The Great Scot

by Donna Kauffman

  She wanted exactly what she’d been trying to avoid wanting.

  Emotional involvement.

  Which was when she’d gotten up and slipped on his shirt—so she’d wanted the scent of him on her a little longer, so what?—and wandered a safe distance away. Before she did something truly foolish.

  And thus, one-night-stand girl was born. She’d learned early on that the best defense was always an awesome offense. Being the first to rise gave her the distinct advantage of setting the morning-after tone. She could be cool, she could be unaffected, she could be blithely blasé about the fact that not six hours ago she’d had hot monkey sex with this guy. She could if it meant keeping her heart intact, anyway. Because if she let herself want, or wish, or hope, for one teeny tiny second, that things had gone a little differently, she’d be doomed.

  She liked Dylan Chisholm. She liked his complexity, his moods, his laughter, his intensity. She appreciated the tough choices he’d faced, and that he wasn’t a hundred percent okay with every one he’d made. Who was? She certainly wasn’t. She had enormous respect for the choice he’d made now, in coming back and taking on such a monumental task. She’d like to think she’d have done the same, but it was so far outside the realm of any part of her past, she couldn’t really know for sure. He made her think about herself, about her life, about the choices she’d made.

  But it was the very difference in their paths that held her frozen in that seat, clutching a stupid pillow, instead of reaching for him. She’d been able to divert, intentionally misread, or just plain pretend she didn’t understand what he was getting at back at the ruins. She’d expected him to take her nonchalant lead gratefully and go with it. She hadn’t expected that maybe he’d woken up with the same confusing swirl of emotions she had. Because to even consider that complicated things in ways she had no hope of handling.

  Until just now. When he’d taken matters into his own hands. Taken her into his own hands. And put an indelible stamp on her, so she had no choice but to understand exactly what he was thinking, exactly what he was wanting. And what terrified her most? She was secretly thrilled by it. Totally, want-to-jump-up-and-down, squealing like a Barbie, happy toes, thrilled by it.

  She wanted Dylan Chisholm. And, by all that was holy and truly incomprehensible, he seemed to want her too.

  So now what in the hell did she do?

  Given what had just happened, she doubted Dylan was going to sit idly by and wait for her to set the pace. No, he was going to go after what he wanted. And damn if that didn’t make a girl squirm in her seat, in the most pleasurable of ways. She wondered what Dana would say. For about a second. She knew exactly what her assistant would say. Go for it, you big dummy!

  She sneaked a peek at him from the corner of her eye. The play of muscles in his forearm as he shifted gears. The solid length of his thigh, which she happened to know was perfectly muscled. Restoring a centuries old mansion was apparently better than a regular gym workout. And it could all be hers.

  Temporarily.

  And for a price.

  Given how her secretly mushy heart was currently oozing all over the place, the price tag would be a hefty one. She’d get involved. Okay, more involved. Who was she kidding? And then what? Even if she stayed in Scotland to do the advance prep work on the next season when everyone went back to California to do the post production on the piles of film from this season, it would only extend her stay here another few months at best.

  Just enough time for her to fall well and truly under his spell, before having to say a tragic good-bye.

  She was never going to watch Brigadoon again.

  Erin came out of her fog in time to notice they were pulling into the service lot behind the hotel. Dammit, she’d wasted all this time mentally fencing with herself and hadn’t figured out what she was going to say to him. Fortunately or unfortunately, as it turned out, she didn’t have to.

  In the service lot were two of the production crew’s oversized van rentals. Both of which were spewing out a cluster of gorgeous women in a tumble of hairspray and laughter.

  “Oh crap. They’re here,” Erin muttered.

  “What?” Dylan asked distractedly.

  Erin sighed and glanced over at him. Yep. Glazed eyes. “You sure you don’t want to be on the show?” she asked dryly, while he stared in unabashed awe at the women as they continued to step from the vans. She made a hand gesture like a game show girl. “All this could be yours, Mr. Chisholm,” she intoned in her best hostess voice. “Twelve beautiful women, all dying to have you.”

  She already had her hand on the door. It was for the best, anyway. Took care of her stupid fantasy issues real quick. Now she didn’t have to worry what to do. Then Tommy was squeezing himself through the throng and suddenly appearing at her car door, flinging it open and pulling her out. “What is this?” he demanded, tugging the pillow from her arms and tossing it back in the car. “My god, you look like something the cat refused to drag in. Anyway, no time, no time.” He clapped his hands. “Listen up. What is this I hear about you taking off this weekend for Inverness?”

  “I’m still scouting that last overnight,” she said, not really lying through her teeth since she planned to kill two birds while there. “I’ve got everything covered here, don’t worry.”

  He dramatically gestured behind her. “Well, I think it’s quite obvious plans have changed. They’re here early and I’m not set up. I need you to—Oh.” He broke off when a sudden squeal rose through the cluster of contestants and they both turned to see Dylan swarmed as he got out of the car.

  “Is that him!” one woman excitedly squealed, starting a mad rush.

  Tommy shot Erin a quick, almost naughty wink. “Well, why didn’t you just tell me you were sealing the deal. Bravo.”

  Before Erin could open her mouth to—well, she wasn’t sure, to what. Lie, cover her ass, cover Dylan’s ass? Slap Tommy for even insinuating she’d do something like that as part of her job description?

  As the women swarmed Dylan, the petty, insecure side of herself reared its vulnerable little head and she decided he could save his own sexy ass. What she couldn’t do was let him tell Tommy he wasn’t doing the show. Of course, another ten minutes of being pawed by a handful of the most gorgeous women in the world, he might change his mind and solve all their problems.

  All but the one that made something inside her chest twinge painfully tight as she was forced to watch them touch his chest, lean on his shoulder, take his arm…and she was forced to acknowledge the twinge was rampant jealousy. She wanted to fling herself in front of him and proclaim him off limits, to loudly and definitively state that she and only she had the right to fawn all over him, thank you very much.

  At which point they’d all take one look at her and laugh themselves sick. And the worst part is, Dylan might have joined them. Well, no, he wouldn’t have, but far worse would be the look of “Sorry, what was I thinking?” he very well might send her way.

  Every rejection she ever faced as a child at Crestview came roaring back, as crystal clear as if they’d happened yesterday. Which was completely ridiculous. This had nothing to do with that. That was ancient history she’d long since settled within herself. But it didn’t stop the little knot of anguish from forming in her belly anyway.

  Then Tommy was in her face again. “God, he is marketing gold. Do I have an eye or what? But we have to get him the hell away from the women before he spoils them for Greg.” He clapped his hands again and raised his voice to be heard. “Ladies? Ladies, please, follow your handlers to the rooms we’ve set aside for you. We’ll have people in there to prep you for your first interviews shortly.” He turned and shouted. “Sebastian, did we get the hair and makeup people in yet? Where the hell is Tanya?” And whatever else he’d been about to lecture Erin about was lost in the ensuing melee of production assistants, hairdressers, and handlers.

  Erin was tugged away in the throng and the last she saw of Dylan, they were prying one particularly cl
ingy contestant from his arm. She ignored the wrenching pang in her gut, telling herself she deserved nothing less for being foolish enough to entertain even for one split second that this was going to end well for her. Maybe she should be thankful. Cut it off dead now, before she got in any deeper.

  Yeah, thankful. That was going to take a bit longer to embrace.

  “Oh, thank god!” Dana materialized from the craziness and took Erin by both arms. “You’re back. Where have you been? I’ve been paging your room for the past hour.” Then she looked past Erin’s shoulder. “And who the hell is the rock star over there? My god, you’d think these women had never seen a tall, good looking guy.” And then she was looking back at Erin and froze in the act of leaning in to give her a half hug. She leaned back and studied Erin’s face, then shifted her gaze to the rapidly disappearing Dylan, then back to Erin. “Oh. My. God. Him? Really?” She pulled her glasses out and jammed them on her cute button nose, lifting up on tiptoe to see over the crowd in the lot. “Score.”

  Erin grabbed her arm and tugged her around the side of one of the parked vans. “We need to talk.”

  “Sure thing, boss. What’s up? Wait, wait, first I have to know one thing.” She stared Erin right in the eyes, studied her for a long few seconds, then grinned. “Oh my god, you did, didn’t you?” She raised her hand in a high five gesture. “You go, boss.”

  Erin tugged Dana’s hand down and pulled her farther around the corner, away from the insanity. “It doesn’t matter. Listen. I need you to go to Inverness this weekend for me.”

  “But Tommy has me on Barbie Patrol twenty-four-seven.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “And I swear they gave me to this season’s psycho-drama-bitch. I kid you not, this woman has at least three personalities living inside her at any given moment. She’ll never make it past the first elimination, but mark my words, she’ll get her fifteen minutes worth. Ratings gold right there. Tommy is probably peeing his pants just watching her deliver the crazy. But for me? Not as much fun. I could do without so much crazy.”

  “Good, then you won’t mind going to Inverness for two days and scouting guys in kilts for me.”

  Dana opened her mouth to retort, then snapped it shut again. A moment later her lips curved and she clasped her hands together under her chin. “You wouldn’t tease a jet-lagged, seriously stressed out woman now would you, boss? Because, that would just be cruel.”

  Erin smiled despite the emotions still roiling around inside of her. This is why she loved Dana. “No, I’m serious. Tommy is having orgasms over Dylan and—”

  “Who wouldn’t?” Dana sighed. “Oh right. Not you!” She laughed, then immediately stopped when she saw something in Erin’s expression. She sobered immediately. “Uh-oh.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.” And she’d apparently put enough flatness into her voice that, for once, her assistant complied. “And now that Tommy has seen the women react to him, he’s probably already calling L.A. I need to find a new Prince Charming like yesterday.”

  “One better than him? With his own castle?”

  “Glenshire isn’t a castle, it’s—never mind. Yes, that’s your mission, Jane Bond. I’m sure you’re up to the task. Unless you really have your heart set on Barbie wrangling.”

  She saluted Erin. “When do I leave?”

  “Just as soon as you dive into that mob and keep Tommy away from Dylan. We were swarmed on arrival and I didn’t get the chance to instruct Dylan on what to say to our wonderful boss if confronted about the whole contract thing.”

  “So…you arrived together? Just this morning?” She beamed like a proud parent and touched Erin’s arm. “My little girl is growing up.”

  Erin knew better than to think she was going to stifle Dana’s enthusiasm for something like this, and only because there was absolute sincere affection lacing her every word, did she not strangle her assistant on the spot. Dana couldn’t possibly understand the tangle of raw emotions Erin was going through at the moment.

  “Just go do that for me, okay? We’ll meet up while your Barbies are getting their first grilling and by then I should have things worked out. I’d like you to leave tomorrow morning, back Sunday nightfall. That gives you two-and-a-half days to find Mr. Perfect. Oh, and you’ll be staying in a hotel I want to use for an overnight, so you’ll have to do a little meeting with their coordinator.”

  “Will do.” Dana leaned in. “You want I should casually knee him or something? Was he mean to you?”

  That was the other reason Erin loved her assistant. She was truly loyal and would defend and protect without question. “No, he was fine. There’s nothing to—just keep him away from Tommy until he can get out of here. He’ll be heading back to Glenshire just as soon as Tommy gets the women sequestered inside and away from him, I’m sure.”

  Dana held her gaze for another second and looked like she was going to ask another question. Erin was sure she had at least a couple dozen already on the tip of her tongue.

  “Please?” Erin added. “Now?”

  “Right. We’ll talk later then?”

  Erin nodded, though she had no intention of talking about any of it, and scooted her assistant back around the van, then took off the other way, ducking into the kitchen entrance of the hotel, and taking a back flight of service steps up to her floor. She whispered a heartfelt thank you to the merciful gods who allowed her to get all the way upstairs and into her room with the door shut and locked behind her without being seen or stopped by a single soul.

  She slumped against the door and let out a long, heartfelt sigh. By her calculations, she had at least ten minutes to take a shower, change clothes, get her entire emotional state in order, and be back downstairs in time for Tommy to be screaming for her when he remembered he hadn’t finished dictating his latest set of orders.

  “You look like you’ve been chased by the hounds of hell.”

  Erin let out a yelp and leapt away from the door, spinning around with her hand pressed to her chest. Only to discover Dylan’s rangy body sprawled in one of the stuffed chairs by the window. “What the—how did you get in here?”

  “A very nice hotel employee by the name of Amelia, I think it was, was kind enough to let me in.”

  “You can’t be in here. You—you should head back to Glenshire—”

  “And hide out there instead?” His grin was lazy and far too cocky. “I’d much rather hide here.”

  “Are you kidding? There is no hiding here.”

  “Aye, I know.” He raked his hand through his hair and let out a weary sigh. “Are all American women so aggressive? I was lucky to get out of there with my clothes intact.”

  “All the more reason to head back to Glenshire. You’ve created enough stir around here for one day. All we need is for there to be buzz that you’re in my room.”

  “Dinna ye think us turning up just past dawn in my car might have lifted a few brows already?”

  It was chaos enough in the courtyard when they arrived. She was hoping no one was really paying attention. Tommy had noticed, but obviously if he thought she was signing Dylan to be his next Prince Charming, he’d give her all the overnights she wanted. An idea immediately popped in her head, and she just as immediately shoved it right back out again. Because as much as she wanted to get out of town for a few days, a trip to Inverness with Dylan would be far more complicated than staying here. The very notion of a few days alone with him made her heart ache. Yep. Very bad idea.

  No, she’d let Dana take care of that trip and focus on keeping the peace here for the time being. Which wasn’t going to happen if everyone was gossiping about a certain Scot being stashed away in her room.

  “If it’ll ease yer mind any, I asked Amelia to keep mum about my whereabouts. She seemed more than willing to comply.”

  Erin silently thanked fate for delivering the one hotel employee who was loyal to her and Dylan in his time of need. If there was a hope of keeping the rumor mill down to a dull roar, Amelia was her only
one. “I’ve got five minutes, maybe ten, then I have to meet Tommy downstairs.” And likely deflect a barrage of questions about her progress with Dylan.

  Dylan stretched his long legs out and smiled at her. “I thought perhaps I’d avoid the entire mess and camp out here for a bit. I’ll be out of the way at Glenshire and out of the way here.”

  For a man she’d thought entirely too taciturn upon first meeting him, he’d turned into quite the cocky charmer. The very idea of trying to get anything done, knowing he was up here, tangled in her sheets, slumbering the morning away…Yeah. She’d be a total loss.

  “Why don’t I run lookout for you and we’ll find a way to sneak you down to your car. I’m sure the women are all tucked away by now, doing their interviews and being briefed on the first day of filming. Tommy really doesn’t want to have you in eyesight of them anyway. So you’ll be doing us all a favor by heading home. You’d much rather camp out in your own wing anyway, I’m sure. Or you could let me book you in somewhere else entirely as I wanted to do all along.”

  He rose with panther-like grace and intent that had her all caught up in staring at him, thereby giving him an edge she couldn’t afford. He was standing in front of her before she realized she was cornered. He lifted a finger and traced the line of her jaw. She wanted to think the energetic night they’d shared had dulled her reaction time, but it was more that he had her mesmerized with the look she saw in his eyes.

  Desire, yes. But she’d seen that before. Quite clearly, in fact, even with nothing more than moonlight to illuminate him. There was something else there now, something almost…playful, and affectionate. And confident. All but proclaiming that now that he’d staked his claim, he wasn’t planning on shying away from it. Which robbed her of any hope she had of finding the strength to resist him.

  “Dinna make me go, Erin,” he said quietly. “You’ve booted me from my own home, ye’ve taken over my world. The least ye could do is let me stay in yours for a wee bit.” He moved a step closer, let his fingers trace up along her cheek, along the outer shell of her ear, then down along the line of her neck, before slipping slowly along her collar bone. Never did he take his gaze from hers. She couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it. And while it might not be her life at stake, her livelihood most certainly was. Considering that was her life, she was in a wee bit of trouble here.