Laird of the Highlands: International Billionaires IX: The Scots

by Caro LaFever

  “Think for a minute, lass.” His breath brushed her cheek. “Who’s been working with ye at the castle for all these weeks?”

  Jerking back, she gaped at him. “What do you mean?”

  “The sweet ladies who help ye with the tickets.” His slate-blue gaze never wavered. “The ladies who live in Pictloch, eh?”

  Reality slammed into her like a slug. “You’re right,” she murmured, ugliness simmering in her gut. “They’d have seen us.”

  “Aye.” Drawing back, he stared at her, his gaze searching. “They would have.”

  “And they would have talked in town already.”

  “Now there, ye are wrong.” He let his long fingers draw away from her hands in a slow withdrawal. “Because I had a talk with them.”

  “What?” Reflexively, she grabbed the end of his fingers in a surprised grip. “What did you say?”

  “Are ye guys done talking about this?” Her brother’s voice cut through, sounding nasty and impatient. “Can’t we get going?”

  “Elis.”

  “All right, all right. I’ll just go to the computers for a spell.” The squeak of his trainers echoed down the hall.

  Another imminent teenage rebellion stomped out by Lorne with one word.

  A reluctant smile came to her. “That’s amazing.”

  “What?” Rearing back, his eyes widened.

  “How you do that.”

  “What?” he said once more.

  “Do that thing you do with Elis.”

  Now that they were alone, she felt more assured about touching him. Sliding her hands across his, she brushed along his forearms, relishing the feel of tight muscles and rough, red hair.

  Even though they’d walked into her bedroom each night, leaving Elis in his, she’d still felt uncomfortable about touching. Lorne had chuckled at her when they’d slide into bed and he’d take her into his arms. “Now you’re being a bit of a nutter, Ceri,” he’d say as he tugged off her T-shirt. “Do ye think your brother doesn’t know what’s going on with us?”

  There was one thing about knowing, and an entirely different thing about facing. She’d just rather not face her brother with her sexual life.

  “That thing I do.” Lorne bent his head toward her in confusion. Yet the man could take in more than one thing at a time now. She’d taught him that. He reacted to her touch by edging between her legs, pressing his growing erection into her.

  “Lorne.”

  “Lorne,” he mocked. “Ye like it. Don’t tell me ye don’t.”

  “Not with Elis—”

  “If ye but turn your head, you’ll see your brother isn’t around.”

  “Because you chased him away.” Letting herself, she spread her palms on his chest, enjoying the feel of his heat and his muscle.

  He stilled in her grasp. “Chase him away? I did no such thing.”

  “You did, too.” Smiling wider, she let him know she didn’t mind. “I think my brother will do anything you ask.”

  “Naw. Not true.” He focused on where they pressed together and bumped his hips on hers. “I get attitude all the time from him, too. Don’t think he only gives it to ye.”

  That news soothed her. In a way, everything about this man soothed her. The way he touched her with a kind tenderness that made her heart bleed. The way he looked at her when he told her his truths. The way he’d smoothed out the rough edges of her life and made her feel like he had her back.

  Her enemy. Had her back.

  The contradiction made her frantic and at the same time amused. How had she gotten herself into this? Whatever this was.

  “So anyway,” her lover went on, clearly unperturbed by any contradictions in their relationship. “I had a chat with your ladies and laid it out straight.”

  “Did you?” Her amusement at his blunt way of telling his truth swirled inside a sweet ball of affection. “What did you say?”

  He glanced up, meeting her gaze. “I told them ye were a fine lady and needed to be treated with respect.”

  “Lorne.” Everything inside her turned to mush.

  “I also told them the new laird might be a wee bit touchy about any gossip about ye.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” Though the fact he had made her heart rise with joy.

  “Didn’t I?” He tilted his head again, puzzlement crossing his face. “Isn’t that what a man should do? Make sure his woman is protected?”

  She’d protected herself and hers for so long, she’d become quite good at it. Being tough and strong had become second nature, and she’d never cede those skills or those benefits to another. Not even Lorne. Yet, she had to admit to a womanly sigh of relief at his claim. “I can protect myself.” She flipped the words at him more as a tease than a claim of offense.

  “Eh, right, right.” He nodded, his red-gold brows furrowing. Not catching her tease, he’d taken her literally again. “I don’t mean any disrespect.”

  Amusement, affection, relief, happiness—a flood of emotions threatened to engulf her. “I know.”

  He gave her a look as if trying to gauge her mood. “Are we all right, then?”

  “Yes, we’re fine.” Running her palms across his chest and down his arms, she tightened her hands on his. “We’re more than fine.”

  “I’m thinking—”

  “Lorne.”

  He gave her another look, calculation swimming in his eyes. “I was just going to say—”

  “Lorne.”

  Exasperation crossed his face. “What?”

  “Thank you.” She wanted to say more. She wanted to give him the thumping heart in her chest and tell him what he’d done meant more to her than anything anyone else had ever done. But some small, tiny wedge of remaining hurt and pain kept the words clogged in her mouth. “Thank you for talking to my employees.”

  “It wasn’t a problem.” He shrugged, yet the flush rising on his cheeks told her he was more than pleased. “So you’ll come with us to Pictloch then? I’m thinking your brother must be close to starvation at this point.”

  Laughing, she let go of her fears and placed herself in Lorne Ross’s capable, rawboned hands. “Yes, I’ll come with you.”

  Chapter 29

  “Ye went to Pictloch and had no problems. In fact, ye had a good time, if I’m remembering correctly.” Lorne’s slate-blue gaze glared at her from across the kitchen table. “So I’m not understanding why ye can’t go to Edinburgh with me.”

  As usual, her lover was nothing if not logical. Ceri supposed it made complete sense to him that if she could conquer her fears about Pictloch, she should have no qualms about tackling the anonymity of a city.

  He’d been right about Pictloch.

  So, naturally, he’d be right about going to Edinburgh.

  Right?

  Not right.

  Her fears weren’t centered on facing gossip. She didn’t like dealing with the slurs and slights, but she’d grown a tough hide as a young woman, and if she had to face them, she could. No, her fears lay deeper, in a cold knot of pain she didn’t want to bring out and examine. The fear of gossip had been another shield she’d used to try and distract Lorne from digging further. She’d known that even as she’d used her confession. But her lover wasn’t stopping, he kept coming.

  The realization made her angry.

  “Stop pushing,” she snarled, before standing and stomping down the hall.

  Her dogged lover followed her, the slap of his bare feet on the stone floor telling her so.

  Marching into their bedroom, she tried to ignore his looming presence in the doorway.

  “All right,” he said gently. “There appears to be some other things we need to talk about.”

  “No, there’s not.” She flung herself on the bed and peered at the ceiling. “I worked the entire day and I’m tired, that’s all.”

  For the last three days, since Elis had left for London, she’d worked like a demon. Lorne had made a few noises about the number of tours, but she’d booked them,
and she couldn’t get out of them.

  She still needed the money.

  The realization made her worry escalate.

  There’d been moments in the last few days, moments when she’d glance at him and see something on his face that made her heart blaze with joy. She’d half-hoped, half-wished that after her brother left, Lorne would say something. Something about being in love with her or changing his mind about the court case or understanding that things had changed at Castle Ross forever.

  He’d liked her plans for her business.

  He’d said they were brilliant.

  But those plans meant changes to his home that would be permanent. There’d be a shop on the grounds and a restaurant revolving around his heritage. There’d be more strangers tromping in his garden. There’d be guided tours describing the natural plants on his lands—far more tours than Will had ever envisioned. His home would never be the same. Never be like the one he’d grown up in.

  His home. His lands. His heritage.

  Lying on the bed, the bed they’d shared, made the conflict inside her all the more real.

  So real. So hard.

  Ceri’s chest tightened in an attempt to stop the tears. The tears she hadn’t shed yet. The ones she’d kept inside herself as the knowledge seeped into her soul.

  This was Lorne Ross’s home.

  More than hers. More than Elis’.

  She could pretend falling in love with this man hadn’t changed her outlook on who should get what, and who should win this battle simmering below their lovemaking. She’d pretended her entire life. But with this man, this love, this situation…deep inside, she already knew. She wouldn’t be able to pretend. Not when it came down to the final decision.

  Her only sorry hope was one she’d never thought to pin herself on.

  Did he love her? Did he share the same shift of objectives she’d experienced?

  Every day that passed, she waited. Hoped. Every day her lover didn’t say anything about their future, and she’d been too afraid to bring it up.

  Afraid. Of so many things.

  “I’m thinking we might want to revisit your workload, Ceri.”

  A clutch of fear and horror and hope made her hands fist at her sides. Because she couldn’t decipher if he meant to ease her life, or ease her out of this life for good. “No. We don’t need to talk about that again.”

  A soft sigh whispered across the room. “Elis told me you’d be stubborn about the situation.”

  They’d said goodbye to an excited Elis last week. Her brother had been as elated as she’d ever seen him. He’d even bounded over to her, to give her a big hug. A rare occurrence nowadays.

  “Thanks, Sis.” He’d also given her a grin. “Thanks for agreeing to this change with the internship.”

  “I want you to pay attention to what Doc says.” She leaned back in his arms, staring at him. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Elis grimaced and pulled away from her.

  “Ceri.” Lorne’s voice had come from behind them, gentle and quiet. “Your brother isn’t stupid.”

  It hadn’t been exactly a rebuff, the kind he’d been giving her brother every time he stepped out of line, but it had been close.

  Surprised, she turned to stare at him. He stood aside from them, as usual, leaning on the cottage’s open front door. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know ye didn’t.” His expression was contemplative, unaggressive. Yet she sensed the implacability behind it. “Sometimes, though, ye go too far.”

  “Now wait a minute.” A confused well of emotion swished inside her. She’d been in charge of her brother for so long—the only person who worried, the only person who cared—she didn’t know quite what to do with this person confronting her. A man who’d strode into their lives and came right into the middle of their relationship. “I need to take care of Elis.”

  Her brother snorted in familiar disgust.

  “I understand.” Lorne eased off his lounge on the doorway and walked to stand in front of her. “But, Ceri—”

  “What?” Hurt at Elis’ disgusted look, and bewildered at how fast everything was changing, she glared at her lover.

  “I’m thinking,” he grabbed her hand before she could move away, “the lad needs to do some taking care of himself.”

  She frowned at him, a roiling sense of displacement making her angry and sad at the same time.

  Those slate-blue eyes never wavered. “Remember when we went to town two nights ago.”

  “Yes,” she snapped.

  Yet the memories did soothe her in a slight sort of way. The banter between Elis and her as they’d ambled down the main street together, Lorne walking behind them in quiet companionship. The welcome they’d received when they’d entered the Rose and Thistle. Smiles and waves, no gossip at all. The relief she’d felt, the happiness at being with her two men.

  “Then you’ll be remembering when Chief Inspector Bruce showed up.”

  The one lone ripple of ugliness to the visit. The memory shot through her, as well as the realization of where Lorne was taking her.

  The Chief had been his usual nasty self. He’d spotted them from the pub’s doorway and immediately sauntered over to say hello. Within a few minutes, he’d ventured into his usual sly way of putting her down.

  And her brother had put a stop to it.

  Just like that.

  Elis had eyed the man, gave him a ferocious scowl, and told him to shut up and leave.

  Surprisingly, the man had left.

  Ceri had gaped at her brother with astonishment. Lorne had leaned across the table and patted him on the back. Her brother, the little baby she’d been more mother to than sister, the little boy who’d trailed behind her as she cleaned their small flat…that child wasn’t a child anymore.

  This is what Lorne was pointing out.

  He was right.

  “Okay,” she admitted in a puff of acceptance. “I see what you’re saying.”

  Elis gave his defender a big grin. “Thanks.”

  “Come on, then, lad.” Grabbing her car keys, her lover had strode to the door. “Let’s get ye to the train station.”

  He’d offered to drive Elis because she’d had three tours scheduled for the day. Strangely, he’d insisted on taking her car, not the Range Rover still standing in the castle’s parking lot. As far as she could remember, he hadn’t used the thing since he’d come back from Edinburgh weeks ago, the night he’d moved into the cottage.

  “Is there something wrong with your car?” she’d quizzed.

  “Not something wrong, exactly.” His gaze had flashed to hers and for the first time, she’d swear he was hiding something from her. “And since it’s your brother we’re talking about here, your car should be the one getting him to the station.”

  She’d agreed, giving him a puzzled look he didn’t meet.

  He sighed again, from the other side of their bedroom, bringing her back to the present. “I did something ye probably won’t like.”

  Turning her head on the pillow, she squinted at him. “What?”

  “I talked to Rose when we were in Pictloch the other night.”

  She frowned, trying to think of what these two could possibly need to discuss. “What about?”

  “Did ye know your friend enjoys local history?” His stance still spoke of calm and ease, yet she sensed the growing tension underneath.

  “No.” She thought about admitting she hadn’t allowed Rose to be close enough to call her a friend. But Lorne might question that, too, and she had enough of his poking around to deal with.

  “Well, she does.” He shifted on his feet as if preparing for battle. “I asked if she had enough staff to cover for her at the pub.”

  “Why do you care about that?” she said, growing more and more confused.

  “She said she did. And she welcomed the challenge I gave her.”

  “What challenge?”

  “To do some tours for ye.” Keeping his gaze steady, he met her
outraged look. “So ye could take some time away.”

  “I don’t want to take time away or go anywhere,” she cried. “Why can’t you accept this?”

  “I’m not saying we should go to Edinburgh tonight.” He moved into the room and leaned on the wall by her nightstand. “I’m proposing we travel the day after next, and stay in my new place for a few days.”

  “I can’t. I’ve got tours scheduled.” Closing her eyes, she willed him to let this go.

  “Like I said, Rose is willing to cover for ye.”

  He clearly wasn’t getting the message.

  Ever since she’d become a pawn in Gareth’s life, there’d been no going back. Back to the young girl who played with makeup and dreamed of being a princess. Back to the girl who liked to try on clothes and be pretty. Because being pretty had brought her nothing except devastation. Yes, it had saved her mam and her brother, her prettiness. But it had left her a shell of the girl she’d been. The girl she’d never be able to reclaim even if Lorne Ross threw all his billions away in the effort.

  “No. I’m not going.”

  He went silent as he often did when he was puzzling over something. The love she barely acknowledged for him swam in and around the irritation she held up as a shield.

  Opening her eyes, she glared at him. “Why can’t you just let this go?”

  “Ceri.” He padded to the bed, his expression filled with a mix of tenderness and exasperation. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “It is.” Her throat hurt, a ball of tense fear and fury lodged tight inside. “It’s a big deal to me.”

  “All right.” Lorne eased on the bed by her side and took one of her hands. “Then tell me why.”

  “I don’t like big towns or big cities.” It was the best she could give him.

  “And why is that?” His long fingers played with hers, a game they’d developed during the last few weeks.

  His tenderness and playfulness couldn’t conquer her past. She was sure of it. “I just don’t.”