Boss Meets Baby

by Carol Marinelli

  He’d arrived at Glenteign only last night for the weekend and she had been thrilled to see a familiar, smiling— face.

  ‘This place has done wonders for you…I can see that.’ Looking thoughtful, Noah reached out and fingered a curling tendril of her chestnut hair. ‘You’re a different girl…and you’ve lost that grey London pallor!’

  ‘Who wouldn’t love it here?’

  Turning slightly away from him, Georgia leant forward to smell the scent of a drowsy yellow rose, drooping— heavily on its stem beside the footpath. The path was resplendent on all sides with foliage, plants— and flowers—some past their best, since September was swiftly approaching, but still lovely all the same.

  Roses had always been her favourite. She supposed it was because her mother had loved them so, and had always brought one or two into the house from the garden to light up a room when she was feeling a little melancholy. Even though she and Noah had been on their own for years now, Georgia still found it hard sometimes to realise that their mother was no longer there…her father too. They had been such wonderful, loving parents.

  For some reason just at that moment the memory crept into her mind of what Keir had said at the concert. Something about not living in an ideal world, and how some people should never have children because they not only screwed up their own lives but their kids’ as well. Was that what had happened to Keir and his brother Robbie?

  Her brow creased with renewed concern. She’d already concluded that the Laird of Glenteign was not exactly the happiest of men. Sometimes she glimpsed such singular sadness in his riveting blue eyes that she longed to be able to banish it for good… But she knew it was a very dangerous impulse, and one that should definitely be curbed if she didn’t want to find herself not just hurt but out of a job too…

  ‘And what about the Highlands? What about where you’re working now?’ she asked Noah, determined— to focus on her brother’s visit above all else while he was there. ‘Do you like it as much as Glenteign?’

  ‘Oh, it’s beautiful enough, all right—and the couple I’m working for are very down-to-earth…despite— being landed gentry! But I enjoyed perhaps some of the best months of my life working here.’ Noah lapsed into a reflective stroll again and Georgia joined him. ‘Keir was great to work for. Easy to discuss my ideas with, and very fair. I enjoyed his company. How are you finding him, Georgie?’

  ‘Oh…’ She shrugged to deflect attention from the hectic colour that she knew had rushed into her cheeks at the mention of her boss. ‘There were a few awkward moments at first, but now we’re getting along just fine. He’s off to New York on business again on Monday, so we’ve been very busy the past few days trying to do as much as possible before he goes.’

  It was odd, but when Keir had announced the day after the benefit concert that he was going away, Georgia’s stomach had turned strangely hollow. No one she’d ever worked for had had such a peculiar effect on her before.

  ‘Oh, well…You’ll enjoy being your own boss for a while, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure I will.’

  Georgia wondered what Noah would think if he knew that the big masculine study where they worked together already seemed strangely desolate even with the idea of Keir not being there with her. The man was such a presence that the big house would not seem the same without him.

  ‘Anyway…’ Linking her arm in his, Georgia grinned. ‘Guess what’s for dessert at dinner tonight, in— your honour?’

  ‘Not apple crumble?’

  ‘I asked Moira if she could arrange it as a special treat.’

  ‘Be still my beating heart!’

  Keir heard the laughter from the open study window and, drawn there away from the sheaf of legal documents— he’d been busy perusing at his desk—he glanced out over the ledge towards the ground below. His heart gave a jolt at the sight of Georgia in a white summer dress, her shining chestnut hair arranged in a loose, girlish ponytail. She looked very young and carefree. Beside her was her brother, and together they made an eye-catching pair, the striking blond Noah and his darker, bewitching— sister.

  A slash of envy curled almost painfully in the pit of Keir’s stomach. They might have lost their parents, but he could see that the bond between them was an extremely close and affectionate one. Again he thought of Robbie, and how the distance between him and his brother had grown ever wider over the years. Back at Glenteign—the root of all his early misery and pain—Keir had never felt more emotionally isolated than he did right at that moment. The sight of Georgia and Noah’s delight in seeing each other merely reconfirmed that he’d made the right decision in electing to go to New York on business.

  The matter that called him there was hardly urgent—he had good people working for him, who were quite capable of dealing with it—but Keir found he was glad of the excuse to go away again for a while. Being around Georgia Cameron was just un-settling— him far too much, and perhaps with some real distance between them he might get things back into perspective. She was only at Glenteign tempo-rarily,— until the dependable Valerie recovered from her injury and came back. It wasn’t wise to get too used to having her here, and in New York there was a girl Keir had met on his last trip. He’d vaguely promised to get in touch with her on his return…

  After Noah and Kier had left, Georgia was greatly unsettled. To alleviate the restlessness that had come upon her, after work each day, and at the weekend, she walked for miles with Hamish, exploring and enjoying her breathtaking surroundings.

  One day, after scrabbling over some challenging rocky crags, her back damp with perspiration and her clothes sticking to her beneath her waterproof— while— Hamish had made comparatively light work of the same arduous climb beside her—she came upon a shining silvery loch, exquisitely positioned amidst tall pines. It was like discovering paradise…The sight so undid her that Georgia immediately burst into tears when she saw it.

  Sitting back on a rock, she put her arms around Hamish and held him there, her gaze enthralled. She was moved almost unbearably by the spectacular— scene in front of her. Did Keir ever come up here? she speculated. If he didn’t, then he should. Surely the sight of all this wild, unfettered beauty would have the power to chase away all his heartache? Her own heart turned over at the memory of his strong, serious face, and she sincerely— hoped that whatever he was doing in New York he might find some comfort there from the worries that beset him.

  Perhaps there was a woman there who might provide that comfort? The thought was like the viper in the Garden of Eden.

  ‘No!’

  Hamish pulled away from her in surprise. She hadn’t meant to voice her disapproval out loud, and Georgia was shocked by her own unrestrained outburst.

  ‘What am I saying?’ she muttered crossly, getting to her feet and wiping loose grass from her corduroy jeans. ‘He means nothing to me other than that I just work for the man! I have no right to be jealous if he’s seeing some fabulously beautiful woman in New York! Why should I care? Come on Hamish…time to get back! We don’t want to be late for dinner!’

  Determinedly banishing thoughts of Keir from her mind, she started to negotiate the climb back down the rocks again. But a melancholy had descended— that she couldn’t shake, and it stayed with her for the rest of the day until she went to bed later that evening…

  A few days later, the sultry weather they’d been having finally broke at around ten to midnight. An almighty crack of thunder vented its fury above the turreted rooftops of Glenteign, and Georgia sat up in bed in shock as a streak of lightning lit up the room, briefly— and eerily illuminating all the previously dark corners and making her clutch at the thin cotton sheet which was all the covering her overheated body could bear.

  She had a love/hate relationship with thunderstorms. While she had a secret admiration for the passion and fury they displayed, which reminded her that no matter what humankind achieved it could not control the elements, they frightened her deeply. Of course she’d never disp
layed that fear to Noah—not— when he was young and had naturally relied on her to help him feel secure. But when she was on her own, as she was now, it was hard to keep her anxiety completely at bay.

  She’d suffered an agony of tension all day because she’d known that a storm was threatening, and she’d guessed it would come tonight. And while Georgia despised the fear that it evoked in her, which she couldn’t entirely control, she found herself wishing that Keir was at least at home, in his room down the hall from hers. It would have given her a measure of security just to know that he was there. But Keir was still in New York, and she had received no word as to when he would be returning.

  Something that sounded vaguely like a door opening and closing broke into her consciousness. But as the rain started to lash with some ferocity at the casement windows with their lavish undrawn curtains Georgia wondered if she’d imagined it. Her ears strained for a repetition of the sound, or some follow-up to it, but all she heard was the rain pounding relentlessly at everything it touched. She let out her breath slowly and forced herself to try and relax.

  All of a sudden she was certain she heard someone— walking about in the corridor outside, and her heart leapt into her mouth. Was it Moira? But the housekeeper’s room was on the floor below hers. What reason would she have for coming up here in the middle of the night? A new, more terrifying thought occurred.

  What if they were being burgled? What if the sound she’d heard hadn’t been a door innocently being opened and then closed by one of the staff, but the sound of someone breaking into the house instead?

  What better distraction than a fierce thunderstorm to drown out any sound of broken glass caused by climbing through a downstairs window or breaking and entering through a side door somewhere?

  Trembling hard, Georgia shoved the cotton sheet aside and slid smoothly and quietly out of bed. Switching on her lamp, dim light flooded the room. That at least reassured her. Reaching for the thin pink robe hanging over the end of the brass bedstead, she— pulled it on over her bare body and swiftly tied the belt. Then, tiptoeing across the carpet, she reached for the iron poker that lay in the old-fash-ioned fireplace. Surprised at how heavy it was, clutching— it between her hands as though it were some kind of broadsword, she crossed the room slowly to the door.

  She didn’t know exactly what she intended to do, or— how on earth she was supposed to deal with some burly thug bent on thieving something valuable—she only knew that this was Keir’s home that was being violated whilst he was away, and that Moira and the other staff slept on oblivious downstairs. Clearly someone had to do something!

  The sound of footsteps was no more, but she thought she heard a muttered expletive—a man’s voice, low and harsh. Georgia’s heart began to pound so hard that to her sensitive hearing the sound drowned out the noise of the heavy rain that was pelting the windows. Oh, dear God… Muttering a swift prayer for help, she turned the doorknob and wrenched open the door. The light from her bedside lamp escaped into the darkened corridor and cast an eerie yellow glow.

  ‘Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded, her gaze latching with fright onto the six-feet-plus frame of the menacing individual hovering outside Keir’s bedroom door.

  ‘I might ask you the same bloody question!’ came back the irritated and furious reply.

  ‘Keir!’

  ‘If I were you, Georgia, I’d put down that extremely— lethal looking poker before you drop it on your foot and break a couple of bones!’

  ‘I thought you were a burglar!’

  ‘You thought what?’ His hard handsome face was glistening with moisture from the rain, and his jacket and trousers were darkened in several places from the spreading damp. Keir’s disbelieving blue eyes regarded Georgia as though she was deranged.

  Her heart slowing to a more normal beat, she pushed still shaking fingers through her tousled dark hair, her relief too immense to be measured. ‘You should have rung to let us know that you were coming home!’ she said accusingly.

  ‘Why?’

  Studying her with a mockingly sensual grin, Keir let his gaze drop deliberately to the thin, inadequate robe that was clearly outlining the very feminine contours of Georgia’s body. Of course he must know that underneath it she was naked.

  ‘Are you telling me that you missed me?’

  What a question! Her gaze cleaving to the darkly brooding expression on his hard-hewn features, Georgia felt as if her breath had been suddenly snatched from her lungs. She’d missed his presence, yes…— But surely not in the way he was implying? She quickly laid the heavy poker down on the casement windowsill beside her, as though it were now something distasteful, and curled her fingers into the flimsy edges of her robe around the neckline. Her skin was hot and prickling beneath his mocking regard.

  ‘You’re the owner of this house…I’m sure—I’m sure everybody notices it when you’re not here.’

  ‘That’s not what I asked, and you know it!’

  Impatiently Keir threw off his sodden jacket, uncaring— where it landed, and scraped his hand through his equally damp dark hair as if too furious to contain his rage.

  ‘And if I had been a burglar, what exactly did you think you could do against some threatening thug twice your size? Even with a poker? You could have got yourself killed or badly injured! Didn’t it occur to you to phone the police if you suspected someone was breaking in? Dear Lord! Don’t you have any common sense?’

  An explosive crash of thunder overhead leached the colour from Georgia’s already pale face. Coupled with the tension that was already holding her stomach in a vice, it made hot, frustrated tears spring readily to her eyes.

  ‘Stop shouting at me! I was scared—scared of who you might be, and of this hateful storm!’

  Needing to get away, Georgia fled back into her room and slammed the door behind her. Awful, horrible,— ingrate! It would have served him bloody well right if burglars had ransacked the whole house and stolen everything he held dear!

  But even as the tears started to roll down her cheeks, the door opened behind her and Keir came into the room. Georgia turned and clutched at her robe in shock. She watched dry-mouthed as he carefully— closed the door again, his straight, broad-shouldered— physique seeming to suck up all the oxygen in the room with its indomitable presence, leaving her very little left to breathe. The expression in his eyes was not one she recognised either.

  ‘You should have said you were frightened of the storm.’ His voice was gruff but not in an unkind way.

  Georgia’s heartbeat skittered.

  ‘Are you crying?’ he demanded.

  Before she could reply, he strode up in front of her and touched the palm of his hand to her damp cheek. With the pad of his thumb he brushed away the slippery track of a tear and his warm breath drifted over her. Had she ceased breathing? It certainly seemed as if she had. Her senses held in thrall by his touch, the storm that raged outside all but forgotten, Georgia gulped down air and exhaled raggedly.

  Keir’s chin, with its hard, masculine cleft, was just inches from her forehead, and she had to look up to meet his searching gaze…

  Staring into her mesmerising tear-filled eyes was like seeing the sun glinting gold above the green of the Glens…Her exquisitely feminine scent seemed to saturate his senses, and Keir hardly dared move lest he somehow shatter something irretrievable.

  He’d stayed away longer than he’d needed to in New York because of this woman. In the couple of days following their attendance at the concert he had found it almost impossible to be in the same room as Georgia without needing to touch her. His desire had almost grown into a compulsion. She’d drawn his gaze wherever she went, and he’d barely been able to concentrate on the work that had to be done. It was a distraction he’d found hard to deal with. That was why he had grabbed at the chance to go to New York. But even when he’d been an ocean away she had dominated his thoughts. Now, home again, he realised that this budding attraction was developing in
to something nearer to obsession.

  ‘There’s no need to be afraid. The storm won’t hurt you or this house. Can you imagine how many storms Glenteign has endured over the years? In an hour or so it will have blown itself out, and everything— will be calm again.’

  ‘You probably think I’m behaving like a complete coward!’ Her mouth quivered, and Keir’s hungry glance latched onto it as though it were heavenly perfection— itself.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Even though his tone was gently mocking, he smiled and moved his fingers through the soft fall of her hair. ‘You? A coward?You could have done someone some serious damage with that poker because you thought they were breaking in!’

  ‘I wouldn’t have used it!’ Georgia looked aghast for a moment. ‘Maybe I was being more stupid than brave, now that I come to think of it.’

  ‘Why did you do it?’

  ‘Because I didn’t want anyone stealing anything of importance to you,’ Georgia replied quietly, swallowing— hard.

  ‘Nothing I own would be worth risking your life for, Georgia.’ His voice lowered tenderly, and Keir tipped up her chin, intent on nothing else but to fulfil the compelling, growing need inside him to feel her soft, inviting lips opening beneath his own.

  As her warm sweet breath feathered invitingly across his mouth, there was a loud knock at the door.

  ‘Georgia? Are you all right, lassie? I heard a noise from up here and thought you might be up and about because you were worried by the storm.’

  ‘Damn!’Cursing harshly, Keir stepped away from Georgia, a sudden irresistible need to break something— flashing through him with almost violent demand.

  ‘It’s Moira,’ Georgia said, her expression torn. She unconsciously moistened her lips with her tongue and made Keir suffer the agony of heightened frustration—because he could not enjoy the same delectable privilege.

  ‘Yes…I heard.’