by Kimber Davis
Reinventing Ivy
By
Kimber Davis
(c)2010 by Blushing Books(r) and Kimber Davis
Copyright (c) 2010 by Blushing Books(r) and Kimber Davis
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Davis, Kimber
Reinventing Ivy
eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-602-4
Cover Design by ABCD Graphics
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This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Chapter One
Ivy MacNaught took a sip of her beer and glanced around the pub. She quickly looked down at her hands. She'd been the focus of attention when she'd entered The Ivy Pub, and it hadn't changed in the last fifteen minutes she'd sat waiting on her new business partner. Muted whispers of "Is that her?" and "She's the one," filled her ears as she focused on her drink.
It wasn't as if she'd asked for this. She'd never even met her father, much less wanted anything from him. Now he was sick, and he was deeding over half a pub in Scotland. Cold, wet, rainy Scotland. As soon as she could sign the papers she would be back in sunny Florida and this whole mess would be nothing more than a bad memory.
She took another sip of her beer and stared into the glass. How could a man who wanted nothing to do with her for thirty-two years suddenly want her to have half of everything he owned? Didn't he have other children to leave things to? Of course, she knew that he didn't. The lawyer had been very clear that her father had never married, except for the very brief period he'd been wed to her mother, and that he had no other children.
"The business is to be split, fifty-fifty, between yourself and Stuart Tavish, he's your father's business partner. Stuart gets the house and belongings, except for a few personal things that your father wanted you to have. And he's very ill, so you need to come quickly."
Ivy shook her head at the idea of personal items belonging to her father that she could possibly want. After all, the man had never even sent her a birthday card, never sent her a Christmas present, never congratulated her on her graduation from high school or college. Sure he'd named his pub after her, but what did it matter, really, after a lifetime of neglect? She wondered if Hamish MacNaught thought to ease his way into the afterlife by making amends to the child he'd abandoned.
"You've the look of your father."
Ivy looked up, and up, and up. She stood and still looked up. The man, or really the bear, standing next to her wore a bemused expression on his face. He had to be at least six foot five. And his shoulders were huge and surrounded by long, dark hair. His blue eyes still held humor and she wondered what he found so funny.
"Mr. Tavish?"
"Aye, Stuart will do." He held out his hand, which swallowed Ivy's as they shook.
She hadn't expected him to be so young, or so handsome. He didn't look like he was even forty years old.
"I'm sorry I couldn't pick you up in Glasgow. I had some things to attend to. But we can load your luggage in the boot and be on our way. It's not too far a ride to the house, but the rain and fog might hold us back, so we need to be moving before sundown."
"House? I thought I would stay here, in town. I made an appointment with the solicitor tomorrow to sign the papers. I'm flying back to Tampa on Monday."
"Monday? That won't give you enough time to go through everything. There's a roomful of family items that need your attention. And if you stay here in town you won't be able to see your father. He's not well enough to come to Leaks. You'll have to postpone your return until after the New Year."
The bottom dropped out of Ivy's stomach.
"I don't think so. I have a job to go back to before then. And what makes you think I want to see my father?"
"A job, truthfully?" Tavish's grin widened. "Because Ham said that you were working as a temporary office employee, flitting from place to place. The money you get from here will keep you fed and clothed for a while, so you won't have to worry about work. And Ham is your da, you need to do right by him and grant him a few last wishes. I'll have your flight booked for around the fifth. That will work. Now, we best be going."
He took her carry-on, and then cheerfully asked the bartender where the rest of her cases were.
Ivy fumed as she watched him lift her two suitcases with ease, sling her carry-on across his shoulder and head out the door. How dare he make decisions for her? And how did he know that she worked for a temp agency? He said Ham had told him. Her father knew where she worked? And how dare Stuart tell her she needed to grant her father a few last wishes? The man had never done anything for her, why should she be beholden to him? Providing sperm didn't make him a "da."
She stormed after Tavish and found him whistling as he loaded her cases in the car's trunk.
"Listen, Mr. Tavish, I have no intention..."
His whistling stopped and for the first time since she'd laid eyes on him, Ivy saw Stuart Tavish frown. And frown deeply.
"No, you listen, Ms. MacNaught. I'm cold, and it's wet, and I have no desire for all of Leaks to hear us discussing your father and other things that are none of their business. I would ask you to get into the car. We can discuss things at the house."
Ivy looked around and realized that he was right. Several people stood in the doorway of the pub. They paid close attention to what was being said, probably so they could repeat it to everyone in the small village.
She bit her lip, and then wrinkled her nose at him when he smiled wickedly. She worked her way to the right side of the car and waited for him to open the door.
"You plan on driving, lass? No skin off my nose if you do, but seeings as how it's my car, you should ask first."
Their audience laughed and Ivy realized that the car was right-hand drive, as were all the cars in this part of the world. She walked to the left-hand side, where Stuart opened the door and helped her inside.
When they were headed out of town, Ivy looked out the window and took a deep breath to steady her nerves.
"How long have you known my father?"
"Almost twenty years now," Stuart replied. "He gave me a job at The Ivy when I was a lad, and he let me rent the apartment upstairs when he realized I had nowhere else to go. He's a good man."
"Right."
"He is, you'll see that."
"Look, I don't mean to burst your bubble, but it will take far more than my father wanting to see me on his deathbed for me to think well of him. I'm thirty-two years old and I've never laid eyes on him. The man's a jerk."
"And how do you know that, if you've never laid eyes on him?"
"I know it BECAUSE I've never laid eyes on him. He walked out on me and my mother."
"You still carry his name."
"Only because my mother insisted, even after she remarried. She always was a softie. By the time I was eighteen and could have it done legally, myself, it wo
uld have posed too much of a problem."
Stuart turned off the main road and the car bumped down a narrow road.
"He wants to do right by you, lass. That's why he's called you here."
"Look, spare me the bleeding heart crap. I'm here for one reason only. My mother insisted that I come. I'm doing this for her, not for him. For some twisted reason she still loves him, even after all the garbage she went through because of him."
"He was a boy."
"Bullshit. He was thirty years old. Old enough to accept responsibility for his family. Don't you dare defend him to me."
The car jerked as Stuart slammed on the brakes. Ivy braced her hands against the dashboard and swore.
"What the hell?"
"Listen, and listen good. Hamish MacNaught is a very ill man. I won't have you upsetting him by going in there and dredging up a painful past. You'll behave yourself and be a good little girl."
"A good little girl? Screw you, Stuart Tavish. I got news for you, I AM Hamish's painful past. If he didn't want to 'dredge me up' he never should have contacted me."
"You'll tone down your attitude before he sees you."
"Stop giving me orders. If you don't like the way I'm acting, then take me back to town and I'll find a hotel, as I planned."
"You'll do as I say."
"Or what?"
The wicked smile that had been on Stuart's face earlier reappeared and a chill ran up Ivy's spine.
"You know what I think? I think your mother spoiled you rotten. She felt bad for the little abandoned baby, and gave you everything you wanted. I bet you were never punished, no matter what you did. I bet you get your way in everything."
The color drained from Ivy's face as his words slammed into her ears. She could see her stepfather standing before her, saying the same thing. And she knew it was true. It was why at thirty-two she'd never done anything with the business degree she'd earned. She knew that her mother would continue to support her, using her stepfather's money, because she felt bad about the way Ivy had been raised for the first fifteen years of her life.
"Don't you dare assume that..."
"I assume nothing. I can tell it's true just by the look on your face. Now, you'll behave yourself or I'll do what someone should have done a long time ago, and take you over my knee."
Ivy laughed. "Fat chance of that. Listen, it's obvious to me that Hamish thinks of you as a son. Take it all, lock stock and barrel. I don't give a shit. Take me back to town. Now."
"Someone needs to wash your mouth out with soap." Stuart grinned and put the car into gear. He put his foot on the gas and the vehicle shot forward.
"Turn around."
"If you want to go back into town, you can walk when we get back to the house. It's only about twenty miles or so. And the temperatures should be around thirty degrees tonight."
"You are a royal pain in the ass."
"I assure you, Ms. MacNaught, that you are an even bigger pain in the ass. And I will warn you one last time. You upset Ham and you'll have me to answer to."
* * *
"She's a pretty little thing."
Stuart stared at Constance, who smiled as she stirred the biscuit batter.
"Do your job and cook."
"I am, lad. I was just saying that she's pretty, just like all the MacNaughts. Black hair and big green eyes, with a pert little nose. Not a very hearty lass, though. We'll have to put some more meat on her bones while she's here."
Stuart shook his head. She might have the look of the MacNaughts, but her attitude left a lot to be desired. She needed a lesson in how to behave herself, as far as he was concerned. When they'd arrive at the house, she hadn't even asked about her father, or about the house, the land, the horses. Nothing. She'd just asked to be shown to her room.
"She's rude."
"She's had it tough."
"Bullocks. She's had plenty of time to come to terms with her life. I didn't have a father, either, and you don't see me treating people like they're dirt. She should have asked to see Ham. There's no telling if he'll make it through the night, or not."
"True," Constance said. "I'm sure you'll help her to see the right of things."
"Aye, I will. Is he up?"
Constance's smile dimmed. "The nurse was down earlier. She said that he was weak today, and thought it best if he waited to meet his daughter until the morning. That gives her more time to become adjusted."
"She needs to be strapped. That will adjust her all right."
A movement in the doorway caught both their attentions. They turned to see Ivy standing just inside, an uncertain look on her face.
Constance laughed. "Just do it in your cottage, so himself doesn't hear and get upset."
"I wouldn't do anything to upset him. I'm afraid I can't say the same thing for his own flesh and blood. She's hell bent on being angry at him."
"Well, I think I would feel anger, too. But you're right. Treating people badly doesn't help things."
"I'm going to go up and check on himself."
"Himself is fine. You're just trying to hide from the girl. I think you like her."
"She's not a girl, and what I'd like to do to her isn't fit for proper conversation."
"Ah ha! See." Constance laughed and shook her finger.
"That's not what I meant. When you finally divorce Zachary, then I'll have the girl for me."
"Oh, be gone with you," Constance said. "I'm far too old for the likes of you. Plus, Zach is my man, and I could never live without him."
Constance's gaze shifted to the doorway. "Come in, lass. You must be hungry. I've fixed a mighty good stew for sup tonight. Lots of meat and potatoes. Good, hearty Scottish food."
"Thanks but I'm not very hungry."
"Poppycock. Won't do you any good not to eat. Sit here. This is the best Angus beef around."
Stuart eyed Ivy as she sat. She wiggled her nose at the stew and then smiled.
"Smells delicious."
"Aye, it is, even if I do say so myself. Now I have to run afore me husband sends out the coppers. I'll see you two tomorrow."
"I'll walk you out," Stuart said.
Then he turned to Ivy. "I'll be right back."
"Don't hurry on my account," she said as she swallowed a bite of food. "I'm fine without you."
He grinned at her and helped Constance gather her things. When they were at her car she loaded the boot and patted him on the shoulders.
"You've got your work cut out for you with that one. Be nice to her, and maybe it will soften her up a bit. Remember that she's meeting her da for the first time in her life. She needs some understanding."
Constance burst out laughing at the look on Stuart's face. Then she patted his shoulder again, and drove off.
* * *
Ivy was still eating when Stuart came back inside. She wiped her mouth and took a drink of water.
"Do you live here?"
"I have a cottage down by the barn, which is about a ten minute walk. Since himself took sick I've been staying here with the nurse, in case something happens in the middle of the night."
"So I suppose I have to meet him after dinner."
"You suppose wrong. The nurse says he's not up to it today. Maybe tomorrow."
"Great. So what am I supposed to do? Sit around and listen to the rain fall?"
"I can show you around. There's some boxes of things he wants you to go through."
"Why would I want to do that?"
"For your heritage, girl."
"Don't call me girl."
"Your father's a good man. He may have made some mistakes in his life, but we all have. He deserves a second chance."
"Second chance? Just because he's dying? I told you that I want nothing of my father's. This whole trip is just a waste of my time. Who gives a damn if he dies?"
"You're a right bitch, you know that?"
Ivy sat bolt upright, her spoon clanking against the side of her now empty bowl.
"Excuse me?"
; "You heard me. It's no small wonder you don't have a job. I wonder if anyone could stand to be around you for more than ten minutes at a time."
"You're no prince, you know."
"Aren't I? Well I've got the likes of you beat."
Stuart stood up and crossed the kitchen island. As he neared, Ivy stood and moved away.
"Ah, you remember what I said, do you? Good. You should be nervous. You need a good spanking. It'll pop your attitude right back where it needs to be."
"And where does it need to be?"
"Appreciative of the fact that the man who sired you wants to make sure you're taken care of after he's gone."
She stared at him for a long few minutes, then shook her head. "You don't get it, do you?" Her voice was soft.
Stuart studied her silently, then shook his head. Maybe Constance was right, and he needed to wind things down just a bit. The lass was obviously very uptight right now.
"Tell me what I don't get."
He watched her take a piece of bread, then dip it into her stew. She ate it, then repeated the process. When she'd done it a third time, she swallowed and said softly, "I hate him. Truly I do."
"He's dying. Can't you find it in your heart to give him just a little compassion?"
The silence reigned again and she repeated the motion with the bread. Finally, she said, "I don't know. I'm not lying when I tell you I've hated him all my life."
Stuart sat down, then turned to her. "I realize you and I have gotten off on the wrong foot, totally. Shall we try it again?"
She gave him a small smile and nodded.
"I'm Stuart Tavish." He held out his hand.
"Ivy MacNaught." His hand swallowed hers again and she tried to smile. "This isn't easy for me, you know."
"Me neither. I never know when I'm going to come home and find out a man I've cared about for a long time is dead."
"Yes, and I'm working hard not to run upstairs and cuss that very same man out."
