No way could Nairn negotiate the cliff staircase, so Aela deposited him at the boatyard, left him there to do a bit of catch-up while she nipped back to the castle and garaged the range-rover. Afterwards she taxied the floatplane around the headland to the quayside slip having done an even more thorough check than normal of the floatplane, to ensure no messy tampering problems. Nairn was totally happy to agree with that strategy.
As she rounded the headland, handling airplane controls again was so thrilling. Travelling had been a fun experience, but she’d missed flying so much.
With some local geographical information from Nairn, Aela flew the floatplane over the Isle of Mull, the birthplace of her grandfather, and further north over the Isle of Skye. Banking to the west took them over the Outer Hebrides, the flatter, more barren lands of North and South Uist a huge contrast to the mountainous Skye. Fabulous. Her questions were incessant but Nairn seemed happy to satisfy every curiosity.
A few hours later, she had proved to Nairn that she could fly his beloved floatplane.
“Okay! I’m now convinced your knowledge of flying floatplanes – and no doubt jets – is superior to mine. The jets you can prove another day, but it’s time for me to give in and head home. It’s time for more of those damned painkillers Sir Smash-Em-Up macho-me is taking regularly.”
Aela grinned at the faces he was pulling knowing the ribs he’d claimed earlier were fine were anything but fine.
“Did you really call me that?” Though Nairn was laughing he seemed incredulous.
“Well, what was I supposed to think? Who the hell would interview looking like a battered train wreck? A re-enactment against the castle backdrop seemed to fit so well.” Her hearty laugh echoed around them.
Back at the boat slip they were lucky to catch Jamie who’d just completed an overtime shift. It was no trouble for him to organize Nairn’s transport back to the castle.
Knowing her boss was in good hands, she taxied the floatplane back around the headland. It gave her the opportunity to check out his catamaran, the small dinghy and the kayaks in the cove boatshed. There was no way she was going to be taking out any of Nairn’s transport without making thorough checks. One great advantage from having worked in her Uncle Harris’s company meant she’d learned plenty about engines and working parts of many kinds of vehicles before she’d even been allowed to fly or drive them. By the time she locked up the boatshed, she was happy all was in order with the assembled craft though she was almost late for dinner.
Her backpack didn’t run to elegant evening wear though she did have a couple of tops of good quality she’d bought in Italy. The one she wore to dine was already a firm favourite of hers; deep purple with sequins and overstitching.
“Miss Cameron,” Kirsty exclaimed when she arrived at the dining room. “You look so pretty in that colour. Doesn’t she look fine, Mr. Malcolm?”
The whisper of sound passing Nairn’s lips as Kirsty bustled out of the room was probably an assent. After a long pause he met her gaze. Sheer frustration mirrored back at her.
“Gorgeous,” he rasped. “But then you look stunning in everything.”
“Thank you, sir. You’re likely to see it often, since I don’t have many alternatives.”
They picked up their casual banter of the afternoon, yet one of his tiny glances, or the merest brush of their fingers when she helped him cut awkward parts of his pasta, set up a heightened strain.
“I know you’re having your meal, Miss Cameron, but someone called Jed was on the castle’s phone line,” Kirsty informed her as she brought their next course. “When I said you were eating, he told me it was fine if you phone him back later. Says he’s missed you so bad.”
“I’m missing him too, Kirsty. Thanks for the message. I’ll call back as soon as I can.”
Aela’s smile was reciprocated by Kirsty but not by her employer. Nairn, it seemed, wasn’t happy about interruptions to his food, or maybe he was just annoyed Jed had used the castle phone. He regressed to grumpy curmudgeon for the rest of the meal.
“I don’t need you any more tonight. Take the time off to do whatever you like.”
Aela watched his tense back muscles as he leaned on his crutch and stomped off as much as one can with a leg cast.
Bloody chameleon!
The temptation was high to go back down to Mariskay, it being Saturday evening. Instead, in the office apartment, she decided to research official government records of births, marriages and deaths, in an attempt to find her great-grandfather’s relatives. But before that…
“Jed!” Aela clucked. “You were checking up on me again.” Her cousin Jed always cheered her up even if his tendency to be overprotective sometimes annoyed her.
***
Nairn succumbed. He’d forced himself to work but his concentration was shattered. He needed to know if Aela had gone out. Like the night before. Jealousy of Ruaridh; this Jed person; and maybe other unknown men, ate at his gut.
Frustration crippled him almost as much as his leg cast. Full attention from a woman he was dating was what he liked when they were together, but he’d never bothered about what they were doing when they were apart. What did his urges mean now? Was he jealous because he’d got used to Aela’s proximity? Was it because they weren’t just sharing a work space but, almost, their living quarters? Regardless of those answers he missed her. Missed looking over at her; missed hearing her sexy, husky voice even when her laughter was overt, or berating his stupidity regarding his health.
At the apartment he found the sitting room door wide open and a loud throbbing beat playing on the music system. Sitting with her back to him she seemed intent, working on the computer. She was home, and he felt like a louse for checking up on her. Relieved, but still a louse. He turned and hobbled to his lonely office.
He wanted her at her desk across the room, but he was the one who’d chased her away. He was, even now, begrudging giving her time off to do what she wanted in the apartment. As his employee she deserved some time off, but he wanted to get to know her. He looked down at his casts and in a miserable temper tossed his crutch away.
Chapter Twelve
“Aela!”
The loud plea shocked Aela as she rinsed her hair in the shower. Punching off the water, she grabbed a towel wondering what on earth the matter was. The day before Nairn had seemed so much better – give or take his bad moods. No symptoms of concussion had returned, his ribs were causing fewer problems, and even walking with his crutch was less awkward. Rushing out, tucking the towel in place into her cleavage, she found him entering the bedroom in search of her.
“What’s wrong?” She took in the sight of his naked torso at once, because the sad fact was he’d managed to cover himself far too well the last few days.
“Sorry.” Nairn’s gaze fixed on her face as he stared at the rivulets of water she felt trickling from her hair. He looked ill-at-ease as though it was a great effort to keep his eyes north of her shoulders. “I didn’t think before I barged in. I’ll…leave you to get dressed. Talk to you later.”
Turning around too swiftly he hobbled out, a grunt escaping.
“No! Nairn. Wait. Mmm…sir?” Aela found her voice. “What did you want?”
His throat sounded rough when he turned back. “I can’t get the new dressing back on. I wondered if you could help me.”
Aela found her own voice hoarse. “Give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll be along to help you.”
His beam of thanks floored her. She stared as he lurched out of the room: it was the first time he’d asked her for help regarding his injuries. She was finding the man lethal.
When she taped on the new dressing, her fingers trembled so much she thought she wouldn’t be able to smooth it into place. His whole ribcage was now a myriad of lighter purples, green-yellows, greyish-blacks; still bruised but pulsing with a need to be soothed. Fearful of hurting him further she smoothed the edges of the tape with great care, Nairn’s unique male scent mingling with the ba
lm-sweet smell emanating around him.
Under her fingers, she could feel Nairn’s minute trembles. His face dipped down. She couldn’t fail to hear the sniff when his nose drew deep of the scent of her washed hair. His hand reached up and stroked her still-wet locks.
“Miss Cameron…Aela?” Nairn sounded strangled.
“Am I hurting you?”
Nairn clutched her chin and enclosed her mouth with his as though he couldn’t stop himself.
Aela was unable to do anything but respond, the insanity of it escaping her till she felt Nairn’s agonized gasp against her lips. She felt the sheer ache of his ribs because her grip around his torso was too tight. His face leeched colour; his breathing erratic and troubled. Breaking free, her embarrassment was as heated as her voice.
“Sir.” His torso wasn’t ready for more stress. She had to suppress her own desire because she was going to make him need another hospital visit if she didn’t back away. The lie she produced was so hard to voice; nearly crumpling her to her knees. “I don’t do passing flings. And you don’t date employees.”
Pulling free from his grip, she retreated out of the room and flew down the corridor like a bat out of hell.
She heard his faint cry echo along the corridor. “I’m sorry, Aela.”
Clothes a haphazard throw-on, she bolted for the stables unable to be near Nairn for one more second without jumping his battered body. Her feverish mind perfected the best approach to make love to a body with two plaster casts and extreme sensitivity around the torso. How perverted did that make her?
It was regrettable Lanera had no huge prairie to gallop out her demons. On the positive side, there was a horse available she could use: the others already out to the locals, mainly kids Nairn allowed to ride free of charge. She learned Nairn’s sole stipulation was if someone rode one of his horses, they had to spend some time mucking out, or doing other stable chores.
After her ride and some light tack cleaning – all she was permitted to do – she headed down to Mariskay for lunch to avoid Nairn, having made her apologies to Kirsty. Her meal had just arrived at the outside table of her harbour restaurant when Ruaridh’s appearance was so timely Kirsty must have phoned him.
“So, how come you’re here and my son isn’t? What’s he up to today?” His inquisitive nature came to the fore.
“No idea. Left him to his own devices.”
“So, Nairn’s giving you the cold shoulder?” Ruaridh’s question was serious.
“We’re being polite and businesslike, Ruaridh, which is how it should be.” Her retort was firm knowing full well she lied through her teeth, for how on earth could Nairn’s kiss of the morning be called businesslike?
After her snapping, she was amazed when Ruaridh invited her to go out in his catamaran, his smile cajoling. How could she refuse, desperate as she was to learn how to navigate them, to do her transporting jobs well? It was much easier than the learning curve in becoming a detached PA to Nairn Malcolm.
Nairn was asleep on one of the huge couches in the great room, his full length stretched out, on her return to Garvald Castle. She’d missed him all afternoon and how stupid was that? Give or take a bruise or two, he was so handsome in repose. There were none of those ugly frowns marring his attractive face; no lines fanning out from his lips indicating disapproval. The residual bruising had faded to a faint yellowish tinge. She wanted to capture his curving lips and taste them. Prudence won, though, as she crept out instead.
“I’m not quite asleep,” Nairn called out to her, but she could tell she’d just wakened him by the sleepy pitch of his voice.
“Sorry, I tried not to wake you,” she whispered, warmed not just by his tone, but by his intense scrutiny of her skimpy shorts and camisole since the afternoon had been warm.
Nairn’s movements were sinuous as he worked himself upright. A pair of swim shorts was all he wore, though she was sure he hadn’t been so rash as to use the pool. “Had a nice relaxing day?” His enquiry was casual, but his eyes were hooded.
“Lovely.” She didn’t quite know how to respond to him: he was being so nice.
“I told you the day was yours but, if you don’t have any evening plans, would you mind driving us both down to Mariskay for a meal?” He sounded apologetic, and followed it with the admission that he’d told Kirsty she’d not need to cook that evening.
“I’m happy to drive you down, though you don’t have to include me in your dinner plans.”
“The truth, Aela?” The rise to his feet awkward in front of her, he dominated her airspace once he was standing. “If you’re with me, I’ll not be accosted by well-wishers every two seconds. You could save me from such a fate, surely?”
The teasing grin accompanying his request was a deal breaker. How could she resist? “Your ego wouldn’t need polishing a little would it?” She jested, amazed at his arrogance, yet having learned how well-thought of he was she didn’t doubt there would be people who’d stop by asking after his health.
She wasn’t wrong.
The meal was convivial even though there was a constant interruption of people asking after him. Everything was extremely pleasant till Ruaridh arrived, just as they began their desserts.
“Aela! I’m so glad to see you.” Ruaridh swallowed her up in a big bear hug. The light kiss to her cheek surprised her, but with Ruaridh she didn’t know what to expect, or how to interpret his enthusiastic welcome. “So you’ve given up the chariot already, Nairn?” Ruaridh launched in without preamble when he straightened back up. “Feeling much better?”
Nairn didn’t answer right away, continuing to fork his chocolate pistachio mousse with determined precision. “Thought I was.” His reply was cryptic since he didn’t look at Ruaridh. “Now, maybe less so.”
All Ruaridh did was grin.
“Aela? Got personal things to talk to you about that I forgot to tell you this afternoon,” Ruaridh declared after a few minutes of general chitchat. “Maybe we could meet tomorrow night after work?”
With startling speed their waitress was signalled, the bill paid and in double quick time Aela found herself heading out of the restaurant. No coffee. No further chat to Ruaridh. Not even a proper goodbye because as soon as Nairn had tossed down some banknotes on the table he’d limped off for the door. She made her apologetic goodbyes to a grinning Ruaridh.
Nairn didn’t speak at all on the way back. Blowing hot and cold with her seemed to be his favourite pastime. She fumed. He was so unbearably rude to his father. She hadn’t a clue what’d caused it, but she couldn’t condone his manner.
Unlocking the back door she preceded him inside, feeling around for the hall light switch. In her wake, Nairn declared he was heading for the office his eyes lingering on hers for much longer than ever before when she turned back to him, a question there she couldn’t interpret before he bid her a clipped goodnight. He wasn’t angry. His silent question was almost…disappointment?
Aela didn’t want the evening to end on a sour note. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t affected by the blasted man. Yet what he wanted she couldn’t seem to give him. At least she didn’t think so because he kept walking away.
Aela experienced the full force of Nairn’s dynamic personality when she presented herself in the office just after eight a.m. Monday, the beginning of the traditional working week. Traditional for some – Nairn’s week proved to be a little different.
“Miss Cameron.”
She’d begun to dread the formality of her surname because she knew it firmed her in her place.
“We’re leaving by nine o’clock. I need to do a day trip to my London headquarters. Weather and landing conditions are already checked and maintenance in Glasgow has the jet on standby.”
Aela almost blew a gasket. They had planned this but later in the week when he might be a little more fit to do it. “Are you loco? You could barely manage a few hours in the floatplane on Saturday, Nairn Malcolm, so what the friggin’ heck makes you think you’re ready for a trip to
London and back?” Nairn’s one-eyebrow lift was impressive, but she wasn’t fazed by it. “All the healing you’ve done to date will be for nothing, you stupid prat.”
The silence was telling.
Since Nairn wasn’t put off in the least by her censure, she stomped to her computer and powered up, muttering dire warnings.
Quite unperturbed Nairn detailed his usual flying procedures, Aela making hasty notes for future reference. His mood was light, yet she didn’t quite trust it somehow. Why, or what, would make him so changed from the angry man of the evening before?
“For this first trip would you prefer a chartered pilot to take us from Glasgow to London? Now, don’t get your hackles up! I’m asking because I also need you in the capacity of my PA immediately after the flight.”
She wasn’t sure how to interpret his inquiry. On the one hand he could doubt her expertise, yet on the other he could be thinking about her energy reserves as she juggled the different jobs. Either way she knew this was a first test of her stamina and of her capabilities. “I’ll be fine with all the transportation, sir, and with my role as PA.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Nairn nodded, then detailed the calls they each had to make before they left, and the correspondence which needed completion before leaving.
Around eight forty-five Nairn declared he was off to get dressed. She hadn’t even noticed he was wearing the ubiquitous towelling dressing robe since she’d become so inured to it. Scooting off herself, she changed into her one and only suit.
Ten minutes later he was at the office door wearing a short sleeved white shirt, unbuttoned, and a pair of black cargo pants, one leg unzipped to the knee, baring the stark white plaster cast she’d become so accustomed to. A striped tie lay across his arm on top of a formal suit jacket of soft black cashmere. She heard an irritated exhalation of breath as he lurched into the office.
“I’m going to have to call up that extra clause on your contract already.”
Take Me Now Page 11
