Cameron Steward than she already was…was stupid. Very stupid.

  But none of her realizations seemed to matter in this warm, dark place. She wanted him. Wanted to be near.

  “Or maybe not.” At her continued silence, a sullen glower covered his face. “Maybe it’s only me who wants to be close.”

  That attitude, a childish, boyish attitude, tugged her right into stupidity. “It’s not only you.”

  “Ye don’t say?” Her admission drew a wide grin. “Then what are ye waiting for? Come here.”

  Rolling onto her knees, she crossed the expanse between them, jolting to a stop just out of reach. “We’re not going to do anything big.”

  “Big?” He chuckled. “What do ye mean by that?”

  “You know.” She waved a hand. “Robbie’s here.”

  “True.” Cam looked behind him and grabbed a pillow and a blanket. Plopping the pillow down on the Persian carpet lying in front of the fire, he dragged the cover across his long legs. “The fire will go out soon and we’ll be nice and snug under the covers.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “I’ll let ye take the lead.” He tugged on her arm, yanking her down to loom above her. “But big things can happen even when a child sleeps nearby.”

  “Kissing only.” She drew a trembling line in the sand.

  “And maybe some touching,” he teased.

  The last of the firelight slid along the cut of his cheekbones and the edge of his nose. For the first time, she noticed the tiny crook on the bridge. She lifted her hand and rode the line of the crook. “What happened?”

  “What happened, Jenny, is ye touched me first, so all bets are off.” Leaning in, he nuzzled into her neck and gave her a quick nip.

  “Ouch.”

  “Naw. It’s good, isn’t it?” The words ruffled her hair as he slid his mouth to her ear. “Very, very good.”

  The burr of his accent stirred her blood, and before she could stop, she did what she’d wanted to do for days and weeks. Her hand leapt to one hard shoulder and coasted across the rough wool of his jumper, feeling the power and heat of this male.

  “Yes,” he hissed his pleasure.

  Jen wanted to tear the wool off, touch his skin beneath, yet that would be too risky. And there was Robbie. With relief, she remembered the child. Her hand dropped away.

  He hissed again, this time in clear disappointment.

  They shouldn’t touch. But they could kiss. She needed at least a kiss. Turning her head, she sought his mouth. That smiling, teasing, storytelling mouth. “Kiss me.”

  His eyes were now dark and shadowed. They still pierced her through, though, trying to lunge into the heart of her. “Och, Jenny. I’m going to do more than that, ye know.”

  She knew. Somewhere in this amazing day, she’d made a decision. It was a bad one, she knew that, too. Yet, she wanted this so much, wanted this man’s body and his taking.

  “Not tonight.”

  He angled his head, lazy, languid curiosity filling his expression. “A provocative way of answering,” he mused. “So many questions could be asked about the meaning of that.”

  “Not now.” Risking herself again, she reached for him, running her hand along his smooth neck, feeling the rough strands of his hair covering her skin. “Come here.
”

  Cam chuckled. “The mouse becomes bold.”

  Her answer was to take, steal, and plunder his mouth.

  She surprised him.

  This average woman. This little mouse.

  Yet he shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d sensed the fire inside her, the heart of a burning desire. He’d tried to walk away and ignore and confuse himself with distractions. But he’d known. His instincts were fine-tuned to see danger far before it reared its head in front of him.

  Until this time, he’d always paid attention to the warnings.

  Her average mouth turned into a burning call to his sex. She swirled her tongue around his as if she owned it and him. Cam had always been able to describe anything—a town, a person, an event. The taste of this woman went beyond his ability to explain.

  The wet. The want. The wild.

  “Come closer,” she whispered on his lips. “Come over me.”

  There wasn’t anything average about what roared through his blood and body. He’d convinced himself they’d both have a bit of fun and do something they’d been wanting to do since they set eyes on each other.

  He’d ignored his instincts and thought he could play his usual game with this woman.

  A fool. A complete fool.

  Because this. This was nothing like what he’d planned. This wasn’t the fun and frolic he usually experienced with women. This was something entirely different.

  A clutch of terror twisted his gut.

  She pulled away from licking his neck to peer at him. “Are you okay?”

  No, he wasn’t. He shook inside.

  “Jenny.” He traced a hand down her waist. “Maybe we should stop.”

  “What?” Her grey eyes widened in immediate distress.

  And hurt.

  “It’s not ye.” He cringed at his clumsiness. Generally, he had more finesse with women. “It’s the boy.”

  “You weren’t worried about that a minute ago.” His mouse nailed him, her gaze narrowing. “So it must be me.”

  It was her.

  But not in the way she’d taken it.

  “You’re too much for me, lass.” He forced the admission because she deserved better than what he’d given her so far. Which was far too much. Or what he wouldn’t be able to give her. Which was very little.

  He’d had his fair share of women, before his marriage and after his wife’s death. He’d kissed the ladies and never made any of them cry. Not even Martine.

  Because they’d all known.

  Cam Steward was all about the adventure, the thrill, the next big thing.

  Cameron Steward didn’t do one place or one woman.

  This woman’s eyes widened again as she kept staring at him. Then a slight smile curved her far-from-average mouth. “Don’t try and make me believe adventurous you is scared of little old me.”

  “Not scared exactly.” Actually, it was that exactly.

  Jenny scared him.

  He’d ridden a Jeep smack into the middle of a gunfight in northern Africa. He’d flown a sputtering airplane out of a bombed-out town in Iraq. And he’d survived dozens of cuts, bruises, and broken bones.

  Yet, he’d never been as scared as he was now.

  Leaning on one elbow and sucking in a breath of air, he struggled to clear his foggy brain. But his other hand seemed to have a mind of its own. Even though he’d decided not to continue, he kept touching her. Running his fingers across her hips, rubbing his palms on her warm waist, circling closer to the pair of average breasts he desperately wanted to see and touch.

  He tried to pull himself together and out of this unexpected quagmire. “I’m thinking this might not be a good idea. You’re my employee after all.”

  That got him a snort of disbelief. “Come on.”

  “It’s something to think about.”

  Her strong hands swept across the scratch of his jaw into his hair. “Mr. Rule Breaker is suddenly sitting back to think?”

  “Ye know me so well, eh?” A shiver of pleasure went through him at her touch. The anxiety swimming inside, the fear of what she could mean to him if he went any further, threatened to be swamped with the desire she inspired.

  “I’m beginning to.” Those magic hands of hers swept down the front of his chest and before he could stop her, she slid under his jumper and touched the skin of his belly.

  Everything inside him stilled as he let out a sharp gasp.

  “You feel so good,” she murmured, her gaze never leaving his. “So hot and hard.”

  He groaned. “Ye said only kissing.”

  “Then kiss me.” She gave him a womanly smile, a slow, seductive opening of her lips. “Kiss me and I’ll stop touching.”

  There wasn’t anything he could do in the face of her power other than become a slave. He hadn’t anticipated this, this swift slide from a bit of fun and games into dependence. He should have seen, should have known.

  Fool.

  But there was no hope of escaping. Not when those mysterious eyes drew and drew and drew him in.

  “Jenny.”

  Nothing mattered after that. Nothing pinged his conscience or entered his brain. Swept up into a wildfire, the only thing he could hold on to was the center of the fire itself. The heat of her lips, the hot burn of her skin as he let both hands roam where they wanted, the fever of want making him mad with need.

  He gave his mouth to her, his tongue and teeth. He ceded his body to her, let her run her hands over his naked back and stomach. He surrendered his need and male desire into her soft, supple hands.

  The world around him faded into nothingness. The sound of the wind and fire drifted to silence. His awareness narrowed to only this woman he held in his arms.

  “Da? Jen?”

  She froze under him, her nails cutting into the skin of his sides.

  Cam came back to the world to find himself lying between her splayed legs. His painful erection pressed into her warmth, seeking satisfaction even through the layers of their clothes and the piercing realization that before anything, he was a father.

  A terrible father.

  “I’m here,” he croaked before he rolled off her.

  Her hands slipped from under his jumper, a smooth glide of heat.

  “Da.” The childish voice held a hint of disgruntlement. “Where’s Jen?”

  “I’m here too.” Clearing her throat, she scrambled out from beneath the blanket he’d thankfully pulled over them.

  Cam edged back to lean on the sofa, wool tartan still covering his embarrassing erection. Glancing toward his boy, he noted that Rob had straightened into a sitting position. He met an intense glare.

  Although he didn’t have his glasses on, his child wasn’t stupid. “What were ye doing to her?”

  “We were talking—”

  “He was telling me the rest of the story…” Her words cut his tall tale off and then crumbled to an end.

  Rob crossed his arms in front of his scrawny chest, his face scrunched into a grimace.

  The mouse twisted her hands in her lap as she scooted farther away.

  Amusement rumbled in. Who would have thought Cam Steward—a man who didn’t care what others thought, who didn’t spend a moment thinking of taking a kiss, who never once since he’d been a young lad felt chagrin—now had all three experiences to deal with?

  He looked across at his boy and grinned. “Well, son. Ye aren’t dumb, are ye?”

  “Huh?” Rob gave him a puzzled frown.

  “We were kissing,” his father announced cheerfully.

  “Cam!” Jenny’s worried, grey gaze sliced his way.

  His kid’s eyes went wide, then wary. “Why’d ye want to do that?”

  “Because she’s pretty.” He got on his hands and knees, and prowled across the rug to his son. “And it’s fun.”

  “Fun?” Rob’s mouth firmed. “I don’t think so.”

  “No?” He stopped next to his son’s side and smiled down. “You’ll learn. It’s fun.”

  The
boy glanced past him, curiosity filling his expression. “Did ye have fun, Jen?”

  A choked sound came from her throat.

  Cam wrenched around. All his amusement faded into thin air, replaced by guilt. “Are ye having trouble breathing?”

  “No. No.” Through the shadows, the only thing he could see was her outline, but by the way she held herself, he didn’t detect fear or anger. He should do something, though. Scoop her close. Hold her. He made a move toward her, then stopped.

  Another choke came from her. This time it was tinged with…

  Laughter.

  The taut stillness in his body eased away, and he gave her a quick, relieved grin. Even in the dark, he noted the smooth length of her white neck, the way her mouth widened into beauty, the glint in her misty eyes.

  “Why is she laughing, Da?”

  “I don’t know.” He turned back and leaned in. Grabbing his son, he settled next to him, snuggling into the musky smell of fire ash mixed with boy. “Maybe it’s because she’s having fun.”

  Rob scowled. “I don’t know if I want ye kissing her anymore.”

  “Och.” Glancing her way, he noted she’d finished her laugh. She stood by the fireplace, sliding her average hands down her body in a useless attempt to straighten the clothes he’d been rumpling mere minutes ago. “Why not?” he murmured into a small ear.

  “Because.” Rob took the hint and lowered his childish voice to a whisper. “I want her to be my friend.”

  “She can only have one friend?”

  “I’m leaving.” Her clipped voice broke between them. “Time for my own bed.”

  “Good night, Jen.” His kid smiled, as if he’d won a great victory by keeping them apart. “I’ll see ye tomorrow.”

  “Right.” She didn’t meet either of their gazes and the laughter appeared to be long gone.

  He didn’t know what to say. What could he say in front of his child?

  Come back here.

  Stay. Please.

  Let me kiss ye again.

  All of those words hovered in his head, slipping in between the obligation to his child and the story he held so tightly in his skull. He’d never had other words and obligations distorting his work or his stories. He’d always been free to jump right into his story brain and rock on to the next big tale.

  Now he couldn’t do it as easily as he once had.