Can't Stop the Feeling: Romantic Comedy (Sinclair Sisters Trilogy Book 2)

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

  “Aye, oh. I’d like an explanation.”

  She eyed the bedroom door.

  “Don’t even think about running,” Duncan said. “I’ve locked us in and taken your key.”

  “Do you realise how wrong that is?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “As wrong as running out on me when I wasn’t here to stop it happening?”

  There was no other option but to brazen it out. “We both know this situation is going nowhere.”

  “What situation?”

  “You and me. Our…romance. The sensible decision was to cut ties and let us both start anew.”

  “Sensible?” A muscle on his jaw ticked.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you no’ think it might be a good idea to ask me if I thought this thing between us was going nowhere too?”

  The water bottle shook in her hands, and she couldn’t look at him. “I did.”

  ***

  Duncan took the bottle from her and placed it back on the bedside table. She was trembling hard, and it took all his willpower not to pull her into his arms. What a mess she’d gotten herself into.

  “When did you ask me this?”

  She flicked an agony-filled glance in his direction. “The night before you left.”

  He went over their conversation in his mind, finding the point where he’d messed up.

  What I want to know is, do you think you could ever love someone other than Fiona?

  Why would you ask me something like that? Ask another question—one I can answer.

  He’s been an idiot. Again.

  “Oh, Donna,” he said on a sigh. “Will I ever get things right with you?”

  Her face turned back to his, but she didn’t ask the question in her eyes.

  “When I told you not to ask me if I could love again, it was because I was worried about scaring you off.”

  “What?” she whispered as her eyes went wide.

  He tucked her bed-tousled hair behind her ear. “I knew I was falling in love with you, and I wanted to give you time to, maybe, fall in love with me too before I told you.” He snorted. “I’m under no illusions that I’m any sort of catch. I come with a boatload of issues, a house that sucks money and needs to be maintained for eternity, and a reputation in the art world that can sometimes make demands on me and gets in the way of life. I thought that after you’d seen the way I struggled to get over Fiona’s death, you would think I wasn’t worth the effort. And the truth is, Angel, I’m not. But I wanted you for myself anyway.”

  He saw a whole gamut of emotions flash across her face—hope, joy, fear, worry. He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  She took a deep breath. “You’re over Fiona’s death?”

  It wasn’t the first thing he’d expected her to ask. “Aye.” He held up his bare left hand. “I gave her back her ring. Those promises were fulfilled. It’s time to make new ones. With someone else. With you.”

  She gasped and searched his eyes. “You’re falling in love with me?”

  “No.” He shook his head, quickly adding before she could misunderstand and do something else daft that he’d have to sort out, “I’ve fallen in love with you. It’s already happened. It’s a done deal as far as I’m concerned.”

  She trembled under his touch. “Duncan?”

  “I don’t know when it happened,” he told her softly, wanting everything out in the open between them. “It came on me slowly, and it took me a while to realise what the feelings were. That was because it was different from what I’d experienced with Fiona.”

  “Oh,” her whole body became taut and she looked away from him.

  He was screwing it up again. “No. Not oh.” He gently clasped her chin and angled her face to make her look at him. “I said different, not less. The love I had for Fiona was a gentle thing. It’s hard to describe, and I’m rubbish at this, but I’m going to try. So don’t freak out if I get it wrong.”

  She nodded.

  “Fiona didn’t need me the way you do. She needed someone to support her decisions, to think they were as important as she did, and to indulge her dreams. She needed a man who shared the power with her, and who hung back when she was sorting things out for herself. I loved those things about her, and I loved that our sex life was always a battle of wills.

  “With you, it’s different, but more intense than it was with Fiona. I don’t know if that’s because her death changed me into a rougher man, or because we’re just two different people who relate to each other in a way that’s unique for us.

  “You need a man who’ll protect that soft heart of yours from those who’d take advantage of it, someone who’ll give you the courage and self-confidence to see how truly amazing you are. You need a man to take control in the bedroom, and to step in when needed outside of it, to ensure that you don’t get hurt. I can be that man for you. I know I can. If you’ll give me a chance.”

  “Oh Duncan, I hear what you’re saying, but I’m not Fiona. And you said it yourself, she’s the love of your life.”

  “No, you’re not Fiona,” he told her. “You never will be—and listen carefully—I don’t want you to be. Fiona wasn’t the love of my life. She was the love of my youth, of the man I was. You are the love of my adulthood, of the man I’ve become. I thought my heart had been buried along with her, but I was wrong. It was still in there, being put back together, piece by piece, each day that you were patient with me. I know who you are, and I want you exactly the way you are.” He smiled ruefully. “Although, if you could stop lying to me, that would be greatly appreciated.”

  Her eyes welled up and a tear slid down her cheek.

  “Now you know how I feel. The question is”—Duncan took a deep breath—“can you love me back?”

  ***

  There was only one answer to that question. Duncan captured her heart the moment she’d held him on the driveway on that cold spring night. She wasn’t a woman to second-guess people when they told her things, and she saw the truth in his eyes as he lay his feelings before her. If he could take a chance on having his heart broken again, then she could take a chance on him.

  “Yes.” Donna got up onto her knees, clasped Duncan’s shocked face, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Yes,” she said again. “I’ve loved you since that night on the drive. Maybe even before that.”

  He clasped her hips and frowned. “Are you sure? There’s no taking it back mind. So make sure you’re certain.”

  “I have never been more certain of anything in my life.”

  He let out a little growl, clasped the back of her head, and slammed his mouth over hers. The kiss was untamed, much like the man.

  When he broke away, it left them both panting. “So,” he said, “there’ll be no more talk of you leaving me?”

  “No.” She kissed him again.

  It took a little longer for him to stop this kiss and she moaned her complaint when he did. “No’ so fast. You’re still in trouble.”

  “You’re kidding, right? Don’t we have better things to do than talk about the past?”

  “Nice try, Angel,” he said.

  She looked over his shoulder at the crowd of hand-drawn characters filling her bedroom. Duncan loves me, she told them in wonder.

  I can’t believe you didn’t see it coming, Hermione said. I’ve known for years.

  Gandalf the White nodded. Any fool could see it in the man.

  I’m glad I don’t have to kill him, Katniss said. I might kill a lot of people, but I don’t actually enjoy it.

  If you’re really good, Master might give you your freedom, Dobby said.

  Oh, I plan to be really, really good, Donna told the house-elf. But probably not in the way Dobby meant.

  Eww! Hermione snapped. Do you mind? We’re PG-rated characters!

  Well done, darling, Harry Potter’s mother said. I knew it would all work out.

  We need cake! Molly beamed at her before running off. I’ll get one star
ted, she called over her shoulder.

  “Donna? Are you listening to me?” Duncan said.

  She looked into his handsome face and smiled. “No, I was telling my imaginary friends that you’d come to your senses.”

  His smile was a thing of beauty. “Aye, I might have at that, but that doesn’t mean we don’t still have to deal with the ball situation, and the lying, and the talent you’ve been hiding, and the fact you roped your sisters and the cook into conning me, and—”

  “Shut up and kiss me,” Donna demanded, then blushed at her audacity.

  He grinned at her. “I can do better than that. You’d best tell your friends to leave, or they’re going to get an eyeful.”

  “Is that right?” she asked as he lowered her back into the bed.

  “Oh, that’s definitely right.”

  As he took her mouth in a passionate kiss, Donna opened one eye and peeked behind him. Everyone but Ron had gone. He stood grinning at her, taking it all in, until his mother appeared in a flash, hit him with a wooden spoon and dragged him off by his ear.

  With their exit, Donna closed her eye again and lost herself in the kiss of the man who loved her.

  Epilogue

  Four months later

  Fighting the urge to vomit, Donna paced their Glasgow apartment, her palm flat against her stomach. “I can’t do it,” she told her husband.

  “Of course you can. You married me, so you can do anything.” He winked at her from where he was sitting at the breakfast bar, waiting for Grace to dish up their food.

  If Grace hadn’t moved to the city with them, they would have died of starvation before the new school term even started.

  “He’s right,” Grace said as she dished out bacon and omelettes.

  “As usual,” Duncan said into his coffee mug.

  “I don’t know about that, but he’s right about you being able to do this. You have talent and passion, go make something of your life.” Grace smiled encouragingly.

  “I can’t. Everyone will think the only reason I got a place at the art school was that I married one of the tutors.” It was mortifying. She pointed at Duncan. “I should never have let you talk me into a quickie wedding.”

  “Too late now.” He was unrepentant as he dug into his food. “And don’t think you can get out of the honeymoon either. I’ve paid for it, and as soon as the term ends, we’re flying out of here.”

  “I didn’t need to get married or have a honeymoon. You’ve done all that before, and I was happy to live in sin.”

  “But I wasn’t. It’s done. Suck it up.”

  That was her husband—oozing compassion and tact.

  “Even if everyone does think you got the place because of Duncan,” Grace said. “They’ll soon change their minds once they see your drawings.”

  “That’s what I told her,” Duncan said.

  “No”—Donna smacked him on the back of the head as she passed—“you said to pay no attention to what people said because you wouldn’t have married someone with no talent.”

  “Same thing.” He flashed that grin that made her melt inside.

  “It will be a disaster,” she said as she continued pacing. “I’m too old to be a student.”

  “There will be all ages there, plenty of them older than you,” Duncan said.

  “I need cake.” She stalked towards the kitchen.

  Grace smacked her away with her spatula. “You’re not getting cake for breakfast. Sit down and eat your omelette.”

  Her phone rang on the coffee table. She picked it up and looked at the screen. “I can’t deal with this right now.” She tossed the phone to Duncan who snatched it out of the air.

  “Duncan,” he barked when he answered. “No. I won’t tell the board they’re being unreasonable about the ball. If you want to raise money for Fiona’s cancer foundation, you must abide by the decisions of the mansion trust and board. They run the mansion and the charity.” He paused and then burst out laughing. “That doesn’t work on me. You can whine on about every sick kid and broken animal in Scotland, but it won’t get you anywhere. You’re talking to the wrong Stewart.” He hung up. “Bloody Flora,” he muttered.

  He reached for his own phone and dialled. “Janine?” he said to his lawyer. “Shut that crap down with the Women’s Institute. They either run a nice civilised ball that’s overseen by the board of trustees or they don’t get in at all.” He paused to listen. “Aye, I’ll tell her.”

  He hung up and smiled at Donna. “Janine said good luck for your first day.”

  Donna groaned as she stalked to the large bay window overlooking the city. They’d bought a large apartment at the top of a Victorian tenement on Garnet Hill, near the art school. She’d thought she would miss the countryside of Kintyre, but she loved being in the city. Of course, she had the best of both worlds because they’d kept the carriage house for their personal use and signed over the mansion to a trust that ran it as a charity to raise money for cancer patients in Fiona’s name.

  She wished she were in the carriage house right now, losing herself in a good book, instead of walking into art college for the first day of a degree course.

  Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and Duncan’s chin rested on her head. “You owe me,” he said. “You’re still paying off your debt for all that lying and scheming you did months ago.”

  Which reminded her. “When, exactly, is that debt going to be paid?”

  “I’ll let you know.” He squeezed her tight. “Come on. I’ll walk you to school.”

  “That sounds so wrong.” She turned in his arms. “I’ll only go if you give me a kiss.”

  “And that’s my cue to leave,” Grace announced. “I’ll see you both at dinner.”

  As Grace left the room, Duncan pressed a gentle kiss to her lips while staring into her eyes. “Have I told you how much I like our new sofa?”

  “No.” She glanced at the huge, cream coloured sofa behind him.

  “You would look great bent over the arm of it, while I took you from behind.”

  She sucked in a breath, her body rushing ahead of her brain, getting ready for him to do whatever he pleased. “Is that right? And what if I say no?”

  His eyes darkened. “Angel, you know you can always say no to me.”

  And then he kissed her, taking away her first-day nerves once and for all.

  More Books from Janet

  READ ON FOR AN EXCERPT FROM RAGE

  (which features all of the Sinclair sisters)

  But first…

  Thank you for reading my work.

  If you enjoyed it, I hope you’ll write a review.

  For information about upcoming books sign up to receive my newsletter.

  Or you can visit my website and Facebook page for news about my books.

  Scottish Highlands (Invertary Books)

  Lingerie Wars, Invertary Book 1

  Goody Two Shoes, Invertary Book 2

  Magenta Mine, Invertary Book 3

  Calamity Jena, Invertary Book 4

  Bad Boy, Invertary Book 5

  Here Comes The Rainne Again, Invertary Book 6

  Caught, Invertary Book 7

  Sinclair Sisters Trilogy

  Can’t Tie Me Down!

  Can’t Stop the Feeling

  Benson Security

  Reckless, Benson Security Book 1

  Relentless, Benson Security Book 2

  Rage, Benson Security Book 3

  Ransom, Benson Security 4

  Other Books

  Mad Love, London Book 1

  Laura’s Big Break, London Book 2

  Action

  EXCERPT FROM RAGE

  BENSON SECURITY 3

  The village of Arness, Scotland

  Isobel Sinclair should have contacted the authorities the first time she saw the boat sneaking into the cove. But she didn’t. She should have called when there was a storm during the boat’s third visit, and the crew lost some of their baggage on the rocky path up to Arness. But she
didn’t. Instead, she’d gathered their lost cargo, called it her own and sold it to help pay off her ex-husband’s debts.

  Which made her a thief, just like him.

  And her thieving was the reason she still didn’t call in the authorities the time the boat turned up in the dead of night, and there was shouting in the darkness. Or the time she’d seen evidence that someone had dragged something heavy over the beach.

  No, she’d never called the authorities. Not once. Even though she knew the boat brought nothing but trouble each time it snuck into shore.

  But she should have called, because the boat had come back.

  And this time, they’d left a body behind.

  “What are we going to do with him?” Isobel’s youngest sister, Mairi, stared down at the man.

  The dead man.

  “I suppose we could bury him,” Agnes, one of their middle sisters, said.

  “We can’t bury him here.” Isobel gestured to the rock-strewn beach. “Even if we do manage to dig a hole, the tide will unearth him in a day or two.”

  Mairi looked up at the steep, rocky path behind them, the only route down from the bluff where the tiny town of Arness sat. “We’ll never get him back up there. He looks like he weighs a ton.”

  “And he’s wet.” Agnes nodded. “That makes you heavier.”

  “Aye,” Mairi said. “Water retention.”

  Isobel and Agnes stared at their sister.

  “What?” Mairi said.

  With shakes of their heads, Agnes and Isobel turned their attention back to the body.

  “How do you think he died?” Agnes said.

  “I suppose we should look him over and see if we can tell.” Isobel didn’t like the thought of touching the man, let alone examining him for clues as to his cause of death.

  “Does it really matter how he died?” Mairi said. “I mean, it isn’t going to change the fact that he’s dead. Or that he was left here by the boat people.”

  “The boat people?” Agnes looked towards heaven and seemed to be counting to ten. Again.