by Caro LaFever
Would Jenny eventually glare at him with demented rage as Martine had?
As the months went by, with him in her bed and in her life, would she tell him of her disappointment using the same weary sighs his mother had used?
Or God help him, would his love finally look at him with harsh disgust the way his father had stared at him the last time Cam had seen him alive?
The insides of his soul and his spirit and his heart lurched back and forth, back and forth, making him dizzy with indecision.
Jenny glanced at him, giving him a quiet smile. “Good night.”
He wanted her. In his life and in his bed. He wanted to have her stand by his side.
He also didn’t want to disappoint her. Ever.
“Wait.” He dipped his lips towards hers. “I haven’t given ye a kiss yet.”
She stepped back with an abrupt jerk. “Not here. Not now.”
Lifting a brow, he tried not to be hurt. “You’re ashamed of being with me?”
“No.” The quick word shot out of her mouth. “But it isn’t appropriate.”
“Appropriate?” Tre strode right into their conversation once more, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “There’s that word again. Can’t say I’m not continually astonished at hearing that word tied to the dobber.”
Smacking his friend on the shoulder, he kept his gaze on her. Because there was something in the way she smiled, something in her eyes scared him.
“Good night, Tre. Cam.” She hefted his son in her arms.
“It’s Cam now, eh?” The taller man chuckled. “Not Mr. Steward?”
She blushed. Even in the firelight, he saw her porcelain skin flush. How could he have ever thought this woman was not anything above average?
“Leave her alone, Tre.” His gruff voice crackled into the night.
His friend stilled, his mouth going slack.
Turning away from the crowd, Cam whispered in her ear. “You’ll come back? After you’ve put Rob to bed?”
“I don’t think so.” She kept her focus on his boy. “I’m tired.”
Disappointment spiked through him with a jagged edge. “I’d like it if ye came back.”
Her gaze swept to his, a look of fragile hope in her eyes. “Really?”
“Yes, really, mouse.” Why would she think he’d not want her here? “The party won’t be a party without ye.”
A flash of astonishment crossed her face, surprising him.
“Steward!” Amanda’s voice rose again. “Come over here and party with us.”
“Go on.” Jenny clutched his son and gave him a tentative smile.
“I’ll wait for ye.”
“Okay.” The whisper of the word slid into the night as she turned and walked toward the mansion.
He swung around to meet Tre’s shocked gaze. “What?”
“You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it.”
“Done what, ye loon?”
His friend’s hefty arm encircled his neck, pulling him into a hug. “I’m glad for ye. I honestly am.”
“I don’t know what—”
“You two.” Amanda strutted to them, annoyance on her face. “Do I have to drag you into the fun?”
“Naw.” He straightened, pushing his crazy friend away. “Come on, Tre. Let’s see if ye can still drink a beer.”
As he followed his friends, he glanced at the house, wishing he were somewhere else.
“Give me another kiss.”
“I’ve already given you two.” But Jen obediently leaned down to give Robbie another. “There. It’s time for you to sleep.”
“I had fun tonight.” He snuggled into his bed. “Did ye?”
She had. Surprisingly. Even Tre’s teasing hadn’t diminished her enjoyment. Organizing parties she could do, yet participating in them wasn’t something she was ordinarily good at. She’d liked the down-to-earth parents that had come from town, though, and Cam’s colleagues had been cordial. Even Amanda Reed had sought out her company, and seemed to like talking with her.
“Yes, it was fun.” She smoothed his covers before she rose and turned off his light. “Time for you to sleep, because tomorrow’s going to be another big day.”
“I can’t wait.” The white of his teeth flashed in the dark.
Giving him a last smile, she stepped into the quiet hall, closing the bedroom door behind her. She should go to her own room and get some rest. After arranging everything the past few weeks, she was tired. Tired in a good way, but still, tired.
I’d like it if ye came back.
His words tugged at her heart. Why shouldn’t she? She had only one more day. Twenty-four precious hours before she snuck out of his life. There’d be all the time in the world to sleep when she arrived back at the place she used to call home.
She swung around and marched down the hallway. Grabbing a warmer coat as she walked to the back door, she sighed with bittersweet pleasure when she closed it and took in the night.
The bonfire glowed with fiery heat, and the light flickered across the shadowed garden and loch. The night was clear, the moon bright above, adding its own light to the occasion. The crowd had dissipated, the parents taking their children home, but there were still many hardy souls circling the fire. Laughter rose as she slowly walked toward the party. Excited chatter from a bunch of women competed with the yodeling calls coming from a pair of boys by the water.
Jen couldn’t spot Cam, yet she kept moving forward, taking courage from his words.
The party won’t be a party without ye.
She caught sight of Tre, right by the biggest tub of drinks. He was better looking than Cam, she’d admit this after observing him during the last few days. His dark hair was cut close to his head and he did have gorgeous blue eyes. He was taller than his friend, if not broader, and he carried himself with a lazy confidence that would make most women swoon.
He didn’t appeal to her at all.
At any other time, in another life, she would have thought him the pinnacle of manhood. Now, though, she knew what she really wanted.
A slightly scruffy, sometimes surly, always amazing Cameron Steward.
She had him. For one more day.
Shivering with agony and also anticipation for what hopefully would happen later that night, she stepped onto the grass of the knoll. There’d been lust in Cam’s eyes when he stared at her an hour ago. Even with the other women circling in front of him, including the alluring Amanda, he’d only looked at her. Seen her.
A bright blast of bittersweet regret threatened to spoil the night, yet she wouldn’t let it. She still had some time. She still had him.
Where was he?
Threading through the crowd, she exchanged laughs and smiles and a few words with everyone as she canvassed the yard.
He wasn’t there.
“Tre?” She pushed herself to ask. Ask about her lover and open herself up to more teasing from his friend. “Where’s Cam?”
He waved at the boathouse. “I think he took Amanda to see the boats.”
For a moment, her confidence—in herself and in Cam’s need—quivered, but she talked herself out of the slip. He was only showing off his toys. “Thanks.”
Tre grabbed her arm before she walked away. “Ye don’t have to go find the dobber.” He grinned, the tease in his gaze making her smile. “Ye can have me, instead.”
“I don’t think so.” Laying a hand on his arm, she kept her smile firm.
“He’s found himself a lady.” His friend shook his head in disbelief. “Who would have thought Cameron Steward had it in him?”
She didn’t want to leave behind the impression she’d left Cam, or this had been a serious relationship. Not with his friends and colleagues, people he’d have to live with for the rest of his life. “He hasn’t found anything.”
“No?” A dark brow rose and he let her go. “I’d say ye and he need to have a chat. I know my friend and I can see what’s going on.”
“Nothing’s going on that’s importan
t.” She twisted her hands into a knot. “We’re just having some fun.”
He stared at her with suddenly hard eyes. “I’m willing to admit my friend has been into having fun with the ladies—”
“You see?” She kept her gaze steady on his.
“This isn’t that sort of thing for him, though.” His mouth turned hard, too. “I’d swear it.”
“You’re seeing something that’s not real.” She should leave this conversation, yet she was trying to make this right for Cam going forward. She didn’t want him embarrassed. “We’re only friends.”
“Friends.” Menace swept across his features. “It might be only that for ye. But it isn’t that for my friend.”
“I’m not—”
“And I’ll warn ye.” His big body loomed over her. “If ye hurt him, I’ll find ye and we’ll have ourselves a long talk.”
She stepped back from the threat, assuring herself Tre was exaggerating Cam’s emotions and also reminding herself of her grandfather’s plans to conceal her real identity. “I’ll go find him now.”
“Ye do that.” He straightened, his eyes cold. “Ye let him know where ye stand so he doesn’t get hurt.”
Whipping around, she headed to the boathouse. Perhaps she was being selfish. Still, this was Cam Steward. The man who lived for the moment and took every dare. Was it so bad she took from him a bit of pleasure? Was it so awful she took one more night in his arms?
The skid of the door had been oiled, allowing it roll open without a sound. She peered into the shadows, spotting the main mast lying on the hatch of the sailboat and the round hull of the longliner.
“Cam?”
No one jumped out of one of the boats with a grin or called her to join the party of two.
Silence echoed, the only noise being the gentle waves hitting the pilings and the rocks below the deck. Tre had to have been wrong about where they’d gone. She was about to roll the door closed when she heard it.
His voice.
“Amanda, ye know you’re a prettier lass than most.”
He had his rich voice on. The one he used to enchant as he told his stories. The one he used to good effect to lure a woman. The one he used to mask what was going on inside him.
Jen crept toward the stairs because she needed to see. See his body language, see the way he looked at Amanda. Then she’d know. Know whether her heart should break or whether what Tre believed might be real.
“Now, lass—”
There was a rustling. Of clothes.
Jen’s heart stopped and turned as cold as an icy English frost. Stopping halfway up the stairs, she lost her courage.
Another sound came. Kissing sounds.
Her heart thudded in her chest and pure fury whipped inside. He’d been hers. At least for one more night, he’d been hers.
Not anymore.
Her courage roared back, the inner core of her that burned turned into a fiery blaze of rage. Before she could stop herself, she climbed the stairs until she could see into the empty room. They stood together, Amanda leaning on the wall exactly as Jen had last night. Cam held her by her shoulders, a lazy smile on his mouth. The same smile he’d given her last night.
Not a special smile at all.
Not a lust meant only for Jenny.
Not a man who wanted more from her, even though she’d made that impossible by arriving in his life with her own agenda.
Slipping down the stairs, blind with hurt, she wanted to retch out her feelings before they destroyed her inside. The familiar clutch in her throat rose, tightening, making her gasp in silent distress.
He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth anything. Certainly not a panic attack.
She slid the boathouse door closed with a quiet, final snap.
“Jenny?” Cam kept his voice low so his other guests, sleeping in the bedrooms lining the third-floor hall, wouldn’t hear. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of letting the world know he and Jenny were together. But he knew his fair lady. Her English sensibilities would want to keep this private. “Are ye there?”
He tried the door again. No, she’d definitely locked it. She was inside. Yet his soft knock was met with only silence.
Was it only his stupid imagination that detected a smidgen of cold in the silence?
He brushed his growing apprehension aside. She had to be here, didn’t she? Maybe she’d fallen asleep waiting for him. Because she couldn’t be outside. He and Tre would have noticed her as they’d put the bonfire to bed and said goodbye and good night to the remaining guests. However, something his friend had said abruptly took on another kind of meaning.
“Did Jen talk to ye then?” Tre had stopped spreading the sand over the smoldering coals to shoot him a wary look. “And you’re okay?”
“When?” Cam threw him a puzzled frown. “I talk to her constantly.”
“Tonight.” His friend gave him back a frown.
“Sure.” He stuck his shovel into the pile of sand and shucked it on to the deadening fire. “We talked.”
“You’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
And he had been. He’d sorted his issue with Amanda without losing her friendship and that had made him happy. Figuring the conversation needed to be private, he’d followed along behind her after she’d issued a seductive suggestion. Once she’d made her move and he’d made things clear, she’d accepted his rejection with a smile and a flick of her lips on his.
His conversation with Amanda hadn’t taken much time, which he was grateful for. He’d never been good at long-winded discussions about feelings and whatnot. Although she’d tugged on his shirt to rile him and sneaked another kiss before she’d danced off, he’d finished with her in a few minutes. He’d figured he’d be on time to meet Jenny by the bonfire. Maybe catch that kiss she’d denied him earlier.
Much to his disappointment, she hadn’t appeared.
But hell. The woman had been working to make this house party the best and if she’d rather have his kiss in her bed, that was fine with him.
Now, what Tre had said clunked inside him, making his worry escalate.
Now, he wasn’t fine.
“Jenny?” He scratched the door. “Let me know you’re here and okay.”
“I’m okay.” Her dull voice came through the door as if she stood right on the other side.
A sliver of bewilderment speared in his brain. Why wasn’t she letting him in? Sure, the guests were in the rooms surrounding hers tonight, yet it would be fun having another one of their splendid adventures trying to keep completely silent.
“There’s no reason to be embarrassed. I’ll make sure to keep ye quiet as a mouse.” He let the tease linger for a second, but she didn’t respond. He leaned closer. “Can ye open the door?”
“No, Cam.”
His heart stuttered because her voice wasn’t only dull, it held a bitterness at the edges. “What’s wrong?”
What had he missed? What had Tre been talking about?
“Nothing’s wrong.” The words became muffled. She was moving away from the door. “I need to sleep, that’s all.”
That’s all.
His quivering instinct didn’t think that was all. But what could he do? He couldn’t very well knock her door down and alert his friends he was having a wee bit of a problem with his love life.
“All right.” He stepped away from the door, projecting nonchalance in his voice. “I’ll see ye tomorrow.”
She didn’t answer and he finally paced back to his own lonely bedroom. Sitting on the bed, he stared at the floor with blank confusion. His hand rubbed across his chest, trying to quiet the frantic beating of his heart.
Something had happened. Something bad. He knew it deep in his gut.
He wasn’t a man to take it standing still, though, when there were problems. Whatever worried his lass, he’d pull it out of her and fix it. It couldn’t be too difficult.
“You can’t fix us,” Martine’s manic voice rose from the grave, punching him in t
he heart and gut. “You can’t fix me.”
Throwing off his clothes, he climbed under the covers and stared at the ceiling. If he’d been a little boy, he’d have crawled up the stairs to Jenny’s bedroom and begged for a cup of tea and a cuddle.
But he wasn’t a little boy.
He was a man who tended to screw things up, not fix them.
Chapter 19
“Come and dance with me, Jen.” Robbie leapt beside her, his voice high with excitement. “I’ll be your first partner.”
She’d almost left last night. There’d been no sleep for her and she’d reached for her mobile phone several times, ready to call a taxi and slip away. But this party had been planned by her and the caterer came to her with all the questions. Leaving before she’d completed the task she’d accepted would leave one too many scars on her heart.
She’d do this for them.
Even though Cam didn’t deserve her love, he didn’t deserve her hate, and she’d made a commitment to him. Deserting him in front of his friends and neighbors wasn’t fair, and Robbie’s whole day would be ruined if she left.
“All right.” She grabbed the boy’s outstretched hand and ran to catch one of the dozens of gaily colored ribbons hanging from the top of the pole. A crowd of kids and their parents giggled as the ribbons went one by one into chubby, little hands and eager, older ones.
The small duo she’d found online started an energetic tune, the fiddle’s high notes competing with the deeper tones of the accordion. She let herself sink into the rhythm of the dance, the up and down movement of the dancers, the fluttering ribbons above, the rough grass below.
Once the decision had been made to stay one more day, she’d slid into a numb state, sitting in the armchair, the cold of the night surrounding her. When the morning sun had tentatively stitched a path across the wool rug and onto the bed, she’d forced herself to shower and pack.
She’d come to Scotland on a mission and she’d accomplished it.