The Mammoth Book of Scottish Romance

by Trisha Telep

  Kat took a bite of the silky smooth smoked salmon. “What’s your business?”

  “I’d rather not blether about it now, because it’s nothing but trouble. How about you? Do you have a business, or does your husband want to keep you at home for himself?”

  Kathy’s knitting business was in a corner of a shared artspace and she was constantly anxious that the rent would be increased. She loved her store, but it was far from her dream business, so she replaced the reality with the dream. “I live in the Northern California countryside and raise sheep and goats. It’s very beautiful and I have week-long retreats there for women … and the occasional man … to learn knitting techniques and needlecrafts. My next step is a course in hand-dying wool and I’m ordering looms.”

  Calder’s eyes twinkled. “Are you now? And I thought I was old-fashioned.”

  “The old is new again, Calder. Teens are excited to carry on traditions.”

  “Do you do this all on your own?”

  She did everything on her own, including repairing the plumbing and installing the light fixtures. “Heavens, no, I have staff. Things are going so well that I’m going to expand my retreats. I’ll have chefs to teach cooking sessions, authors to lead writing workshops, and vintners and cheesemakers to have lectures and tastings.”

  His eyebrows knitted together and, maybe it was the champagne, but Kat thought she’d never seen such a charming expression. He said, “What an interesting occupation. Do you have classes year-round?”

  “Oh, yes! In summer, we sit under the trees and work for hours before all cooking a meal together. We make jams and jellies from the fruits grown on the property. In the winter, we gather in the great room, with a fire in the hearth keeping us warm, and bake bread and make stews. We drink local wines, play the piano, and sing.” Kat could describe it because she’d envisioned the scenes hundreds of times. “People come back year after year.”

  “Are there other retreats like this in the States?”

  “There are weekend retreats and even cruises, but I think my place is special,” she said. “But I don’t want to bore you.”

  “You aren’t boring me in the least, Kat. I think your country estate must be quite civilized, because I can’t imagine you chasing goats out of the lounge.”

  Kat ran her fingers up and down the stem of the champagne flute. “We’re talking about me again.”

  “It’s become my favourite subject.”

  They ate quietly for several minutes and finally the waiter brought their second courses, trying to find room for them on the small tabletop. When he had gone, Calder said, “You can ask me anything you like.”

  “You can tell me whatever you choose.”

  He considered and then said, “My mother and aunts knit beautifully. Although when I was a boy, I didn’t appreciate wearing handmade jumpers and long scarves. I wanted to wear what the other lads were wearing, track jackets and anything with sports logos.”

  “You were a heathen.”

  “To be sure. I would purposely fall from my bike or skateboard hoping to destroy things, but then my mother would mend them, which made things worse. My mates would all laugh at me.”

  So Calder was a poor boy who’d made good in the big city, she thought. A boy who didn’t understand thriftiness and gifts made with love. A careless boy who had become a careless man.

  “School?” she asked.

  “Hated it, but I did exceedingly well, because when I do anything, I do it exceedingly well. Anything.”

  Calder’s upper body didn’t move, but Kat felt his leg against her own, making her every nerve jump. It was only the lightest, possibly accidental touch, but Kat didn’t think so when she saw the smile playing on his lips. She was suddenly thinking of what else he did quite well.

  “Calder, if you need more room for your legs, you can set your chair back.”

  “My legs are comfortable where they are. I thought yours might be cold,” he said, pressing his leg more boldly against hers.

  His flattery and confidence excited and confused her, because he was so very beautiful, and she was just … “If you think you’re entitled to anything because you’re picking up the bill, you’re wrong. I came here expecting to pay for my own meal, not to trade favours for it.”

  “I wasn’t implying …”

  She took a bite of the delicious fresh halibut and enjoyed his chagrined expression. “It’s all right,” she said.

  “You’ll forgive me?”

  “I’m forgiving a lot of people today. Yes.”

  “Who else needs forgiveness?”

  “A friend who told me I should come on this trip. She claims to have ‘the sight’, and said I’d meet a man in a kilt.”

  “Don’t mock ‘the sight’. Many women in my family have it.” He grinned roguishly. “I have a kilt.”

  “So does every man in every tourist shop here.”

  Sighing dramatically, he said, “You’re making me feel very unappreciated.”

  “I’m sure your ego will recover.”

  “It will if you’ll still allow me to pay for the meal.”

  “Yes, but only because I feel sorry for you, Calder,” she said, and they laughed together.

  Dessert came and their conversation became lighter, although Kat was always aware of his long legs under the table, his blue eyes, and the tension between the two of them. Between Calder and confident, sexy Kat.

  She’d wondered what he’d ordered last and, as it turned out, the Highland Park was a single-malt scotch. Calder lifted his glass to her and said, “Most welcome sunshine on a chilly day. Hold it in your mouth and let it bloom inside.”

  Even though he hadn’t said anything improper, Kat thought it sounded dirty. Maybe it was her imagination, which kept thinking of what those large hands would feel like on her skin. She took a sip of the drink and tasted an almost honeyed sweet note, faint smoke and peat, orange blossoms, unlike anything she’d had before. “It’s delicious.”

  “The distillery is in Orkney. The islands are said to be inhabited by trows.”

  Orkney sounded familiar, and she remembered the marvellous painting she’d seen. “What are trows?”

  “Like leprechauns, though not as nice. Evil hideous little buggers that cause naught but mischief in the night.”

  “Have you ever seen one?” she teased.

  “My mother says that I am one,” he answered. “A giant trow baby, so big that they feared what I would become, so the trows stole away her own buey bain and placed me in his crib, which is why I’ve a passion for music and song, like my true wicked kin. They say that at the weetin’ of my heid,” and here Calder tapped his head to show her what he meant, “I toasted my father and asked him for a proper tipple.”

  She laughed in a way she hadn’t since she was young. “Your suit is camouflage then, like your brogue, which comes and goes. You’re trying to pass as a civilized human being, but there’s still some wildness in you.”

  “Perhaps you can domesticate me, Kat.”

  “I’m sure other women have tried and failed.”

  He winked and said, “There’s always the first time.” He held his glass so that it caught the light from the candle on their table. “This is the same amber as your eyes, Kat.”

  “Does your wife know you flirt like this?”

  “If I had a wife, she’d know. Would you like to marry me?”

  “Not now. Ask me later.” She took another sip of the scotch and felt tingly and sexy.

  “Then would you like to hear some music? Or if you prefer some place posh …”

  “I’d like to go where the locals go.”

  She was aware of the maitre d’s satisfied glance as they left together. Calder helped her into her coat and stared at her oddly when she had it on.

  A valet brought Calder’s car, and Kat had a moment of trepidation as Calder held the door open for her. “You won’t kidnap me, will you?”

  If he had answered, “You can trust me,” the cat
ch phrase of every sleazy man she’d ever met, Kathy would have said goodnight and caught a taxi. But Calder said, “Nae, lassie, because I think you’ve a taste for the finer things, and I’m still a bit of a heathen.”

  Calder drove to an outlying neighbourhood and turned into a car park. “If you don’t like it I’ll take you back to your hotel, or wherever you wish to go.” He got out and opened the car door for Kat, and then led her down a lively street of shops, cafés and restaurants. Music thump-thumped outside the pub, and Calder paid for their entrance, took her arm, as he guided her inside the packed room.

  A rollicking bar band blasted out a brash folky-rock song, and they found space standing against a wall. Calder leaned down to speak into her ear and she could smell his faint woody aftershave. He said, “Is this acceptable?”

  Kat looked up into his dark eyes, smiled and nodded. “Yes.”

  He shrugged out of his jacket and helped her off with her coat, and then he got drinks for them. Kat quickly drank a bottle of water, hoping to clear her head because she felt dizzy from the music, Calder beside her, the heat of the room, the loud voices. He said, “Will ye dance wi me?” and drew her into the melee. She felt the thrill of dancing wildly on a Friday night in an exciting city with a sexy man.

  One song led to another and another and then there was a slow number, and Calder pulled her close. When he looked into her eyes, her breath caught. She felt the muscles in his back and the slight dampness of the shirt clinging to his skin; his hand on her lower back, his fingers extending down to her hip.

  When the song was over, he kept his arm around her waist and said, “It’s hot in here.” He grabbed their coats and led her out a side door and into a narrow dark alley. The drizzle and chill night air were delicious on her hot skin, and Calder pulled her tightly to him and bent down to kiss her.

  It wasn’t a tentative, gentle, first-date kind of kiss. It was firm and hungry, an uncivilized, dangerous kiss, and she opened her mouth and felt his tongue slide in against hers. He tasted of scotch and his hands dropped lower on her hips, clutching her to his own.

  She’d reached into his shirt, feeling the hot skin beneath, and his hands were moving now, too. She had the giddy sense that someone would catch them like this, kissing as madly as teenagers.

  His mouth went to her ear, her neck, the curve of her breast, and he said huskily, “Kat … do you want to go to your hotel?”

  She thought of the tiny room, the thin mattress, and said, “Where are you staying?”

  “Close by. No one is there.”

  “Let’s go,” she said, which was crazy because she never did things like this. Or Kathy never did. Kat was laughing with Calder as he took her hand and they rushed to a nearby residential block off the main road.

  The townhouse looked very expensive and old, with steps leading to two glossy black doors. Calder unlocked one and he held Kat’s hand as they went upstairs. He flicked on a lamp when they reached the landing. She saw a wide dining room that opened to a living room with polished hardwood floors, creamy walls, modern furniture and abstract oil paintings.

  Calder turned to her and ran the back of his fingers over her cheek. She leaned into his caress, and he said, “You’re quite beautiful, you know, like this, your hair every which way and your makeup smudged and looking like a wild creature. A very beautiful wild Kat.”

  He kissed her as they went down the hall. She saw the door to the bathroom, and said, “I’ll just be a moment.” When she was alone and the door closed, she took a minute to wonder if this was what she wanted to do, and the answer was yes, yes, yes. She freshened up, but left her hair as it was, a mass of corkscrews and frizz.

  When she came out, she saw light from an open doorway and went to it, saying, “Calder?” Fragrant beeswax candles in pewter candlesticks cast a soft glow on a stylish room in ivory and sea-green with black minimalist furniture. Calder smiled at Kat she went to him. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing it gently.

  Then he said, “Kat, I think you’re a woman who always gets what you want, when you want it, but we’ll take things at my pace now.”

  She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and felt a flush of annoyance. “Why the rush?”

  “On the contrary, I’m going to show you the value of patience.” He ran his forefinger over her lips softly and she opened them and took his finger into her mouth, sucking and biting down. She saw the rise and fall of his chest and reached out, but he stepped back and said, “Patience, Kat.”

  She was so surprised – and very intrigued.

  Calder just stared at her for a moment, up and down, his eyes resting longest on her breasts, then moving downward in a way that made her body tense and excited. He leaned down and began kissing above the deep v-neck of her dress. His fingers would lightly graze the curve of her breasts and then move to stroke her hip.

  Hers was an ordinary body, with practical hips and practical breasts, and a practical small curve of tummy, and legs that could stand or walk all day long. But Calder’s touch made her feel the wonder of it, the loveliness of being a woman.

  She let out a small sound of pleasure when he pulled the fabric of her dress up to caress her thigh. His fingers explored the lace tops of her thigh highs and his eyes widened. He let her hem fall again, and began running his fingers beneath her neckline into the cups of her bra. When she’d press towards him, he’d stop and nuzzle her neck.

  Thrilled and frustrated, she stood still. Finally, he tugged at the tie that held her dress closed, slowly unwrapping the dress and letting it fall to the white sheepskin rug. He gazed at her in her black bra, panties, thigh-highs and heels, and he inhaled deeply.

  “Silk stockings,” he said, pleased. “You’re full of surprises, Kat.”

  She watched as Calder pulled off his shirt. The hair on his chest was dark and his shoulders were muscled. She thought of his story about being a trow.

  He was leisurely as he removed his belt, his shoes and socks, and finally his trousers and briefs, and stood facing her, just out of her reach. He was even more beautiful now, naked and primal and fully excited. She wanted to drop to her knees and take him in her mouth, and she shivered with anticipation.

  He picked her up and laid her on the bed, standing beside it and gazing at her for long seconds. Then he leaned over and began kissing her belly, circling his tongue on the sensitive nerves of her navel, and she raked her fingers through his thick dark hair.

  His tongue moved to her panties. He nipped the fabric and pulled it up, and slid his finger beneath, but only at the edge. Then he moved towards her stockings, running his fingertips along the lace tops, brushing his fingers ever so lightly down the silk on her legs.

  He took off one of her heels and kissed the top of her foot, and then did the same with the other, and used his thumbs to press into her arch. He stroked upwards along her legs now, and she was trembling with anticipation when he put his mouth on her silk panties, his warm breaths coming through the thin material.

  When she arched her hips, wanting him, he said, “Not yet.” He flipped her over on to her stomach and then got on the bed and straddled her. Slowly, but firmly, he kneaded the muscles that ran along her spine, from her shoulders down. She felt his hardness pressing against her. She didn’t want him to draw away again, so she gripped the pillow to keep from reacting, but she couldn’t help making small noises of mingled pleasure and desire.

  Every inch of her body tingled with sexual awareness in a way she’d never experienced before.

  Kat felt Calder unclasp her bra and then his warm mouth kissed her back, all the way down. He turned her over again and pulled the bra straps off her arms. He threw the delicate garment across the room, and his breathing was rough and fast.

  When Calder took her nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue, the sensation electrified her. He reached to her other nipple, teasing it, until she was saying, “Please, please, please!” and reaching down for him and raising her hips upwa
rd, trying to urge him to hurry.

  He sat back on his heels and said, “Good things come to those who wait, Kat.”

  She swallowed and forced herself to lay back. When she was still, he pulled down her panties and spread her legs. “Oh, Kat,” he said before sliding down and tenderly kissing the insides of her thighs. When he did more, she could no longer stay motionless. He pushed her thighs up and did impossibly marvellous things with his fingers, lips, tongue.

  Every time she felt the pleasure in her rising to its cusp, he’d pull back, until she thought she couldn’t bear it anymore. “Please, Calder, please!” she cried out, and he finally moved up on the bed. He reached to the nightstand, opened a drawer and took out a condom. He tore open the package, and she reached for the condom and rolled it over him with trembling hands.

  Then Calder finally entered her, filling her, and taking her up and over the edge until all she felt was wave after wave of pleasure. She thought the feeling couldn’t continue, but he didn’t stop until the sensation increased more intensely and she was crying out and sinking her fingernails into his hips, urging him on harder and faster.

  Then they shuddered together and her arms went limp. They were breathing heavily, damp with sweat, and she felt in a daze with the sheer joy of it all.

  He brushed a curl from her forehead and said, “My beautiful wild Kat,” then kissed her tenderly before slowly slipping away and moving to lie beside her.

  She admired the width of his shoulders and the way his dark hair curled at his neck. Kat rolled to her side to face him. She kissed his mouth and his chest and then put her arms around him.

  He stroked her head and said, “You were very patient.”

  “It was worth it.”

  “Good, because it nearly killed me,” he said, and she felt his chest shake with laughter. “I wanted you the moment I saw you sitting so self-assured by yourself.”

  She remembered watching Calder on the street, and how she yearned for him then. “Calder, you’re beautiful,” she said and ran her hand over his back and his firm hip.

  “You’re indulging yourself on holiday, darlin’. You’ll go back to your husband or lover … which is it?”