Take Me Now

by Nancy Jardine

“Aela,” he bellowed. “Get in here, please, and help me with this bloody tie!”

  Her eyes were met with a horrendous mess when she opened his bedroom door. The expertly packed case had been raided. Clothing was strewn all over the bed, or was cascading onto the floor. Nairn was standing in front of a mirror wearing a partially buttoned formal shirt, a tie drooping around his neck. Dark suit trousers were sliding down his legs, his good hand fumbling to hang onto them as he failed to zip and hook them.

  “Got a little problem here, sir?” She responded as serenely as she could, stifling a full blown grin as she sped to help him recover his dignity. Not meeting his eye she ignored his blasted tirade of profanities. Obviously Richard had worked wonders in organizing new trousers, sufficiently wide to pull over the cast, but the hooked fastening at the waist needed more than a one-handed approach.

  She couldn’t deny the rush of feelings engendered by Nairn’s closeness; neither could she remain unaware of his clenched jaw as her deft fingers pulled his trousers up and into place. Touching him was inevitable as she fastened the clip. His breathing was ruffled though she knew very well it had nothing to do with rib pain. His head was bent towards her as she completed the process. Heat emanated from him in waves as she straightened up, her head bumping against his chin as she fixed the tie.

  Looking him squarely in the eye, she calmly berated him, steeling herself not to drown in the blue depths glistening there.

  “Next time, Nairn, just ask. Let’s call daily business dressing part of my job description. Remember the little clause about during your incapacity? It includes cuff links.”

  She watched the sexy glint soften to an even deeper blue yet couldn’t quite gauge what he was thinking as the twitch at his mouth deepened. His lips swooped onto hers in a brief yet satisfying kiss before she could evade it.

  “Nairn. I’m here to help you with those little things you can’t do yourself, that’s all,” she chided, no longer able to deny the inevitability of a closer connection between them.

  “Exactly.” Nairn’s gaze twinkled with mirth.

  Seconds later, she was slipping his widened jacket sleeve over his arm cast – though how she did it at speed was a miracle, an unaccustomed jitteriness making her feel clumsy. What she really wanted to do was rip the clothes off him and take full advantage of his partial incapacity. Having straightened the front of his jacket in place she faced him, handing him the walking aid.

  “I think you’ll do, sir.”

  Nairn’s gaze was relentless as one finger tilted her chin up. “My name is Nairn. Call me that when we’re alone.” He cleared his throat, his head shaking as though to dispel a dream.

  “Let’s go, Miss Cameron.”

  Business took priority.

  As they waited for the lift she heard Nairn’s indrawn breath when he took in her dress. “Once again you surprise me, Miss Cameron. Not a little black number, but a sexy dark red one. So, you did have something in your suitcase?”

  The merriment wouldn’t be contained as she took his compliment in her stride. “I didn’t. The hotel happens to have some very well-stocked boutiques.”

  “If you bought that here, then I definitely must reimburse you. Your salary package obviously needs to include an evening wardrobe as well as a day one. Give me any clothing bills you incur for our business needs.”

  “For exceptions, maybe, sir. Otherwise I’ll seem like a kept woman, and we wouldn’t want your accountants to think that, would we?”

  Before she hastily repaired her lip gloss in the copper mirror of the lift, she feathered her fingers across Nairn’s mouth. The twinkle in her eye she wouldn’t repress. “Just a little still there, sir. Wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed.”

  Nairn’s hearty chuckle vibrated around the small compartment.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Good evening!”

  As Aela preceded Nairn into the intimate Piano Bar, she heard a voice ring out from a nearby alcove seating arrangement. Two men sat there, the only occupants of the whole area. One of them, lounging wide on the curved banquette, Aela reckoned to be Prince Hasson – his headgear indication of his rank. The prince’s aide sat to his side, on a separate stool, his laptop resting on the table. As soon as the prince’s greeting rang out, the aide jumped to his feet and gestured them forward.

  “You have to be Nairn Malcolm. There can’t be too many men of your description here tonight.” Prince Hasson’s English was excellent as he spoke from the couch. His words addressed Nairn, yet his focus was elsewhere.

  Aela was conscious that the prince’s gaze lingered far too long on her chest, and was immediately put on her guard. A gut-feeling sparked, something told her a professional approach to her wasn’t what the prince had in mind.

  Introductions completed, she sat as requested by the prince in the middle of the U-shaped couch, large enough to seat eight people though Nairn needed to remain at the edge to extend his leg cast. Prince Hasson, seated opposite Nairn, had not risen during the formal greetings. His dark looks were handsome…yet he exuded a false charm she detested on sight whilst he muttered something to his assistant. A waiter appeared at the flick of a long finger.

  “Miss Cameron. What would you like? To drink?” His smooth tones, she realized, were meant to seduce for his eyes had not removed themselves from her discrete cleavage. She was, to all intents and purposes maybe fair game to him, since her introduction was as Nairn’s PA, not his girlfriend…or wife.

  Masking her feelings, she avoided direct eye contact, believing it wasn’t the done thing. “Sparkling water, please.”

  She needed to keep her wits about her given that she’d a hunch the man would take liberties. Efficiently powering up her laptop she settled to take notes.

  As they discussed the possibilities Nairn could provide, Aela was aware of Nairn’s increasing tension. He had to be exhausted, of course, for they’d already put in a long day, the strain of travel an additional factor. The fingers of his good hand clenched around the table edge, his jaw progressively more rigid as though it was a strain to even talk. There was a bit of teeth clenching going on she didn’t understand since the conversation was urbane; business-like as Prince Hasson inquired about small changes to specifications.

  Her own role was purely secretarial. She wasn’t familiar enough with the nuances of the newest jet-ski designs, although she remembered seeing an example during her whirlwind tour of the boatyard.

  Her own tension increased when her hunch proved to be true. Little by little, Prince Hasson slid alongside her…and remained close by. The urge to shake him off was immense, but, her teeth set, she ignored him without being impolite. She wanted to whack him when his wandering arm curved around her shoulder to rest on the seat back. Sliding closer to the table she sat so erect she felt her back would surely break with the rigidity. The shivers rippling her frame had nothing to do with temperature…or excitement at his proximity. Loathing was too trite a word for how she felt. Her natural instinct was to use some choice words and tell him to take a hike. Of course she wasn’t expected to make any eye contact with the prince, so she couldn’t even give him the back-off eye she’d perfected over the years.

  Protocol was a bitch!

  ***

  Nairn was furious. Why hadn’t he thought about the scenario that was being enacted right in front of him? Why hadn’t he factored in the implications of bringing Aela down to this late evening meeting? He cursed himself blind for being so short-sighted and stupid.

  He detested it when the prince slid along the seating towards Aela and settled within touching distance of her – ostensibly to see the display on her laptop better – even though his own secretary had the same screen for his perusal. It had been impossible not to note how the prince’s eyes had lingered on Aela far too long on their arrival: impossible not to note the predatory gleam in the potentate’s eye as he appreciated Aela’s beauty. Impossible not to realize how easy it was for the prince to have his wishes…and likely whi
ms…fulfilled at the flick of a finger. A woman like Aela was a tasty morsel for the prince.

  Nairn had heard, through the grapevine, of the prince’s predilections for picking up beautiful women for the night.

  Aela was beautiful. But she wasn’t for the prince.

  It mattered that she was uncomfortable: he’d put her in such a vulnerable position. For years, he’d not had to be aware of any such thing when Brian was his assistant, but it was no excuse for not thinking ahead. Her restless resettling on the couch warned him she wasn’t happy about the prince’s changes of position either.

  When his potentially lucrative client’s fingers strayed again to brush against her hand, as she moved on the touchpad, protective instincts Nairn didn’t know he had rose to the fore. Even worse, when Prince Hasson’s arm crept over the back of her body and all but caressed her hair, his insides roiled.

  Nobody should be touching Aela in such blatant fashion. His temper spiked when she recoiled, the prince’s drifting fingers a fleeting touch at her neck. He had no wish to offend an important client, but he wouldn’t sit there any longer and watch Aela being pawed.

  On the verge of abandoning the prince’s business, they were informed their table awaited them. No announcement could have come at a better time. Moving through to the dining room, he was unsurprised to find a whole section had been cordoned off, the prince’s security detail a discrete hover around them.

  The hotel was not only a business venue. The live music quartet was a charming and lulling backdrop to the low-lit romantic ambience. Other patrons, just visible, were mainly couples in splendid attire, enjoying a meal at leisure. He was glad to see Aela wasn’t out of place in her purchase from the boutique. It almost matched the gowns of the women present, yet was subtle enough in its simplicity to double for business. He just wished, again, he’d had the foresight to have thought of the need beforehand.

  Between mouthfuls of food, Aela made pencilled notes as he directed, but Prince Hasson’s leering of her continued – no matter how much he deflected his royal highness’s attention. The arrangement of the seats at table meant Prince Hasson wasn’t right up close to her, but his examination of her person was so overt Nairn’s hackles remained roused.

  Every now and then when Aela had to look at him for confirmation on something, he sensed her rising resentment. Determined to end the discussions as soon as possible, he set a furious pace in the negotiations. By the time their coffee arrived, Aela looked as strung out as he was feeling. He felt beyond exhaustion, emotionally tattered in a way he’d never before experienced, so much so he wondered if he’d be able to manoeuvre himself into the lift and up to bed.

  A deft winding up of negotiations completed, he was relieved when Prince Hasson agreed to an eight a.m. breakfast meeting to finalize the last few details. But he fumed as the prince bid them goodnight, lifting each of Aela’s hands in turn and kissing her knuckles, holding onto her fingers too long and seeking eye contact with her. Thankfully Aela neatly fielded that. The invitation to continue personal relations with her was so barefaced. Prince or not, he’d had enough truck with polite protocol.

  “Summon the lift, please, Miss Cameron!”

  It galled him to do it, but he managed a curt goodnight to his client. Inside the lift, he again cursed the maniac who had caused his body to be in such a state. Fatigue warred with every kind of frustration. He was so damned pathetic that dragging himself to his room looked too much of a challenge.

  ***

  Aela buttoned her lip, disgusted with the prince’s sleazy moves and annoyed at Nairn’s presumption she should blindly obey his curt orders. She hadn’t flirted with Prince Hasson, not once. Riding in the lift was an excruciating affair: Nairn draped over the walking aid – the grim ogre definitely back.

  Inside their suite he snapped. “Breakfast at seven. We’ve a lot to discuss. Goodnight, Miss Cameron.”

  She was glad to escape; dog-tired and furious. She had no idea why he was so angry as she’d tried hard to be competent and professional. Hanging her dress up with some care, in case it was needed again soon, she removed her bra and shrugged into the thin silky robe she’d bought in the London store. Her minimal makeup had just been removed when a deafening curse accompanied a loud crash.

  Good God, what had happened to him?

  Nairn was flat on the floor at the side of the bed, his trousers a tangle round his feet, his plastered leg lying at a horrifying angle. She didn’t really mean her screech to be so loud. But it was. “You stupid man! All you needed to do was ask for help. You can’t be so annoyed at my incompetence you’d endanger your own health.”

  Disentangling the trousers and wrenching them behind her she straightened his leg. Biting her lip in sheer frustration at her outburst, and with the heart-beating concern that he might be hurt even more, her hands cradled his face, her eyes beseeching. “Do I need to call a doctor, Nairn?”

  Pained blue irises reflected up at her, darkening to the deepest, softest blue as she sniffed, the merest tweak at his lip calming her frantic heartbeats. “No, Aela. Just my pride, but I would appreciate help to get off the floor.”

  Her arms cradled as she helped him sit on the edge of the bed where she loosened the tie and unbuttoned his shirt. Kneeling between his legs to remove his gold cufflinks his head was so close the exhalations of his breathing ruffled her hair. It was a torment to peel the shirt down his arms and off at the wrists, unable as she was to look at him since she knew he traced her every movement. Her shaking palms hovered over the waistband of his boxer shorts, incapable of proceeding further.

  Her bent head felt the whisper of his fingers as he gently combed the strands covering her cheek before he urged her head up. His lips found hers in an urgent collision of teeth and soft flesh. An agonized groan escaped as their kiss deepened.

  “Nairn?”

  “Let me…”

  “You need to get into bed, Nairn. You’re knackered.”

  “I just wish…”

  She couldn’t help her gurgle. “Save it for another day, sir.”

  When Aela surfaced the next day her conscience bothered her. She shouldn’t have allowed Nairn to kiss her. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk away in three weeks with her heart and soul intact. He was coming to mean far too much to her…and no man had ever done that.

  She had to distance herself. It had to stop now.

  Business only.

  Showering and dressing was on automatic pilot.

  “Aela?” Nairn’s light-hearted plea reached her as she walked past his bedroom door. “Can you help me, please?”

  Hells bells and baubles. It was going to be much harder than she thought. Mentally bracing herself for the inevitable she drew deep breaths before walking into his bedroom.

  “Good morning, sir.”

  “Sir?”

  Nairn’s eyes lost their happy welcome as he took in her expression, his tie outstretched for her assistance. Pretending nothing had happened between them, without meeting his eye, she silently helped him fasten his trousers, touching at an absolute minimum. When he was properly dressed she faced him, forcing her tone to be even, and impersonal. “I don’t want to talk about last night except to say it was my fault, and it won’t happen again. It was a mistake. We need to get back to our professional only relationship. Friends maybe, but definitely nothing else.”

  Eye contact was no longer possible to maintain when she watched his jaw firm, and a vein start pulsing at his neck. Far from blushing this time, she felt blood drain from her face as his eyes grew antagonistic, shutters slamming into place. He viewed his neatly sorted appearance; lips tightening to a slit his words were clipped. “I hear you. Thanks for helping me dress. I’ll not ask too often.”

  When she bent to gather discarded clothing he stopped her, his hand a zinging brand on her arm, his hiss urging her upright again. “No need! A valet will pack during our breakfast meeting.” He held her shoulders, his fingers trembling with tension, his anger
seeping into her. “Aela, I can see you’re regretting last night, but we need to work around this.”

  Shrugging out of his grasp she turned away unable to face his pleading. “No. We don’t. I’m sorry.” Taking a shaky breath a whisper was her best. “I may have responded to you last night, but it can’t happen again. I’m sorry to disappoint you, I’m going back to Canada soon, and I don’t want a fleeting relationship.”

  Rushing off to her room, unchecked tears dripped down her cheeks while she ensured her case was ready for collection.

  The strain was horrendous as they rode the lift down to meet with Prince Hasson. When the prince was called away, soon after their meeting started, she was barely able to contain her delight. Morning had changed the potentate’s inappropriate attentions.

  They departed after the aborted breakfast meeting and headed for the airport, their charter jet having been quickly readied, polite professionalism in place again. She had work hard to keep going during the flight back to London and typical of Nairn – she knew him well enough already – they even had time for a short visit to the office on their return.

  “Too late to head back to Lanera tonight,” Nairn declared around eight-fifteen that evening. “Alert Richard, please, that we’ll be staying over.”

  By then she hadn’t expected anything different. Controlled attitudes had been maintained by both. It was what she told herself she wanted.

  Indifferent interaction between them was detestable, but it was how they played it the next day as well. Into the office early, she slogged on till around two p.m. when Nairn buzzed her, both of them having had a working sandwich lunch.

  “I’ve a client meeting in half an hour. Bring the Range Rover to the door for me, please.”

  “You don’t have anything on your diary, sir.” Her tone was snippy since she’d heard nothing about this plan.

  “Change of tense, Miss Cameron. I didn’t, but because I just made the appointment I now do have a meeting. Do you have a problem with that?”