“I wanted to kiss you at the bar, but I didn’t want to be rejected in public. That would have shattered my ego.” He pushed up his sleeve. “Would you like to see scars from prior shatterings?”
She laughed.
“I’ve had half stitches, quarter stiches, and even a couple of French knots,” he said.
She laughed again, and then she quieted. “I’ve got scars, too. Lots of them.”
He shrugged, straightening his sleeve. “We all have them. Some are more visible than others.”
“Mine aren’t pretty,” she said.
“Hell, I wouldn’t want to get into a pissing contest with anyone over scars.”
The sound of his voice, the touch of his fingers, and lips, made falling into the swirling depths of his eyes too easy. Where would she fall next? Into his bed? Was that what she wanted? She knew what he wanted, but what was best for her? She pushed her wedding band up to her knuckle, moved it back down, then did it again.
He watched her play with her ring, and silence sizzled between them. After a moment, he kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you downstairs at seven. Enjoy the wine.” He left, letting the door close softly behind him.
Chapter Fourteen
In the library at Louise’s B&B – December 24,
AT SEVEN O’CLOCK sharp, Meredith walked down the hall toward the library, following Elliott’s raspy singing voice. “There was a lass, and she was fair, at kirk and market to be seen, when a’ the fairest maids were met, the fairest maid was bonnie Jean.”
The heartwarming sound put a smile on her face as she entered the brick-red room. When she saw him, she stopped and her heart did too. Standing before her, singing to an empty room, was a breathtakingly handsome man with the relaxed charm of one comfortable in his own skin. And tonight traditional Scottish dress from bow tie to Ghillie Brogues covered his skin. The blacks, whites and grays were the same three colors in his slightly graying hair. A Prince Charlie jacket hugged his shoulders as if the tailor had stitched it together while the garment hung on his frame.
When her heart restarted, it fell into an awkward rhythm.
Elliott took a slow sip from the glass he held, then he gave a cheeky smile—part grin, part serious. Wide, appreciative eyes spoke before words came from his mouth. “You look—”
“You look—” she said, butting against his words.
They both laughed, but her throat held tight, nervous tension. Instinctively, her fingers splayed across her cleavage, visible above the scoop neck of a teal knit, body-hugging dress.
“Amazing,” he said.
“Stunning,” she said.
Elliott held up an empty wine glass. “Or whiskey?”
“With a dash of—”
“Spring water,” he said.
He turned toward the bar, and while he mixed cocktails, she ogled him, doing what she’d criticized men for doing. But in her own defense, she decided there was nothing degrading in the way she looked him over, appreciating his hot and rugged physique, not lusting. Who was she kidding? Hell yes, she was lusting. And what surprised her even more was that she had those feelings while being petrified that she had breast cancer. Were her hormones screwed up or what?
Now that his back was to her, she noticed that the portion of his right leg showing above his walking boot appeared thinner than his muscular left leg. A jagged scar was visible between the kilt’s hem and the top of the walking boot. She cringed.
The sound of Louise’s distinctive footsteps announced her arrival moments before she entered the room. Meredith drew her attention away from Elliott’s leg and proffered a smile for her hostess.
When Louise’s eyes settled on Elliott, she shrieked. “You look divine and worthy of yer scallywag reputation.”
He raised his glass as if offering a toast.
Evelyn stopped in the doorway. “Why didn’t you warn us? I haven’t seen you in full Highland dress since that bastard chopped up your leg and tried to kill you.”
Louise straightened his tie. “And if he wasn’t dead, I’d shoot him then cut his bloody dick off and shove it in his mouth.”
Elliott’s face tightened, and a warning sparked in his eyes. “Not tonight, Lou.”
“That bastard died too easy,” she said, patting the tie in place.
He tossed back the remaining whiskey. “Let’s not talk about it.”
“You know how I feel about what he did.”
A vein stood out on Elliott’s temple. “You remind me often enough.”
“It’s hard for me to watch those I love live in pain,” Louise said.
Elliott tossed a splash of whiskey into his empty glass. “Enough. Let’s go eat.”
Evelyn threaded herself between the furniture until she reached Louise. “Come on, dearie. Let’s get our coats.” Evelyn looped her arm with Louise’s and together they walked toward the door.
“It upsets me to think what that horrible man did,” Louise said.
Evelyn patted Louise’s arm. “Let’s not think about it. Tonight is Christmas Eve. Time to celebrate, not dwell on what can’t be changed.”
Elliott rubbed his brow as he moved his head side-to-side, murmuring something unintelligible.
“We’ll meet you at the door,” Evelyn said before leaving the room with her arm still laced with Louise’s.
“I’ll help Meredith with her coat.” Before he took a step, he blew out a long breath. Then, with each swing of the crutches, his face appeared to relax. He tugged the mink coat from her hands. “You could make this easy for me and turn around.”
The lush fur settled on her shoulders. He swept her hair out of the way, placed a kiss on the nape of her neck.
“Don’t pay attention to Lou,” he said. “She’s never learned to back off.”
“The way I saw it, there were two people butting heads and sparks were flying.” Meredith brushed her arm. “I think one landed on me.”
Using the tips of his fingers, he skimmed the side of her neck. Her breath stopped as she tilted her head, leaned into him, and gave him access to the curve of her shoulder. His mouth covered the spot she offered with a warm wet kiss that left her tingly.
“It’s Christmas Eve. Let’s talk about us,” he said.
She turned to face him, breathing in his musky scent, gazing into his eyes. “I don’t think there is an us.”
“We need to work on definitions. When I kiss a woman and she faints—”
Meredith smiled. “I was light-headed. I didn’t faint.”
He chuckled as he pulled her coat collar up and tucked it under her chin. “My kiss turned you weak-kneed. Admit it.”
“Never,” she teased.
“Ah, my wee sweetheart.” He lowered his head just enough to sink into her mouth. She rose up on tip-toes to meet his soft lips. “You’re not going to change your mind about tomorrow, are you?” he asked, kissing the corners of her mouth.
“Hmm. I might be too weak-kneed to go anywhere.”
“If that means I get to keep kissing you, I’ll risk having to change plans.” He stole one more kiss. “If you’re ready, we need to go. A wine cellar tour awaits.”
“Oh. I forgot. I didn’t even check the restaurant’s website to see what wines they stocked.”
His teeth closed over her bottom lip. “That sounds like someone on holiday surrendering control. How does it feel?”
There was a sudden uptick in her heartbeat. She leaned back to gaze into his eyes. The dark irises were indistinguishable from the pupils, making his eyes difficult to read. “Scary as hell.”
He wiggled his brow and twiddled an imaginary cigar. “You have nothing to fear.”
Tickled by his antics, she gave him a smile that radiated from within. I’m in way over my head here. For someone always in control, always with a plan, she found letting go a bit like holding up her hands while riding a rollercoaster—exciting yet terrifying and not something she’d likely do again. The fare for the ride was too expensive.
Evelyn s
tepped in the room and grabbed her purse off the table. “That sounds like the Big Bad Wolf crooning to Little Red Riding Hood. Hurry, Meredith, before he has his way with you.”
“Evelyn calls you a wolf. You say I’m safe. I think I’m in danger either way.”
His jaw tightened. “In my condition, I’m not a danger to anyone. Now, can we go before James gives away our reservation?”
Maybe dangerous. Maybe not. But he had the word heartbreaker tattooed on his forehead. For all the common sense she had nurtured during her life, when it came to him, she suited up in a common-sense-deflector.
Chapter Fifteen
Christmas Eve Dinner at Prestonfield House
A CHILLED BOTTLE of champagne awaited them inside the car. Elliott popped the cork and poured the bubbly while David drove down Princes Street. They passed last minute shoppers hustling across the snow-covered streets, bundled against the cold. Meredith arched into Elliott and not just for warmth. He laced his fingers with hers, drew her hand to his lips.
“If the Edinburgh Wheel is still operating after dinner, we’ll take a ride,” he said.
She had never been on Edinburgh’s Ferris wheel but had heard the view of Edinburgh Castle from the top of the wheel was spectacular. “I’m a California girl. We don’t do cold.”
A small line formed between his brows. “You’re bundled up like you’re in Iceland. It was colder this morning when you went for a run.”
“Running’s different. My gear is made for cold weather.”
He tugged on her coat. “The creatures who gave their lives for this coat lived in the cold. You’ll be plenty warm.” He smiled, slow and hot. “If you’re still cold, I’ll warm you up.”
Even in the car’s dark interior, she couldn’t miss the blazing intensity in his gaze. He’d had her in his clutches the moment he said, “I’ll be the barman, Lou.” A brief touch, a sizzling look, an erotic scent covered her like a whisper soft cashmere blanket that had been heated in the dryer.
“Wear the coat tomorrow,” he said, breaking into her reverie. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Hmm. A heavy coat.” She tapped her nail against her tooth. “Are we going to a parade?”
A soft smile spread across his face. “No, it’s a surprise. You’ll have to wait and see.”
The vehicle stopped in front of the entrance to Prestonfield House. The door opened and closed as new diners arrived.
“Is there anything I should know before I go in?” Meredith asked.
“It’s flamboyant,” Elliott said.
“That’s an understatement,” Evelyn said.
Meredith walked into the lobby of the boutique hotel and gasped. “I’ve just stepped out of black and white Kansas into Oz.” Brocade and velvet walls served as a backdrop for a room full of rich and colorful art and antiques.
“Have we ventured into the seventeenth century?” she asked in a hushed voice, wide-eyed.
“Opulent and quirky. Reminiscent of Liberace,” Evelyn said.
Louise fluttered across the room in a flowing skirt. “Look,” she pointed. “That’s a late Regency console table.” Affectionately, she rubbed her hand across the smooth surface. “Cameron is always adding new pieces. I don’t know where he finds them, and he won’t share his source. Why is that?”
“I wouldn’t give up my source either.” Meredith glanced up at the elaborate staircase. “What are the guestrooms like? Have any of you stayed here?”
“A couple of times last year while Lou was renovating.” Elliott nodded toward a man walking in their direction. “Here comes Cameron, the owner. He’ll show you a room, too, if one’s available.”
“Louise, Evelyn, Merry Christmas.” The restaurateur air-kissed their cheeks. “Ye’ both look ravishing.” Then he turned toward Elliott and Meredith, “Not so sure about this old boy, but he has fantastic taste in American women.” He kissed Meredith’s hand. “California? Eh?”
“How—” Meredith smiled. “Louise must have told you.”
“I cannot lie. And yer as beautiful as she said.”
He pointed at Elliott’s leg. “You’ve been cut on again.”
“For the last time,” Elliott said.
“Only if ye’ listen to yer doctors, and judging from the fact that ye’re not in a wheelchair, I’d be willing to wager ye’ll have another surgery within six months.” Cameron turned to Louise and Evelyn. “Willing to wager?”
“Not a chance,” Evelyn said.
Cameron laughed, then quickly sobered. “I was heartbroken to hear about yer father.”
A shadow crossed Elliott’s face. “It was a shock.”
Cameron squeezed Elliott’s shoulder in a tender way that said more than words. “And I heard Kit’s been living at the MacKlenna estate for the last three months. Maybe I’ll see her soon.”
Louise put her hands on her hips. “I doubt it. We haven’t even seen her, and ye’ know how much she loves shopping in Edinburgh. We thought for sure—”
“She’s living in seclusion,” Elliott interrupted, “and we need to respect her privacy.”
“Kit’s too social to stay secluded,” Louise said. “I bet we see her before spring.”
Elliott rolled his eyes.
Cameron turned toward Meredith. “What brings ye’ to Edinburgh?”
“She’s digging through the archives for state secrets,” Elliott said, snugging his hand into her coat collar, gently massaging her neck.
Cameron’ laughter rumbled through the foyer. “If ye’ find any, please share.” He took her arm. “I’ll escort ye’ to the Rhubarb, and ye’ can tell me where in California ye’re from.”
“Napa,” she said.
“The Wine Country?” His eyes grew large with excitement. “Never been there, but it’s on my list of places across the pond to visit.” When they reached their table he said, “Here comes yer server. I’ll leave ye’ in her capable hands.”
A buxom blonde appeared and took their orders. A few minutes later, everyone settled in with drinks.
Louise swatted Elliott’s arm. “Ye’ll never change.”
He rubbed his elbow, looking annoyed. “What the hell was that for?”
“Ye’re sitting at the table with three women and ye’re drooling over Miss Germany.” Louise rolled her eyes. “Ye’re such a boob man.”
Elliott eased back in his chair and sipped his drink. “I’m observant.”
“Pish. You’ve never dated less than a D-cup woman in yer life.” Evelyn pointed her finger at him. “Ye’ even hit on Louise all those years ago.”
“I didn’t know she didn’t date men.” Elliott recrossed his legs and fiddled with his ghillie brogues laces. Louise and Evelyn both laughed. Meredith cringed but anchored a smile into place. It remained there during dinner, frozen.
D-cup women. If that’s his preference, why is he interested in me?
Waiters approached the table and removed the dishes, then after they had cleared everything away, the waitress brought a bottle of champagne. Elliott took the opened bottle from her. “Thank you, m’dear. I’ll pour.”
“Champagne. This is special.” Louise directed her comment to Meredith. “He never buys champagne.”
“I never had to. This was Grandda’s purview.” Elliott poured about two fingers worth of the sparkling wine into each of four tall, champagne-fluted glasses and passed them around the table. “Tis time for a wee toast.” He quieted a moment, appearing deep in thought. Then said, “Thank you for joining me tonight and thank you for making this Christmas Eve special.”
They clinked glasses, saying, “Merry Christmas.”
Elliott set his glass aside, dug into his silver-mounted, cantle-top sporran, and removed three small boxes. One wrapped in emerald-colored paper, another sapphire, and the third, a deep ruby. He handed the green box to Evelyn. “This matches your eyes.” The blue one he handed to Lou, saying, “And this one matches yours.”
Then he turned toward Meredith. “This doesn’t matc
h your eyes, but it matches your passion, not just for your winery but for something much deeper. Merry Christmas, m’lovely.”
When Meredith didn’t take the box, he opened her hand and clasped her fingers around the small package.
“I can’t take this,” she said quietly, praying she didn’t offend him.
Evelyn held up a pair of emerald earrings. “These are beautiful.”
Heat rushed through Meredith’s body, and hot sweat broke out under her breasts. Damn. She didn’t bargain for this.
Louise unwrapped her box, shrieked with excitement, then held up a pair of sapphire earrings. “Elliott, you shouldn’t have done this.” Then she giggled. “But I’m so glad you did.”
“Open yers, Meredith,” Evelyn said.
Meredith pressed her hand against her chest and leaned forward. “I can’t accept this gift.”
Louise waved her ring clad fingers. “Of course you can. Open the box.”
Meredith turned toward Elliott and pleaded with her eyes.
He squeezed her hand. “This comes with no expectation.”
“When a man gives a woman gifts, there’re always expectations,” she said.
He steepled his hands and tapped his forefingers against his lips, thinking. Then: “Wear it tonight and return it in the morning. Consider it on loan.”
Against her better judgment, she opened the box. Her next breath caught in her throat. Inside was a ruby, art deco stick pin in a white gold setting. “It’s exquisite.”
“I thought you’d like it. Put it on.”
Her hand wouldn’t stop shaking long enough to unclasp the hook. Elliott’s warm fingers slipped around hers. “Let me. I’ve been thinking of doing this since you walked into the library in this stunning dress.” He fished the stickpin through the fabric and Meredith’s nipple hardened as his knuckles brushed her breast. He clasped the hook and slowly withdrew his fingers, taking her breath with him. Elliott rubbed the knuckle that had touched her skin across his bottom lip.
“Beautiful. Just like you.”
Chapter Sixteen
The Last MacKlenna Page 9
