Some Like It Scot Page 12

  She sighed. And kept lugging.

  They still had a train ride and a ferry boat adventure ahead of them. They wouldn’t reach Kinloch until after midnight. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Part of her hoped Graham could secret her onto the island and tuck her away, where she could sleep for a day or ten, then emerge when she was well rested, clearheaded, and had at least partially regained her agile mind and sharp intellect. She’d settle for sanity. But the business-woman who had spent years knowing it was best to tackle a problem head-on, find out up front what all the particulars were going to be, so she could hit the ground running, thereby creating the greatest opportunity for success…that woman wanted to debark from the ferry into the throng of MacLeod’s and McAuley’s and learn straight off what lay in store.

  At the moment, she was leaning—heavily—toward the first part.

  “Almost there,” Graham assured her.

  She felt like—and knew she looked like—a rumpled rag doll who had seen better days. Months. Graham, on the other hand, looked like a cavalier, devil-may-care clansman off to meet his band of merry men. He was steady, solid, always had a smile for her, and a supportive hand to her elbow or the small of her back. He was never patronizing, nor had he invaded her personal space unless no other option presented itself.

  He’d never once mentioned that each time she woke up from another doze or sleep fest, she’d been all but wrapped around him. Given her ultimatum at their arrival at BWI—was it only yesterday?—he’d had every right to call her on it. But he’d been the consummate gentlemen. Of course, he wanted something from her. A big something. So, it was imperative he treat her with the utmost respect.

  It was therefore intensely perverse of her to be feeling a little bit put out with him for not being more…whatever it was he’d been back in that limo. God knew she’d seen herself in the mirror in the ladies room upon arrival. She was hardly enticing. But…if the truth were to be told, she hadn’t exactly sought him out only in an unconscious state. More than once she’d been well aware of where she was, and who she was leaning on…and who was gently stroking her fingers after she’d “sleepily” woven her hand in his.

  Perhaps not the coolest thing she’d ever done, but dammit, she was embarking into a whole new world. She was not going to apologize for taking a bit of solace and steadiness where she could find it.

  She watched him stride ahead, her gaze raking him from head to toe, completely unaware of the crowds of people jostling by, her focus narrowed down to his shaggy hair, ridiculously broad shoulders, lean hips, fine ass—from what she could tell—and amazing calves. What red-blooded woman wouldn’t want to lean on that? Just for a bit?

  Once she’d gotten settled and her feet under her again she’d be fine completely on her own. Surely. She had to be.

  “Here we are,” he said, turning to her with that easy smile, and those kind eyes.

  There was absolutely no reason, none at all, why those kind eyes frustrated the ever living hell out of her. Where were those intense lavender eyes from the limo? Raking over her like he wanted to devour every inch of her? Where was that guy from her stress-induced—she was convinced—hallucinations? The one rolling her around on sheets of fine linen…pumping himself into her like the world was going to come to an end if he didn’t find that explosive climax between her thighs.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, looking quite concerned.

  She pulled to a stop beside him. “Yes. Why?”

  “You groaned a little. I know it’s been a long journey and we’ve a ways to go. Are you sure I can’t take that for you?” He reached for the rolling bag.

  She yanked it closer to her, like it was some kind of stuffed bear. “No. I have it.”

  He lifted his hands. “Fine, fine.”

  She blew out a long breath. She was being a bitch. A totally uncalled for, unfair bitch. “I’m sorry. I’m just—”

  “Tired, I’m sure,” he said, with sincere understanding, ever the solicitous one. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay. I’ve slept almost every minute since we left the States. I have no excuse. I travel all the time for my job. This is nothing.”

  He turned toward her, creating an intimate little circle, making her realize that people were staring and perhaps, just perhaps, she’d been raising her voice a tiny bit.

  “You’re emotionally exhausted, and your life is not the same one it was when you were traveling for business. It’s okay, Katie. Truly. Let me help you.”

  It’s the least I can do. He didn’t say it, but she heard it nonetheless. The perversity continued as she didn’t want him to be Mr. Understanding. She wanted him to tell her to knock it off, then put his hands on her face and look at her the way he had in the backseat of that limo…only she wouldn’t push him away.

  Man, she really needed some fresh air, decent food, and some time completely alone. She was losing it.

  “Thank you,” she said. Again. “I—why don’t I go check on the train situation?”

  “Why don’t you wait for the bags and I’ll handle that. You don’t have—I’ll need to be the one to do that.”

  Right. She’d forgotten. All she had to her name was her passport. And suitcases full of clothes. No phone, no cards, no cash. “Okay, no problem. I can do that.”

  Graham turned and secured the help of a skycap with a big cart, then walked back to her. “I won’t be long. I just need to book passage and get us transport to the train station.”

  “Do you—have you called anyone? Called home?” She’d been dying to ask. He hadn’t said a word, so she’d put it off. But the time to keep her head buried in the sand, or in sleep, had come to an end.

  He shook his head. “I will.”

  “Do you know what you’re going to tell them?”

  He stared at her for a long moment without saying anything, then the luggage carousel kicked on, startling them both. “I’d better go get things settled,” he said.

  She noticed no one in particular paid any attention to the man in the kilt. Not like in Baltimore. They were in Scotland. He was home. Not that there were many kilted men strolling about the airport, but she assumed it wasn’t exactly an oddity in these parts. Scotland. She hadn’t seen any of it, yet. She wondered what the train ride would be like. Would there be wonderful countryside vistas? Time for her to really regroup and settle herself?

  “Miss?”

  She turned to see the skycap gesturing to the moving luggage belt.

  “Do you need assistance there?”

  “No, no, I have it, thanks.” She wedged herself into the crowd that clogged the line along the moving track, wondering if they had to do customs again. “Never again will I travel with so much stuff.”

  The irony was that until she sorted out things at home, it was all her stuff. As in all. It would quite likely accompany her anywhere and everywhere she went—at least for the time being.

  Graham returned as the skycap was rolling their luggage-laden cart away from the conveyor belt. “This way,” he said.

  She merely nodded and followed. Once they were settled on the train, she’d talk with him. About everything. She needed a plan, and to make a plan, she needed information. Most immediately, she needed to know exactly what to expect when they arrived on Kinloch, exactly what his plans were where she was concerned, especially as they pertained to her being his guest. Where was she staying? With him? With relatives? In a hotel? Did they have hotels on Kinloch? He’d made it sound pretty rustic.

  Once all that was settled, they needed to talk about what he would expect from her in regards to the deal. What he was willing to offer her, and what, specifically, would be required of her if she agreed to go through with it.

  That was just to start.

  But it was one train ride. If she could get that much information, she’d be happy. She knew it was her last chance to have him exclusively to herself. Once they were on Kinloch, once he was home, all bets were off, and her standing would be far mo
re subjective. She had no idea how easily influenced he might be by his friends, or the people he was doing this for. She understood that. At least where the business dealings were concerned, she understood that. She used to make her living understanding that.

  As to the rest, to the personal part…she had not the first clue. She wanted it to be all business. But in their case, business meant marriage. How were the island folk going to react to the “business arrangement”? And how, exactly, was that arrangement going to work between them?

  She’d kill for her BlackBerry. She needed to make notes, make sure she didn’t forget to cover anything pertinent.

  “Katie?”

  “What?” she said, a bit distractedly. When nothing else was forthcoming, she glanced up to see they’d come to the taxi queue outside the airport. “Oh.”

  She turned to the skycap, who, along with Graham and the driver, had loaded one of the cute little traditional British cabs to the hilt with her bags, including inside. It was a small miracle there was room left for the two of them. “Thank you,” she said, automatically reaching for her purse, to tip him, only to realize, then flush a little as she had to step back while Graham took care of it. “Thank you,” she said again, humbled anew at her circumstances. It would be temporary, she’d already determined that. Some way, somehow, she was going to earn her own keep. And not just by signing some damn marriage contract.

  She’d call home. At some point. Maybe not right off. She didn’t want to risk anyone tracking her down until she was good and ready to risk being found. One thing she had concluded was they might cut her off from the family trust, but she had her own money—money she’d earned working for McAuley-Sheffield. It was a blip on the chart of what she’d been technically worth before she’d been carried out of her own church, but it was enough for her to start over. Or to begin starting over.

  It was a start, dammit.

  She refused to be dependant on Graham’s kindness and generosity a moment longer than she had to. She had two feet. And she planned to stand on them.

  So it surprised a squeal out of her when she found herself suddenly scooped up in Graham’s strong arms and carted around to the other side of the cab. She’d forgotten about the wrong side driving.

  “What are you doing?” she spluttered, as the rain she hadn’t noticed was falling, caught her full in the face. “Oh!”

  “Puddles. Deep ones. Mind your head,” he said as he gently stuffed her inside the backseat of the cab and followed her in. It was no limo, and though she scooted over as quickly as she could, they were all but in each other’s laps once he was safely inside and the cabbie had shut the door. Graham had to duck his head and slouch a little to fit.

  “Sure ye don’t want to sit up front here?” the driver asked as he jumped into his seat and closed his own door.

  “No,” they both said simultaneously, then caught each other’s gaze. And smiled.

  It was the first truly personal moment she’d felt that they’d shared since leaving the States—if you didn’t count the times she’d woken up snuggled next to him, hands entwined.

  Times she supposedly didn’t recall because she was groggy with sleep.

  She sighed a little, and concern caused those sexy little creases at the corners of Graham’s eyes to crinkle up a bit.

  “It’s no’ too far to the station. The train will be a lot roomier than the planes have been. You’ll be able to stretch a bit. And walk about, if you want. We’ll get something to eat after we get underway.”

  She wanted to tell him to stop taking care of her. Despite allowing her parents and Blaine’s to run roughshod over her life plans, she wasn’t exactly coddled in her day-to-day life. She worked. Hard. And took care of herself. Okay, perhaps not so much her living space, which was her own private suite in the family homestead, and it was true she’d rarely cooked for herself. But at work, she ran the show in her division. No one tended to her.

  But Graham did. He thought he had to, she realized. But he didn’t. She should tell him to stop it. And she would.

  Except it was kind of nice to think that someone would want to do that for her, just because. She’d done that for Blaine—because she loved him, and because, frankly, he needed a keeper. He had definitely been the skirt in the relationship. So…it was kind of nice to be the girl. Not so much pampered, as…tended to. Like there was some honest affection there.

  Business deal, she reminded herself. He needs you in good spirits, thinking kindly of him at all times.

  “That sounds pretty good, actually,” she said, realizing as she said it she was feeling a bit ravenous. Finally. Maybe getting to her destination country, truly in a place no one would think to look for her, had settled her nerves enough to allow the knot in her stomach to unclench a little.

  “Good,” he said, smiling. “I was getting a bit worried about you.”

  Business deal, she repeated to herself, while smiling back at him. “No need. I can—”

  “Take care of yourself. I know,” he said, and there might have been a bit of an eyeroll, but the smile was sincere.

  “I’m aware I keep saying that,” she said, “but trust me, as soon as I’m able I plan to practice what I’ve been preaching.”

  “I’ve no doubt,” he said, sounding as if he truly meant it. “In the meantime, I’m no’ patronizing you by being concerned about your general welfare. It’s sincere.”

  “It’s business,” she said, not meaning to say it out loud. Too late.

  His smile smoothed a bit, in that it no longer reached his eyes. “Is that why you think I’m being solicitous?”

  “I think it makes sense to keep the client happy. At least, that’s how I conducted business.”

  “I don’t generally have to concern myself with conducting business, as ye call it. I don’t have clients. No’ in the way ye do.”

  “Still—”

  “Still, when I say something to you, it’s because I truly mean it. No’ because I’m watching out for my potential investment.” He lifted a hand to stifle her protest. “I’m no’ being cavalier with you, true. But I wouldn’t be, no matter the circumstances. That’s no’ who I am.”

  “No,” she said, “I don’t imagine it is. You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve been swimming with the sharks, often under my own roof, for so long now, I forget there are decent fish in the sea as well.”

  He smiled again. “Shark bait, I presume.”

  She laughed at that. “Possibly. Okay, okay, probably. But I’d like to leave the shark tank behind completely. How are the waters in your part of the sea?”

  “Well, there’s one shark in particular at the moment I’m a bit concerned about.”

  “Iain?”

  He nodded. “I should have already called, gotten an update. I’ll try once we’re on the train.”

  “Why haven’t you tried before?” she asked, truly curious.

  “Honestly? I haven’t known exactly what I wanted to say. They’re all going to be very curious about how things went, and when I tell them, they’ll be curious about you. And…I suppose I havena’ wanted to share you as yet.”

  His answer surprised her. Made her feel all warm and glowy.

  “I know that sounds odd,” he added quickly, clearly seeing he’d flustered her a little, “but this whole escapade falls under that banner headline.” He lifted his hands. “Despite my sentiments where you’re concerned, I do understand your business-only preference.”

  “Graham—”

  “To that end,” he went on, talking over her protestations, “I’ll want to do what’s necessary to make your entry into and subsequent stay on the island as smooth as possible. Everyone will be excited to meet you.”

  “I was thinking about that, too. Maybe on the train—I think we need to talk, go over things, before we get there.”

  “Agreed.”

  The taxi lurched around a corner, sending Katie sprawling forward. Graham caught her arms and braced her so she wouldn’t pitch headfir
st into him, but once they’d regained their seating, he didn’t immediately let her go.

  She reached up to brush her hair from her face, which was only a few scant inches from his, she realized as she untangled the mess. Then their gazes got all tangled up, too.

  Her breathing grew a little ragged as the moment spun out a little longer, and a little longer still. His pupils slowly expanded, swallowing up the gray irises. Maybe it was the gloomy skies, but she could swear there was a tinge of lavender glow there, too.

  “Graham,” she said, surprised at how throaty she sounded.

  He blinked, as if he’d been jerked out of a moment, but when he straightened, to let her go, Katie instinctively put her hand on his chest, stilling him. There was no doubt about that lavender flash, as he continued to regard her in silence.

  “You asked…yesterday, in the limo. If I—if I felt something…different. Between us.”

  “Aye,” he said, his own voice rougher than normal.

  The sound of it shot a thrill straight through her.

  Ill advised, her big ass little voice shouted. Business, business, business.

  But there was another fledgling little voice, that new one she’d given life to when she’d stood up, literally in front of God and everyone, and staked claim to a new life. That little voice was a champion for a new life. And it was saying…tell him. Be honest. For once, be open. To new things. New ideas.

  New people.

  “I did,” she told him, and watched, as another hot thrill drilled her, when those eyes went to that dark, stormy, intense place. “It’s like…I can’t explain it. But it’s not normal. For me, anyway. It almost feels a little…out-of-body.” That was as close as she could come to telling him about the visions. That first one in particular. But they’d come to her in her sleep, too. Different visions, same theme. Same two people. Could simply be dreams. Daydreams…night dreams. But they’d felt pretty damn real. And more highly realized, more detailed, each time she slipped into one.

  “Does if feel as if you’re reminiscing about something that has actually happened?” he said. “Or is it more like dreaming of something you want to happen?”