by Caro LaFever
“Skiff.” His friend answered for the first time in days. He must have felt the threat from hundreds of miles away. “I hear you’ve been burning up the line trying to get a hold of me.”
“I’ve got someone here who needs an internship.”
The teenager in front of him started, his lanky body growing taut. Again, he caught a resemblance to the sister. The way those dark slashes of brows rose in disbelief, while the male version of her aquiline nose shot into the air.
“Hello. How are you. I’m fine.”
Lorne grunted.
“Glad you’re fine too.” Doc’s voice went dry. “Okay. I’ll bite. You’ve found someone in the hinterlands of Scotland who wants an internship.”
“Correct.” He switched the phone from one hand to another, impatient to fix this so he could get on with probing his friend on how to fix the situation with Ceri. “At Gaes headquarters. Under the owner’s direct tutelage.”
His words seemed to hit Elis between the eyes. The teenager looked as if he was about to swoon with joy.
“You?” His partner’s voice went high. “I’m not sure you have the pati—”
“No, I want ye to train him to start. I can take over later.”
“Later.” The thud of a door closing cut off the familiar noise of their main office. “That’s interesting. Who is it?”
“Ceri’s brother.” He kept his eye on the boy, not sure he wouldn’t have to grab him when he fell into a delighted heap. “His name is Elis.”
“Ceri. How is it going with her?”
“As if you wanted to know.” For a moment, he shifted his focus back onto his irritation at his partner. “Where the hell have ye been?”
“Now, now. Calm that temper of yours.” Doc’s voice didn’t change and yet Lorne had the distinct impression he’d been told to back off. “How old is Elis?”
“How old are ye?”
At his barked question, the teenager straightened. “Seventeen.”
“Seve—”
“I heard him.” The beeping sound of his partner’s computer coming online burred from behind his voice. “When does he want to start? Doing what?”
“He wants to start next week. He wants to write code.”
Elis’s eyes widened in stunned ecstasy. And if Lorne had to guess, there was also pure adoration in his gaze, too.
For him. Lorne Ross.
At least he’d won over one sibling. Now that he had Doc back, he just had to figure out how to win the other one, too.
Chapter 26
Ceri had seen the car drive up. The car with a half a dozen boisterous teens hanging from the open windows to say good-bye to Elis. Her brother had waved the catcalls and hooting away before heading for the cottage. He hadn’t even glanced at the castle where he knew she’d be working.
He was so tall. So grown-up. So out-of-reach.
A tight fist of pain wrenched inside her chest.
His text to her last night had been clear. And devastating.
I don’t need you to hover over me when I get to the cottage. I can take care of myself.
She loved him and cared for him. When had that become a crime? But his text had eaten into her heart until the words made it go numb. Fine. He didn’t want her to greet him? Hug him? Welcome him home? Fine. He could deal with what and who was in the cottage all on his own.
“Are ye okay, Ceri?” One of her employees walked to her side, a crease of worry on her face.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Brushing off her emotions, she straightened and headed for the next VIP tour. The group of Japanese car executives and their wives were polite and cordial as she led them through the castle and then into the gardens.
She took one glance at the cottage. Lorne stood by the old dry well, his mobile at his ear, his expression intense. The urge to run down the path to see what had happened between her brother and her lover was almost undeniable.
“This is a lovely line of rowans, Ms. Olwen,” an elderly man commented. “We have several of these in our garden at home.”
Swinging her attention back to where it should be, Ceri plastered on a smile and tried to focus on her work. With no success.
She’d been afraid.
Afraid to tell her brother, who wasn’t the little boy she’d adored for years. Afraid to tell him of the change in her life. It felt too fragile to talk about, this relationship she found so precious to her. Afraid to let Lorne see her fear and come to her rescue as he probably would have. Worried she might say the wrong thing, step too far out, come to a conclusion her lover hadn’t arrived at.
Perhaps not now. Maybe not ever.
Afraid to confront her new life and the repercussions coming from her new choices. Choices of where her heart lay, choices about her loyalties, choices that barreled toward her, whether she wanted them to or not.
Afraid. Amazingly afraid.
Waving at the bus filled with tourists as it pulled out of the parking lot, she turned back to the castle, a frown on her face.
This wasn’t like her.
To be afraid.
She’d survived so much, so much disappointment and disapproval. She shouldn’t let this situation make her into something she was not. A wimpy, weepy sort of creature who languished around, waiting for her lover to make the decisions.
There were decisions to be made.
Hard decisions. Her decisions.
Marching up the stairs, she entered the castle. The woman who handled the ticket sales looked up. “It’s another good day for ye, Ceri,” she said with a grin. “At this rate, you’ll be a toff, for sure.”
Not rich enough. Not rich enough to match a billionaire.
“Is that a fact.” She managed a tight smile.
Stopping in the center of the hall, she glanced around. At the grand staircase leading up to the royal rooms. At the elegantly framed painting of his mother placed above the magnificent marble fireplace. At the Ross tartan rolling across the stone floors, leading the visitors into the past and into this family’s present.
She wasn’t a Ross.
Neither was Elis.
Will had liked to pretend they were family, but they were not. In reality, they were two orphans from Brekelly, Wales, who’d landed in Pictloch because they had nowhere else to go.
Well, her brother had somewhere to go. At least for next year. His beloved Gordonstoun.
She’d only arrived here because it was the closest town to her brother’s school. Her attachment to Will, her care for his estate, her love for his castle—all of that had merely flowed from her simple decision to land here.
Here where she had no real claim and no real past.
Trying to push the thoughts from her head, she said good-bye to her two departing employees and locked the castle behind her. She walked through the garden and paused when she came to her glass house. This last month, with Lorne taking her attention, she hadn’t done more than basic maintenance. She hadn’t nurtured her dream, or finished her plans for the new shop. She hadn’t moved forward into her future.
She stilled.
Her future.
Not a fairy-tale future where a Highland warrior would ride to her rescue and save her. Not a life where a man respected her and honored her. And certainly not a home where she was secure and safe from a world of scavengers.
Walking to the glass door, she placed her hand on the pane and closed her eyes.
Yes, he was precious to her. And yes, she’d let herself fall. Fall far too deeply into him.
Her eyes flashed open.
Not too far, though. She hadn’t fallen so far she didn’t remember what lay in wait. The court case. His demands and claims. Her promise to Will. Her obligation to her brother.
Elis might think he was almost a man, but he was only seventeen. He’d want to go to university with his friends. He’d need books and tuition and cars and housing. There’d be trips he’d want to take and girls he’d want to date.
All of that cost money.
The only way she c
ould make that money was to keep this castle and keep going forward with her dream.
Lorne Ross might be her lover.
But he was also still a threat.
She’d forgotten that. She wouldn’t again.
“Now that we’ve got the internship worked out, let’s talk about Ceri.” Doc’s voice was as cheerful and carefree as always and yet…yet…
“What’s this about your family?” Lorne growled as he strode out of the cottage, slamming the front door behind him. He didn’t want the boy to overhear the next part of this conversation. “I didn’t think ye had a family.”
“I don’t.”
The words were followed by an awful wall of silence. One he’d never experienced with his partner. “Doc?” He stopped pacing, his body going still. “Is something wrong?”
“There’s always something wrong.”
His partner’s voice went cheerful again, making him confused. “What do ye mean by that?”
“I mean I came back to over a thousand emails and a minor employee revolt about what kinds of soda we’re providing.”
The message was clear. Clear enough even Lorne Ross got it. Hugh wasn’t willing to confide.
The realization made his gut twist. So hard of a twist, he ventured forward anyway. “If ye ever need—”
“I don’t. Leave it.”
He reared back, hurt seeping into his veins like poison. “All right. Whatever ye say.”
“What I say is—answer my question.”
“What question?” Dazed at the change in his best friend, he meandered over to the well and sat on the edge.
He’d never been the kind of friend a man confided in. His emotional radar wasn’t that keen, and he’d never found the words to respond in an appropriate fashion. That didn’t mean he didn’t care, though. That didn’t mean he didn’t love his friends.
Didn’t they all know that?
The thought they might not, made the twist inside of him knot into a hard coil.
Doc sighed in exaggerated disgust. “What’s going on with Ceri?”
Ceri.
He’d been distracted for a moment, but his numerous questions rushed back. Logically, if his friend wasn’t willing to talk about what was going on, what could he do? Better to focus on the relationship before him, the one that had become more important to him than any other.
“I’m in love with her.”
Another silence followed his confession, yet this one wasn’t a wall. This one was filled with speechless joy. He felt it all the way from London.
Hugh Brooks might not want to confide to him.
However, he did love him.
The tight, ugly twist inside him unraveled just a bit.
“Lorne.” This time his friend’s sigh was filled with happiness. “You figured it out.”
“Aye. I did.” Running his hands through his hair, he dislodged his bun, but he didn’t care. There were so many questions. “I need to know what ye wanted to tell me before.”
“Ah.”
He could practically see his partner at his desk, a teasing grin on his face, his eyes alight with challenge.
“Ye were right, okay? I said it.”
Doc laughed, his signature, easygoing laugh. The worry he still held for his friend settled. It couldn’t be too serious. Not if Doc could laugh like that.
“Finally, you’ll listen to what I have to say.”
“Tell me.”
“Did your crack security team report to you that Ceri’s mother died of ALS?”
The words hit him right in the center of his chest. Not only because he mourned for his love and her mum, but because he realized he’d never thought of Ceri as having anything in her past he wanted to know about. He’d only focused on the present. The present where she occupied the same bed he did and smiled at him during their conversations. The present where he didn’t have to think about her with his father or think of her seducing other men.
She hadn’t been with his father, though. Not in that way.
So it followed all his other assumptions he’d avoided up until now needed to be looked at.
“Skiff?”
“No, my security team did not mention that fact,” he admitted. “When did it happen?”
“When Ceri was twenty-one,” Doc said. “Guess when her mother was diagnosed with the disease.”
“I don’t know.” He slumped in self-disgust on the well wall. “Tell me.”
“When she turned eighteen.”
He could connect the dots. His friend didn’t have to do it for him. “Shite.”
“Exactly.”
Lorne scowled at the garden and caught the whip of a black ponytail before it disappeared through the castle door. “I’m a wanker.”
“I’ve always said that, too. I’m glad you’re finally listening to me.”
He sighed. “There’s probably more, isn’t there?”
“Yes.” Doc’s computer beeped as if he were flashing through files. “Let’s talk about Elis.”
“I’m putting him in your care when he’s down there,” he warned. “He’s only a wee lad and Ceri will have my head if anything goes wrong.”
“Not to worry.” His partner sounded completely confident. “I babysit interns all day long.”
That was true. And reassuring.
“So what do ye have to tell me about Elis then?”
“He was six when his mother was diagnosed.”
All sorts of questions, questions he should have asked weeks ago, ran through his head. Where were Ceri’s father and Elis’s father? Was it the same man? What was the financial situation they found themselves in? How awful were her choices?
He knew, with a deep instinct, the answers were all bad. “Fuck.”
“Yes, you could say that. She was fucked in more ways than one.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” His hand fisted on his leg. “I want to kill her husband.”
Hugh gave out a short, sharp snort. “The gallant Gareth, who came to our fair lady’s rescue.”
“Fuck.”
“Right,” his friend agreed. “A fifty-three-year-old asshat who made a deal with the prettiest girl in town so she could make sure her mother was taken care of as she died—”
“I swear, I’d kill the bastard if he were still alive.” He lurched up, nausea sliding around in his stomach.
“She also made the deal to save Elis from going into social services.” Doc continued to pile on the guilt. “Her mother was no longer capable, and Ceri was deemed too young. Marrying an older, established, rich Gareth Llewellyn made the difference in establishing custody.”
Gold-digger.
The label he’d thrown at her when they’d first met. The anger and rage he’d shown her. The disrespect and dismissive attitude he’d taken.
“I’m a stupid son-of-a-bitch.”
A silence fell between them again.
“No,” his friend finally said. “You’re not, Skiff.”
“I am.”
“You’re not, because you fell in love with her before you knew all this.”
His brain fizzed with fury. At her damn dead husband. At life for throwing her so much, too much. At himself more than anyone. “I can’t forgive myself.”
“You don’t have to do the forgiving.” Hugh’s voice turned soft. “Ceri does.”
Chapter 27
Watching the sister and brother together opened an entirely different world for Lorne. As an only child, he’d been at the center of his parents’ world. He hadn’t had to share toys or bedrooms. He hadn’t had to negotiate for what he wanted. He certainly hadn’t had to argue.
“I didn’t approve of this change,” Ceri sniped as she slammed into her seat at the kitchen table. “You should have checked with me, first.”
Elis scowled, and his lanky body slid onto the chair across from her.
“Both of you.” She aimed a glare toward Lorne.
Straightening off the kitchen wall, he mentally calculated which argum
ent would win in the fewest minutes. “I’m going to pay him more.”
Her dark brows slashed down and the glare became more pointed.
Wrong argument.
“I want Elis to experience a professional work environment,” she stated, her arms crossing in front of her in a tight grip. “Money isn’t what’s important right now.”
“Money’s always important to ye.” There was a pronounced slap in her brother’s words.
The memory of his chat with Doc a few hours ago rolled into Lorne’s brain and his temper simmered to life. He wanted to take this lad by the back of his neck and shake him. Clearly his sister had never shared the hard choices she’d made for his sake.
But before he could walk over and take the kid in hand, she switched her glare back to her brother and pounced. “Do you think money grows on trees, Elis?”
“Oh, God. Here we go again.” The teenager slouched further down. “If I had a pence for every time ye said that.”
“Wait.” He tried to calm himself and also the two sitting before him. “Gaes offices are completely professional.”
“Really.” She stood and marched to his side, her aquiline nose pointed up like she was ready to sniff at his statement. “I’m supposed to believe this when I see you working in your bare feet with only a T-shirt and jeans on?”
“And underwear. Don’t forget the underwear.” The tease slipped out of him before he could catch it and examine if this was the right way to go with her.
Elis snorted in amusement.
His sister’s eyes narrowed.
Lorne had never argued with a female. Ever. His mum hadn’t been the arguing sort, and none of his female employees objected to what he did. They always directed their complaints to Doc. He stared at her, trying to calculate what sort of response, beyond the tease, would convince her. “I can have Hugh call ye and tell ye our office is professional, if you’d like.”
Now it was the sister’s turn to snort.
“What I wear here isn’t indicative of what I wear in my London office,” he continued doggedly. “Ye must realize that.”
“Must I?” She turned, ready to flounce back to harass her irritated brother apparently.
Grabbing her arms before she could stomp away, Lorne leaned in, matching her glare. “Listen here, Ceri.”
