"Whaaat!” Maggie exclaimed.
Natasha heard Ranald talking in the background and Maggie saying, “Wait, Ranald. Let the lass explain and then I’ll tell ye what’s happening.” Getting back to Natasha, she asked, “Why on earth do you think they’re after you?”
"I don’t just think so, Maggie, I know so. They think I have damaging evidence against them.”
“Why would they think that?” Maggie sounded utterly perplexed.
“Because Tony, the guy I was dating a while ago, had incriminating information about the mob on a flash drive that he was going to turn over to the Fed.”
“Why is the mob after you if Tony has it?”
“Because Tony is dead and the police think he was murdered. But that’s not all. Someone trashed my apartment yesterday looking for the flash drive.”
Maggie gasped. “The good Lord above have mercy on us! Have you gone to the police?”
“Yes. They’re investigating it, but they can’t guarantee my safety 24/7. I’m going to have to leave here."
"You bet!” Maggie cried. “Come to Glenhaven. Ranald and I would love to have you here again.”
"Thank you for offering, but I can’t put the two of you in danger."
"Och, don't be daft. Glenhaven is verra far away from New York. Even if it were close, the thick stone walls of the castle would keep you safe. You must come.” She paused. “Dinna fash about Ian. He’s traveling to London tomorrow and won't be coming to Glenhaven.”
Natasha knew that already, but she didn’t want to get into her injury and the fact that she’d been to Ian’s office.
Maggie continued, “The lad has pressing business in London, but he said he had return to his patients in New York."
Lad was not the word Natasha would have chosen for someone as formidable as Ian, but his Aunt Maggie would always see him as a lad since she'd helped raise him after his mother's death. He was the son Maggie and Ranald never had, and Ian loved them very much.
“Stop swithering over it. You must come right away,” Maggie urged.
“I’m not sure I can. I still have to find a place for Evita.”
“Bring her with you. Aren’t I her godmother?” Maggie said with mock offense.
“Yes, you are,” Natasha said with an indulgent smile. Maggie hadn’t even met Evita, but right away she’d appointed herself as her godmother.
“When you have your flight information, email us. Ranald will meet you at Inverness Airport and drive you to Glenhaven.”
"That’s very kind of you. I can’t wait to see you and Ranald again. Thank you so much!"
"You’re welcome. I can hardly wait too, lovey. Everything will be fine once you're back at Glenhaven."
Natasha hung up with nostalgic eagerness to see Maggie and Ranald again…and the splendor of Glenhaven Castle.
Whoever said life got easier as you got older? Oh yeah, Dad. Dear Dad who always looked on the bright side of life, unlike his difficult wife. How could two opposite people who constantly fought still be married? Why her easygoing Midwestern father ever married high strung Anitra in the first place, Natasha would never know, but they remained married, living separate lives while Dad taught in Boston and Anitra currently performed in the West End in London.
Turning her thoughts away from her puzzling parents, Natasha drew in a deep breath and dialed her agent’s number.
“Hey hon, how’s the leg?” Marty said, the minute he answered.
“It’s healing. But I have another more pressing matter I need your help with, Marty,” Natasha said.
After she explained her complicated and dire situation, he agreed to re-negotiate her contract with a leave of absence. He wasn’t happy about it, especially since it involved a loss of revenue for both of them, but he agreed that her safety came first.
Relieved that Marty was looking out for her career, Natasha sent emails to her dad and her younger brother Robert, telling them she had a minor leg injury and needed to leave the show to recuperate. Next she dialed Anitra’s number in London. There was no getting around it. Soon the news that she’d been replaced by Lisette would hit the media and Anitra would come barreling forward to intervene. She wanted to avoid that at all costs. Anitra was a control freak and barely tolerated, but revered, in the performing world because of her numerous Tony Awards.
When Anitra didn’t answer and her recorded message came on, a dull ache settled in the pit of Natasha’s belly along with vast relief that she wouldn’t have to deal with her. The only time Anitra seemed interested in her was if it concerned Natasha’s career, and that’s exactly when Natasha wanted her to butt out. When she first realized Natasha had inherited her extraordinary vocal range, Anitra had tried to groom her as a mini-me, urging her to dye her hair black like her own, but Natasha wouldn’t have it. She didn’t share her mother’s ruthless ambition or her huge ego.
Natasha had spent her youth trying to live up to her mother’s stringent expectations until the fateful day she ended things with Ian. In a moment of panic, Natasha had heeded to her mother’s words. You’ll be stepping back in time a hundred years if you move to Glenhaven. Think! Do you want to throw everything away you’ve worked so hard for? You’re young and destined to be a star. Act like it! If he truly loves you, he’ll let you fly.
The moment Natasha broke off her engagement with Ian, she regretted it, but it was too late. The damage had been done and Anitra had swept in like an avenging angel, facilitating Natasha’s entry into stardom. Caught up in the glory of her first role on Broadway, it was a while before the glamour faded and Natasha realized how urgently Anitra had fought to separate them. When Natasha had tried to talk to Ian, he’d refused her calls. He’d also returned her letters unopened, breaking her heart with his stubbornness.
Shaking off the wretched memories, Natasha packed two suitcases, one for herself and one for Evita, and then concentrated on searching the Internet for flights to Inverness.
In the midst of her search, Michael the doorman called. “Natasha, a Dr. Ian MacGregor is here to see you. Should I let him up?”
Ian was in her building? “Okay, but please ask for his ID before you let him up.” After the break-in yesterday, she wasn’t taking any chances.
Natasha stepped into the hall and waited for Ian to come up. The moment he emerged from the elevator, her pulse pounded wildly. Impeccably dressed in a dark olive bonded Burberry trench coat, his thick dark hair was tousled from the wind and his sharp cheekbones were tinged pink from the crisp autumn air. Natasha shivered at the purposeful glint in his silver-green eyes as he strode toward her.
“Ian. Why are you here?” With shaky hands, she closed the door behind her and stood with her back to it, summoning as much composure as she could in spite of her pounding heart.
“You have to ask?” His unswerving gaze held her hostage as he closed the distance between them. “Your injury yesterday wasn’t an accident, was it?”
“I honestly don’t know,” she said, dread inching up her spine when she realized she was going to have to tell him about Tony…eventually.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were in trouble?” he demanded, his voice low and controlled.
Her chin shot up. “I’m not in trouble.”
Ian’s hands closed over her shoulders and squeezed just enough to get her attention. “Well, you’re definitely in danger.” When she remained silent, he searched her eyes intently. “Are you all right, then?”
“I’m fine.” Natasha swallowed against the lump in her throat brought on by his kindness and interest in her well-being. But who was she kidding? He’d obviously been sent by his Aunt Maggie to check on her.
“Darn that Maggie,” she said, flushing. “She promised she wouldn’t say anything to you until I got things sorted out.”
Ian released her shoulders and shook his head. “It wasn’t Maggie. Ranald had the sense to call me the minute Maggie hung up with you. You should have told me what was going on, Tasha,” he chastised.
&nbs
p; What kind of game did he think she’d been playing with him? “That’s not fair. All this happened after I went to see you!” she said, her hands clenched at her sides.
“Have you packed your bag yet?”
“Yes.”
“Is your passport up to date?” he asked briskly.
“Yes. Everything’s in order. I’ve traveled before, you know.” She gave him an exasperated look.
“Get your things. I’m taking you to Scotland. The executive jet is waiting.”
Astonished, she reared back and gawked at him. “But I thought you were going to London.”
“I am, after I drop you off in Inverness,” he said simply.
Natasha was speechless. He would be going out of his way to take her there first and then backtrack to London. Why?
“Are you ready?” he said, his words tinged with a Scottish burr.
Was she ready? Natasha privately rejoiced at the unexpected turn of events, but jittery nerves quivered deep in her belly. Ian’s vibrant energy flowed straight into her vulnerable heart as she stood there helplessly staring at him. It had only been hours since he’d doctored her wound and he was already taking charge, protecting her and getting to her in ways that only he could.
“What about my puppy? I have to take her with me,” Natasha said.
“Aye. Maggie told me about Evita. You can bring her too.” Ian put his hand on the doorknob and turned it.
“Wait!” Natasha put her hand over his, but snatched it back the second her palm grazed the back of his hand, eliciting tingles that spread through her like electric currents. “You can’t come inside. I’m sorry if that sounds rude, but I’d rather you wait out here while I get my suitcase…and Evita,” she said in a rush. She hadn’t had a chance to put things in order, and she didn’t want Ian to see how badly they’d ransacked her apartment.
Surprisingly, he nodded in resignation. The fierce protectiveness in his eyes made her want to melt into his strong arms. She released her half-held breath and with a bittersweet sigh turned the doorknob. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Natasha wondered about Ian’s plans as she gathered her suitcases and Evita’s travel kennel. As soon as she opened the door and joined him in the hall, Ian took the kennel from her hands. He lifted the barking and agitated Evita out and held her gently as he spoke to her in a quiet tone. Openmouthed, Natasha watched as Evita calmed down almost instantly.
“Way to go, Ian. Evita is pretty feisty. You’re better than the dog whisperer,” she said, unable to hide her delight. Who could blame her puppy when she went limp in Ian’s hold and licked his hand? That’s how compliant Natasha felt at the moment, and Ian hadn’t even whispered the soothing Scottish words he’d said to her pup.
“Let’s go.” Ian placed Evita in the kennel and handed it to Natasha before lifting the other suitcases and heading to the elevator.
Following behind, Natasha smiled at the solid set of Ian’s broad shoulders and straight back as she tried to keep up with his pace. In spite of the dire circumstances for their impromptu trip, she was looking forward to having eight long hours with him in close quarters.
“As soon as we board, we’ll have a lobster dinner.” He casually threw it out there, but his words tempted her like no other man could, and she was certain he knew it.
“Oh,” she said, suddenly hungry. “I have a weakness for lobster.” And you, she silently added.
“I know.” His silver-green wolf eyes glittered enigmatically. The only sign that he might be feeling as off-kilter as she, was the blank look he steadfastly kept on his face to hide his emotions.
Before leaving, Natasha told the doorman she was going out of town. On the ride to the airport, she called Detective Carson and gave her an email address and Maggie’s phone number in Scotland, in addition to her cell phone.
She settled back in the plush seat of Ian’s hired sedan and glanced at his striking profile as he checked his emails on his smartphone. She couldn’t believe they were on their way to his homeland. A frisson of exhilaration shot through her as she thought of staying at Glenhaven Castle again. It was built like a fortress and remotely hidden in the lush, misty Highlands. To soothe her jumpy nerves, Natasha summoned images of salmon-filled crystalline Scottish lochs and blue-green grass, of grand mountains covered in heather and winding glens.
But it didn't work. Glenhaven held bittersweet memories, especially Ian's castle where he had first made love to her. Now he was being protective and cordial, but his body language told her he wanted distance. Ian could be tough and uncompromising—she knew that only too well. But long ago, he’d been tender and loving. She wanted that Ian back more than anything in the world, but she had been the one who had cut him off.
Gazing at him now, she knew he was studiously ignoring her. Natasha’s heart ached with longing as she turned her gaze away from him and looked down at her hands clenched together on her lap.
It was high time they healed the rift.
Chapter Four
Aboard the flight, Ian watched Natasha fuss over Evita, wrapping her in a leopard fur blanket and smothering her in kisses. “You’re such a smart doggie, and brave too. Who’s my cute little pom pom? You are, Evita,” Natasha cooed.
“Oh brother,” Ian groaned, rolling his eyes.
Natasha ignored Ian and continued her baby talk to Evita. “Now go to sleep and when you wake up, Mommy will have a surprise for you.” She placed her pup back in the kennel and Evita licked Natasha’s hands as she gazed at her through adoring chocolate brown eyes.
“Where’d you get that silly blanket for her?”
Natasha glanced up and grinned. “Hey, don’t judge. It makes her relax. Look how she fell right asleep. It was a gift from my friend Teddy, who I’ll have you know has fabulous taste and bought most of Evita’s wardrobe.”
He snorted in disbelief. “Your dog has a wardrobe?”
Her chin shot up. “Yes, and she looks smashing in everything.”
Long copper waves framed Natasha’s creamy complexion as her eyes sparkled radiantly. Keeping his expression bland, he studied the pearl studs in her dainty earlobes and the string of pearls around her slender neck. The jewels he’d given her adorned her in places he liked to kiss—to own—the warm pulse behind her ears, the soft, bare skin of her nape beneath her glossy hair. His gaze dropped to her right hand where she pointed to the kennel, her slender fingers pale and unadorned except for garnet nail polish. She’d once worn his engagement ring on that soft hand.
A young brunette flight attendant approached them with a friendly smile. “Hi, my name is Lori. What would you like to drink with your dinner today? I can offer you white or red wine, soft drinks, juice, coffee, tea or mineral water.”
“I’d like a glass of mineral water. Flat, no bubbles please,” Natasha said.
“Same for me. And please bring us a bottle of chardonnay,” Ian said.
The flight attendant nodded and left.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked.
“Are you kidding? This plane is gorgeous and so big. A lot of people could ride here,” Natasha said.
“Nine to be exact.”
She slid her hand across the cushion and patted it. “White leather and mahogany paneling. Nice. Is it yours?”
Ian nodded. “Yes. Some might find it excessive, but this plane was worth every cent.”
“What kind of an airplane is it?”
“It’s a Bombardier Challenger 300 jet. It’s efficient and cuts my traveling time in half.”
Natasha gave a throaty chuckle, the sound pleasing to his ears. “You don’t have to sell me on it. After this, it’ll be hard to fly commercial again.”
“How is your wound? Did you remember to take your antibiotic?”
“Yes, doc.”
“Did you feel any itching or see redness this morning?”
“Nope. It looked fine. But another part of me is sore,” she grumbled.
His mouth twitched. “Can’t help you there. I
’ll take a look at the cut later.”
She eyed him with a humorous lift of her brow. “This is hardly the place to examine my thigh. You’ll just have to take my word for it.”
Natasha had taken her leather jacket off earlier and was wearing a chocolate silk blouse with camel-colored cigarette pants and brown ankle booties. She bounced back lightly on the leather divan and the motion made her breasts jiggle. His palms grew damp as he remembered their soft fullness in his hands years ago. He turned his gaze away from temptation and cleared his throat.
Fluffing her hair, Natasha leaned back and closed her eyes. “Ahhh,” she sighed pleasurably, “the leather feels wonderful against my skin. I didn’t sleep very well last night.” She lowered her chin and watched him through her long lashes, her blue eyes as soft as velvet. Her mouth parted and she licked her plush lower lip as her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. Entranced, he watched the tiny pulse beat at the hollow of her throat.
Was she trying to drive him crazy? When they’d boarded the plane earlier, Ian had sat across from her, but after she’d settled Evita in her kennel, she’d joined him on the divan. Seated close beside him, Natasha smelled like fresh roses. He inhaled deeply, sorely tempted to wind his hand in her lustrous hair and pull her on top of him for slow, deep kisses.
“That looks comfortable.” Natasha indicated the two reclining seats down the aisle covered by white down comforters. She stretched and arched her back, and the first button of her blouse strained between her round breasts. He willed it to pop open when he saw the outline of her nipples through the thin silk. “I think I’ll stretch my legs and nap there later,” she said, gazing at him with a dreamy smile.
“Be my guest.” He couldn’t control the strain in his voice, taunted by an image of Natasha nestled beneath the comforter, her supple curves naked, sweet nipples wet and pink from his greedy kisses. Hot desire inflamed his groin, making him irritable and frustrated at the strong physical power she had over him. Clamping down his jaw, Ian opened his briefcase and forced sensual images of Tasha firmly out of his mind…and memory.
Heart Melter Page 4
