Heired Lines

by Magan Vernon

  “She’s a brilliant girl; she would find out anyway. I’ll just speed up the process so she can get more items ready for the historical society.” Each word had my heart beating faster. Defending Natalie came to me as a duty. One I didn’t need to do, but it was the right thing.

  Especially when I was the one to muddy it up and tell her the truth before she found out for herself.

  “You made sure that she filled out the non-disclosure agreement? That she won’t go off and try to sell our family’s history or speak to the media regarding our past?”

  “Mother, I’m sure she—”

  “You did, right, Gavin?”

  I sighed, already done with this conversation.

  “Yes. There’s no need to worry. I think she would find this out on her own anyway. She’s really an ace. The historical society will be very happy with her work.”

  Mother started to say something else. But I was already done.

  “I have to get back to work,” I said sharply, letting her know this phone call was over.

  “Oh. Well, all right. We’ll talk later.”

  After hanging up, I let out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding in and unclenched my fists.

  Bollocks, between my mother’s bickering and everything else going on in my life, I needed a drink.

  Walking into the parlor, I looked around at the neat rows of porcelain and other items that had been tagged for the historical society. I went to the small bar, pouring myself a glass of whiskey from the decanter.

  I took a long sip, letting the burning liquid slide down my throat as I closed my eyes.

  So maybe I shouldn’t have adopted the dogs.

  Or said anything to Natalie about the family.

  I kept telling myself it was all for the best, but my head was spinning with each new decision.

  The best thing at this point was probably to continue to distance myself from the new redhead in the manor.

  It was a big enough place, so that shouldn’t be a problem.

  Now just to see if I actually listened to my own bright ideas for once.

  …

  I’d heard Natalie flitting through the hallway at one point, but I stayed in my office, the door closed.

  I waited in the room until my eyes were going to fall out from staring at the computer.

  Walking into the hallway, I didn’t hear anything, but stopped when I rounded the corner and found Natalie in the library. She wasn’t huddled over the large claw-foot desk, looking through books on Scottish ancestry, like I suspected.

  She was just looking up at the ceiling. Not saying a word.

  I approached her slowly, knowing I had just told myself I was going to stay away. But a girl being quiet and watching the ceiling couldn’t be a good thing.

  “Natalie, are you all right?” I asked as soon as I crossed the threshold through the open French doors. She didn’t move, her body completely still as she spoke.

  “Did you know that some of the most famous painters experimented with rolling drugs into their tobacco before they painted? Usually opium.”

  I slowly looked up to where her eyes fell. I may have visited the castle when I was younger and lived here now, but I never paid that much attention to the different frescos that decorated the walls and ceilings.

  “Do you think the artist here was on something?” I asked, catching the light from one of the chandeliers as it hit what looked like a child soldier. Or maybe it was just a really short man wearing nothing but a swatch of red fabric covering his naughty bits, and holding up a spear.

  I felt the vibration of her laugh before I heard it. My backbone stilled in response, but other parts of me definitely stood at attention.

  “I think most probably were. Without them, I wonder what some of the art would have actually looked like. It’s as if they needed the psychedelic experience to come up with the designs.”

  Leaning back on the desk, I crossed my arms over my chest. Focusing on the artwork instead of the woman next to me. The one I said I was going to try to ignore. “Is it true the Egyptians were drunk as well when they built the pyramids?”

  Her whole body shook with laughter, and I couldn’t help but look over to see her tilting her head. Just as I expected, that gorgeous smile lit her face.

  Fucking hell, why was I trying to stay away from her? The best parts of my day lately had been hearing her laugh and talk about history.

  “I never really studied ancient Egypt, so it could be possible.”

  “So, you know only about English alcoholics and psychedelic drug users. good to know.” I nodded, keeping my voice playful so I wouldn’t appear to be a total arse.

  “I’m starting to get to familiar with some English lords who enjoyed aged whiskey. Or at least I think I am. I always thought whiskey was more of an Irish thing. But I guess scotch is Scottish, so that would make sense,” she rambled.

  I froze as she finally looked up at me, her eyes widening.

  “I mean, maybe the decanters are just for decoration in the parlor, and I’m totally not one to judge. I was going through some items in there and noticed they might have been old. Then I realized ‘oh, aged whiskey is a good thing.’”

  She kept on talking, her hands fluttering as if her making symbols with them would somehow improve the words she was saying.

  I grasped her hands, ignoring the warmth and the way they fit perfectly in mine. “You don’t need to explain everything. I’m not here to give you a grade.”

  She opened her mouth then closed it again, her cheeks reddening. “Sorry, sometimes I get really excited. Obviously, I’ve crossed a few lines. If I go on too long you can just tell me to stop.”

  I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest as I remembered my words to her earlier and the promise I made. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Running my thumb over the lines in her knuckles, the small hairs on the back of her wrist stood on end, her body stilling beneath me.

  I sucked in a breath, my already aching cock now begging me not to stop.

  It took every ounce of strength I had to pull my hands back and then shove them into my pockets as I walked backward. “It’s getting late. I’m going to eat dinner in my room and head to bed. You should probably do the same.”

  She didn’t respond. Her eyes trained on her hands and her cheeks were as bright red as her hair.

  “Good night, Natalie,” I said as I walked out the door and made sure not to look back.

  Chapter Seven

  Natalie

  The library was slowly becoming my favorite place in the manor.

  Mainly because it was so easy to get lost in there.

  The beautiful, large room was filled with floor-to-ceiling golden inlay bookshelves and rolling ladders for reaching the top shelves of the book stacks. Or I could pretend I was Belle in Beauty and the Beast.

  And, if I was being completely honest, it was one of the few rooms that Gavin passed every day. I would get the teensiest hint of a wave and a nod when he walked by.

  Yes, he was my boss and made it abundantly clear nothing would happen between us. Coupled with the fact that there were times he could be an outright ass, but…

  Well, for starters, that ass.

  I wasn’t blind. The man was attractive. And he smelled amazing.

  Not like a college guy who doused himself in cologne or body spray so you couldn’t smell the BO and alcohol. But a subtle scent of clean cotton and a spicy, citrusy bergamot that was either his aftershave or the man just naturally smelled that good.

  Dammit.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head.

  I had to get a grip.

  Not only was this guy a lord, but he was my boss. He’d made that abundantly clear.

  Which was why I limited myself to fleeting glances as h
e passed by.

  But that didn’t mean I couldn’t focus on my work.

  Especially since I’d found out about the family’s Scottish heritage. Now I’d started seeing little Scottish influences everywhere, from the frescos of Edinburgh’s royal mile to the inlays of thistle and roses intertwined in different carvings and pottery that I’d found all around the castle.

  Maybe there would be some sort of family history texts in the library. At least that’s what I used as an excuse to look through the different books. They ranged from classic fairy tales to first edition novels that I was too afraid to even touch.

  But I did have to go past those books to get to some of the ones on the top shelf.

  Why did this family like to hide their Scottish heritage in plain sight? If they were going to display the paintings and other artwork, at least they could move some of their older books closer to the bottom shelves.

  Slowly, I pushed a stray strand of hair out of my eyes before grabbing onto the rungs of the ladder.

  “Where is the Dewey Decimal System in here?” I muttered, taking a few more steps up.

  “I’m sure Great Aunt Sarah had a method to her madness,” a deep voice boomed below me.

  I startled, jolting back and trying to catch my hands on the ladder.

  But as I looked down at the smirking man below me, my feet slipped on the bottom rung. The world moved in slow motion and as fast as the speed of lightning. All at the same time.

  Flapping my arms like a flightless bird without any traction underneath me, I twisted my body, hoping that I might land on something.

  And I did.

  A very strong pair of waiting arms that wrapped around my body.

  Arms that smelled like clean cotton.

  Opening my eyes, I found a pair of deep blue ones staring back at me. Gavin’s lips were so close that I could practically taste his morning coffee.

  Catching my breath, I tried to think of a way to respond or to move my body that had now turned into gelatin in his arms.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his words like a lullaby. One I wanted to curl into and listen to forever.

  My mouth went dry as I swallowed hard, still unable to move. “Yeah. Sorry. Guess I missed a step.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right? You seem a bit shaken.” he asked.

  Now that I knew I wasn’t dead, other parts of my body came to life, specifically the ones in my yoga pants.

  Get a dang grip, Natalie.

  First, I opened up to him about my dad, then the scarves for my mom. Now, after he said he wanted to keep things professional, I was fawning over this guy.

  This had to stop.

  “Yeah. I’m fine, totally.”

  Though I didn’t move, and he didn’t set me down.

  We were locked in the moment. My heart beat so rapidly I prayed he didn’t hear it pounding against him.

  There was no way I could stop gaping at him even if I wanted to.

  “Do you think you can stand, or does anything hurt? Should I call in one of the on-call doctors?”

  His heated stare rolled over me. He was probably inspecting me for a broken limb, but that didn’t stop the fluttering in my stomach.

  “I think I can. Nothing seems to hurt,” I replied, trying to hide the trepidation in my voice.

  He must have heard it and mistaken it for me being injured. He slowly crouched down until we were on the floor together. I didn’t let out a breath until I was sitting in front of him. My body still incredibly heated and fuzzy.

  “Wow, you must work out. I don’t think I’ve ever had a guy carry me like that. Well maybe my father when I was a baby. Wait, no, I think one time in college a guy carried me like this for a Shakespeare production I tried to be in. Then I realized I wasn’t an actor and the guy was carrying me only because he was trying to impress someone else on the set with his strength. And…wow…I need to stop oversharing.”

  He slightly cocked an eyebrow but didn’t say a word.

  “I don’t think I have a concussion, just need to stop talking. Usually I’m blabbing facts about history, not my own history, that is.”

  “Am I making you nervous, Natalie?”

  I tried to control the wave of heat curving through me, so I put my head down, willing not to stare into those calculating blue eyes of his.

  “I’m not answering that,” I muttered.

  He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something then closed it with a smirk, nodding toward the desk behind us. “Well, are you going to answer your phone?”

  Since I wasn’t on an international plan and just using the estate’s free Wi-Fi, I didn’t get actual phone calls. Mainly notifications telling me someone had liked one of my photos or another spam email.

  Nothing I needed to answer right away, I figured.

  “It’s fine.” I waved my hand, the vibrating of the phone against the glass tabletop now ringing in my ears. The device stopped moving, only to start up again, shaking the few papers I had scattered next to it.

  “You sure?” He cocked a brow, a slight tick in his jaw as his lips parted.

  It took everything I had not to roll my eyes or huff. He was right that it was going to keep going off. If he was going to stare at me until I checked my notifications then I guess the guy would know how uninteresting my life really was.

  Placing my hands on the floor, I hoisted myself up, making sure I didn’t shove my butt or any other body parts into Gavin’s face.

  I turned my phone over. There wasn’t a barrage of missed notifications about someone liking one of my photos. I had a video call coming in. The fifth from my sister Madison.

  “Everything okay?” Gavin’s deep voice boomed right behind me, and my shoulders tensed as I gritted my teeth.

  “It’s just my sister.”

  No way in hell I wanted to answer a call from her right now. She had less of a filter than I did, and I didn’t know what she’d say to Gavin.

  The call stopped, and I let out a slow breath, only to, of course, have my heart almost leap out of my mouth when it started ringing again.

  I’d always been the one to message her. But, with this many missed calls, something had to be up.

  A chill creeped up my spine and my vision blurred for a second as I tried to compose myself.

  I could have, and probably should have, taken my phone to my room for some privacy. But erratic urgency took over. I swiped to answer the call, holding the phone out.

  Madison’s face filled the screen. Tears stained her freckled cheeks, and she sniffed hard then widened her eyes as she stared back at me.

  “Natalie, why haven’t you answered me? And who is the guy with you?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Gavin, who must have gotten the hint and walked toward the door.

  But I wasn’t paying attention to him, because the words ringing from my sister’s lips were the only things I could focus on.

  The same look I remember on my mom’s face the day she got the phone call about Dad’s accident.

  My entire body seized up as her mouth moved on the screen.

  “Mom’s-scans-came-in. They-think-her-tumors-are-back.” The words came out in one breathless squeak.

  The world spun in slow motion around me as my eyes welled with tears.

  “It could just be scar tissue, which they’re going to check for in another scan this afternoon, so I wanted to tell you before we went in.” Her words were a blubbery mess, and I could barely hear them over the heavy thumping of my pulse pounding in my ears.

  I’d been working so hard to pay for Mom’s medical bills, leaving her so I could help.

  And now when my little sister and Mom needed me the most, I was thousands of miles away.

  “Do you need me to come home?” My voice cracked, the words sinking to the pit of my s
tomach.

  “No, Nat, it’ll be fine. You need to work.”

  “Are… Are you sure?” I blubbered, not caring that tears were now openly springing from my eyes.

  “Yes. I promise I’ll message you as soon as we get home, but I wanted you to know, okay?”

  I nodded, my voice now completely leaving me.

  After she said goodbye, I swiped close on the phone, my legs wobbling, so I steadied a hand on the desk.

  The warm scent of clean laundry and bergamot hit my senses before a pair of strong arms circled my waist, my back falling onto a hard chest.

  Gavin didn’t say anything as I continued to sob. He held my body like I was a teetering tree that could fall over at any minute.

  I should have pushed him away, but in his embrace, I was safe. Protected. Like a warm blanket during a storm.

  He didn’t say anything; he didn’t need to. My crying took up the silence in the room, echoing off the bookshelves.

  There were many different fantasies I’d had in my head about Gavin holding me, but this was definitely not one of them.

  I wanted to open my mouth to tell him I was okay, but every time I tried to speak, emotion would just overtake me again.

  Breathing was a struggle, even just trying to swallow.

  Then slowly Gavin’s strong arms pulled me down to the overstuffed desk chair with him before I could protest. Me, nestled on his lap as if this were just a common occurrence. Not that I was the crying, inconsolable girl.

  “Natalie,” he breathed my name. The radiant heat of his body washed over me, his hands now on my thighs.

  “Take a deep breath.”

  Breathe? Seriously? Did he not just see me gasping?

  And not for nothing, but I was currently camped out on the lap of the guy who had been avoiding me for days.

  His lips on my ear, he whispered, “If you keep trying to gulp air through your mouth, it’s going to keep coming out strangled. Take slow breaths in through your nose, count to five, then out your mouth, counting to five again.”

  I wasn’t exactly in the position—mentally or physically—to argue with him.

  So I closed my eyes, my body trembling as I sucked in a breath through my nose.