Take Me Now

by Nancy Jardine

  “My most recent venture completed an order to supply all the small craft and equipment, as one package, for the water sports centre of a brand new Malaysian hotel. It’s one of a series of hotels at present being built in the South China Sea.”

  Her eyes widened as she processed just how many different craft she’d seen at some of the beach hotels she’d experience of. Her throat cleared and her breath whiffed out in a puff of conjecture. “Small venture, huh? I’m taking a wild guess here. Gale Breakers didn’t supply all the craft?”

  “No. Gale Breakers only manufactured a little of what was needed. I negotiated a good price with the other manufacturers and put a proposal to the hotel as a complete package.”

  Aela grinned; relieved his explanation of the word provider was legitimate. “So is that venture all done and dusted, then?”

  “I’m afraid not, Miss Cameron. It appears they like me so much they want more.”

  Nairn’s smile was as wide as he could manage, but his muscle spasm went undisguised as the bruising stretched. She empathized when his eyes flinched since she could see he was determined to control his reactions. The poor bloodied man was absolutely…enjoyable.

  “More, huh? I wonder why they like you.”

  His mismatched eyes crinkled again. “In fact, because of that success, I’ve already bid for another hotel chain who heard about my competence.” He didn’t sound as though he was bragging, just self-confident.

  “Competence, is it? You’ve got a big back to pat, Mr. Malcolm, but I get the point. So you like this providing so much you’re a sucker for punishment, and you’re looking for more?”

  Nairn grinned again, his arms cradling his ribs as he nodded.

  Aela returned the smile. “And what do you call this providing company of yours? Twenty Five and a Half Hours a Day Enterprises?”

  A hearty laugh rang out, though she regretted her facetiousness on witnessing the agony slashing across his face. It took him a moment to get his breath back, determination to complete the conversation very clear, his good hand splayed open in a warning gesture to confirm it. She waited, sensing he was building up to something she wouldn’t want to miss.

  “Sorry to disappoint you again, Miss Cameron. I was in a hurry to name it, couldn’t dredge up any great ideas so I called it…” His expression was apologetic. “Malcolm Enterprises.”

  “You never did!” She was aghast, her censure blatant, an upbraiding tone peppering her response. “Mr. Malcolm. That won’t do at all. It’s just so dreary.”

  “Point taken.” All Nairn could manage was a faint chuckle. His fingers soothed the ache in his ribs, and again she regretted her outspoken nature. The guy hurt, and she made it even worse. She determined to be more careful of his condition – later – but for now, she wasn’t quite finished. Not when he was so approachable.

  “One more question, sir.” Aela leaned towards him and boldly clasped his good hand, humour not even suppressed. “It’s a really big question.”

  “Fire away, Miss Cameron.”

  Chapter Six

  “Do you expect me to be an insomniac, too?” The question was accompanied by a full blown grin.

  Aela Cameron was full of sass. Nairn knew he definitely liked the woman as she picked up her pad and pencil again.

  “Just to finish, to be sure I’ve got your whole empire, Mr. Malcolm, can you bear with a few more questions.”

  “Yes?”

  Nairn hadn’t had such fun for ages. He couldn’t remember when he’d been so diverted.

  “All your enterprises are coordinated at your London office and warehouses, except for the boatyard here on Lanera?”

  “Not quite.”

  He watched her throat gulp, her eyes momentarily close and her pencil poise once again. He waited. Teasing this woman had great benefits – enjoyment for starters – and the anticipation of her next response. She didn’t disappoint. Her smile, when she looked up at him with fallacious, fluttering eyelashes, was barefaced.

  “So, you’re going to tell me. No. Hmm. Let me guess.” Her fingernail tapped her teeth as she deliberated. “You also have offices in Paris, Rome and New York.” She finished on a flourish, her expression a wide beam, and waited for him to clarify.

  “Yes, to one of those three. Am I so predictable already?” He couldn’t contain his mirth although laughing was killing him.

  “Tell me it’s Paris? The city of romance,” Aela begged. “Can you believe I never made Paris on my travels? I’m so ashamed of myself. Of never experiencing the romance of the Eiffel Tower, or seeing the Seine, the Rive Gauche, or going to any of the raunchy cabarets.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Cameron.” Formality of names was meant to create distance, but it was a dismal failure when his lopsided grin sneaked out again. “It’s New York. I’ve a very small office working out of New York which deals with bookings and orders for my North and South American venues.”

  Aela’s smile enlarged and she actually whooped. “Way to go! I’ve never been to New York either. Fancy that.”

  Her face sobered as she made another scribble before jerking her head up, a polite enquiry hovering, now the very picture of efficiency. “So, again I’ll ask, is that it? The extent of your vast empire?”

  “I think so, Miss Cameron.” He sobered too, remembering he was supposed to be employing the woman to do an efficient job; he wasn’t employing her as his entertainment for the week. Her beaming smile and energized eyes appeared captivated, though, so he couldn’t resist a little more repartee. “The prospect of coordinating all my enterprises, and transporting me, isn’t too daunting?”

  “Hardly!” Aela looked ready to rush out that very minute. “Can’t wait. I’m desperate to get you going places.”

  He was desperate to get going too, though not in the same manner as she was indicating. Back to business, he detailed the most pressing work to be attended to. “Contact my insurance company – details in the cabinet over there – and get yourself immediate cover on all vehicles.”

  Aela strolled off to find the information as he bent his head and forced himself to immerse in work that needed one hundred per cent concentration.

  After a while, his rib ache really bothered him. Wimping out wouldn’t get the work caught up, but his body wasn’t cooperating. Aela’s intent gaze was upon him, just a little bit of the mothering hen lurking there; however, the bulk was of cynical censure.

  “Mr. Malcolm, you’re a numbskull again. Your grey pallor has reappeared, and you’ve been rubbing your temples for the last five minutes.”

  “Are you always so frank, Miss Cameron?”

  Though he kept his face bland Nairn enjoyed her pert attitude, enjoyed it a lot. Aela didn’t even try to hide her cheeky grin.

  “Sure, I am. You might be paying me a wheen o’dollars, but it’s not nearly enough for me to be a toady, sir!” He couldn’t take his eyes off her no-nonsense walk as she approached him. “Degenerating into the blithering ass of yesterday isn’t the answer. Would you like something? Maybe a drink of water, or coffee?”

  She was right about the headache returning, though she didn’t realize that she herself added to his discomfort.

  “Coffee would be fine, please.”

  He drank his coffee and watched Aela’s little sips, her focus intent on the advertising brochures he’d given her. The chime of his mobile phone as it bleeped an incoming text disturbed his stares. It was a message he’d been expecting for a while. After scanning it, he wrestled himself into the wheelchair. “I’m going to rest for a while, Miss Cameron, before the great lummox that I am can’t walk, or work properly.”

  Seeing his barb had reached the mark he should have felt pleased, yet he felt irked, especially when her delighted laughter echoed around the room. “Tackle the enquiries on the answering machine while I’m away, please.”

  One-handed, he propelled the wheelchair out of the room.

  ***

  Aela muttered some hearty curses at the
busy phone lines. Embroiled in the complexities of one particular inquiry Nairn’s re-entry to the office stunned her so much she jumped up, her pencil pinging from her grip. Baggy safari pants, one leg unzipped to above the knee, revealed none of the tantalizing hairy legs she’d seen the day before.

  Not an improvement.

  She’d begun to get used to the muscular thighs, but it was marginally better attire for the office – she supposed. A short sleeved green shirt, with one button done up, covered his chest. She hadn’t realized that her feet had propelled her towards him till her hand cupped his jaw, appreciating the smoothness she found there. “Look at you! You’ve got no stubble.” When she realized her comment had blasted out, her hand rapidly retreated.

  “Thank you, Miss Cameron! I’ll take it as a compliment.” Nairn’s tone was so polite. “Courtesy of a neat little battery razor Ruaridh just brought for me which I can wield around my bruising with my left hand.”

  The imp inside Aela wouldn’t be quelled as she stared straight into his deepening blue eyes. “Guess your usual is one of those frightening cutlasses twice a day, sir?”

  Nairn’s eyelids flickered. Drat! The sexy wild highlander returned before he wheeled away from her and hauled himself into his office chair. She couldn’t help noticing that his bruises were more colourful, though the swelling around his injured eye was receding rapidly.

  “Ruaridh’s coming back to make us lunch. If you’re not too hungry, I said one o’clock would be fine?”

  His dull tone indicated none of the easy camaraderie from before. Mentally noting it she aped his manner thinking maybe his absence from the office, the shaving and changes of clothing, had taxed him more than rested him. Detached was okay.

  No, in fact, detached was better. Her nod was professional as she brought him up to speed regarding phone calls. A grunt of acceptance and a terse dip she realized indicated his approval, so she resolved not to be put off by his cool responses. “Brian called. His father’s still poorly, is responding well to his medication, and glad his wanderlust son has eventually returned.”

  That got her some attention. She liked that much better because she wasn’t used to being ignored. She waited for clarification, continuing only after his cynical smile had faded. A sober expression was again the order of the day. “Brian will remain available if you need to contact him at his father’s business number, or on his cell.”

  “Good.”

  She ignored his brief response. “Brian was very helpful. He’s given me handy hints on how to apply myself as your PA, and how to access all the relevant files.”

  Now she got the full force of his concentration.

  “He was extremely organized, Miss Cameron, as I expect you to be. If his father hadn’t had an unexpected heart attack then Brian would still be working for me. He had to go home and take up the reins of his father’s small engineering business.”

  Nairn’s gibe seeped in though she refused to be cowed. Holding his snippy-blue gaze, her update was frosty. “Brian also informed me of the handover period which is no longer going to take place. You can rest assured I’ll do my best, Mr. Malcolm, in all capacities, though there may be times when I’ll require patience to get up to speed with your business transactions.”

  Reaching for her already well-filled notepad, she flicked to the page with the relevant number for Brian’s father’s business and jogged it over on a sticky note. Nairn’s fumbling fingers touched her hand as he grasped it from her, but she was set on disregarding the sensation she got every time they made any sort of physical contact. A slight strain descended as she sauntered back to her desk and tackled more of her in-tray till Ruaridh beckoned them through to the breakfast nook for lunch.

  The platter of stacked sandwiches was devoured quickly, as Ruaridh encouraged her to talk about her recent travels. They compared venues visited by both of them, yet the strained atmosphere between father and son continued to be a trial. Aela couldn’t understand it. Ruaridh made friendly approaches – Nairn rebuffed the good humoured attempts his father made to include him. She wasn’t enamoured by some of the unsociable looks Nairn sent Ruaridh’s way, some when his father was looking and others when he wasn’t.

  “No, Ruaridh. I’ve never visited the Pyramids at Giza, far less Karnak, as you well know. That little thing called client meetings ran on too long, if you remember. I didn’t even get out of Cairo, unlike others of the party who literally jumped onto ship and went off up and down the Nile entertaining the client’s wife for days.”

  Aela winced. She wasn’t convinced Nairn Malcolm was a nice person. His continual snapping at Ruaridh seemed to bear out a nasty streak in him. The meal was over for Nairn though when he bowled over to the door.

  “Take a break, Miss Cameron, before you return to the office. Thanks for lunch, Father.”

  It was already obvious to her that Nairn only used the word Father when he was being super-sarcastic.

  Mid-afternoon a sound interrupted them – a loud clanging that reverberated for a few seconds.

  “That’s the front doorbell. Go check, please.” Nairn barely looked up from his set of figures.

  Rhona, a nurse from the health centre had arrived to re-dress Nairn’s chest wound, the local doctor having done it the morning before.

  “Good afternoon, Nairn. It’s been a while since I’ve had to sort you out with anything.”

  Aela learned Rhona had known Nairn since he was a young lad.

  “No need to go out, Miss Cameron, you’re not going to see anything untoward,” Rhona stated as she proceeded to lay out the necessary medical requirements.

  She gulped because she’d seen plenty of his untoward already. But hey! She’d quite like to see more – even though he was the prime contender for the Grump of the Afternoon medal. She looked over at Nairn, but he seemed focused on Rhona, his polite enquiry about her family answered as the nurse did her job.

  The wound was healing nicely, Rhona declared, but after checking his pulse she tut-tutted, it was far too fast. Was he taking the pain killers regularly?

  She watched Nairn’s eyes sweep towards her, his gaze challenging. “Yes, I’m taking them on a regular basis, Rhona. I’m not such a stupid macho idiot I don’t know what’s good for me.”

  Aela was furious with herself. She’d never before been inclined to blush about anything, yet this man had made it happen at least twice already. She bent her head back to her keyboard and attempted to ignore the proceedings in the room. Yet every belaboured breath of his provoked the very reaction she wanted to throttle as Rhona tended to his other minor scrapes and cuts.

  “And how are you coping with washing and dressing, Nairn? Since you can’t have a proper shower, that is?” Rhona asked as she jotted down notes.

  An extremely stressed silence followed. Nairn’s throat cleared. He sounded a bit nervous, his gruff answer so quiet it was almost indiscernible. “Ruaridh’s been helping me. Done a bit of shopping for things to make life easier.”

  “Really?” Rhona’s response was accompanied by a full bodied chuckle. “Nairn, lad, I’ve known you for years. I know exactly how independent you are. And how long do you expect Ruaridh to help you?”

  Aela was knocked for six when the woman turned to her.

  “As his PA I’m holding you responsible, Miss Cameron, for this man’s personal hygiene. I know just what he’ll damage if he tries to do everything by himself. He’ll either stink for days – weeks even – or he’ll break his good leg trying to wash himself in the shower.”

  “I’ll hold Miss Cameron to that as well, Rhona. You can be sure of it.” Nairn’s bold stare was relentless as his battered mouth quirked up.

  She thought she might keel over. Then she remembered she’d never fainted in her life.

  Rhona’s irrepressible humour lingered long after she vacated the room.

  Aela couldn’t face Nairn. There’d been no sense in telling Rhona she’d just met him, and it certainly wasn’t her job to wash her employer. He
avens! What a thought. All those un-bruised bits? She busied herself with the enquiry she was working on, but the embarrassed feeling refused to dissipate. It was still there ages later. Ages while she’d avoided even asking any questions. Or looking at him.

  “I’m going for a rest.” Nairn wheeled himself out of the room.

  His abrupt exit stumped Aela since he’d been in the middle of a complex set of figures he said were urgent for the following day. She tried to judge his mood, and failed. He hadn’t been angry with Rhona, had even seemed to accept her humour with good grace, yet what had brought about his unexpected decision to remove himself? Had it been because she’d ignored him for the last long while? She could already tell he was a man of moods. She ploughed on with her stack of work.

  Nairn returned a short while later but was in no hurry to talk. His rest had been far too brief for a recuperating body, so no wonder he was cranky. She wasn’t fussed, though, since small talk never interested her, and she’d more than plenty to do. In his absence, she’d decided it was the only way that she’d cope with being in his employ for four weeks.

  Hours passed.

  “It’s well after six, Miss Cameron.” Nairn’s declaration came as she typed up the final sentence of the urgent report; figures completed for it after his return to the office. “Do your first bit of chauffeuring and take us both to Mariskay. We’ll find somewhere for dinner.”

  She wanted to try the local restaurants. Sometime, yes, but right that instant Nairn wasn’t ready for such an outing. He was far too green around the gills and had been noticeably placing his good arm across his chest as he worked at his desk. Though how not to offend, since he sounded quite peremptory?

  Polishing up tact, she persuaded him there was plenty to use in the kitchen, and that she was capable of making a meal for them. Her foray earlier at breakfast made her certain of it.

  Nairn’s reply was tight. “I’ve organized my housekeeper, Kirsty, to be available from tomorrow for feeding us, but if you’re sure about cooking tonight, then, thank you.”