Scotland for Christmas

by Cathryn Parry

  Maybe she really could have helped him. Now she was so angry and hurt, she didn’t see how that was possible. That he’d messed with everything she had worked so hard to achieve during her months in New York only made the pain worse.

  The buzzer in her room went off. What if it’s Jacob? She had left her handbag on his mother’s kitchen counter, and maybe he was here to return it. Isabel froze.

  She went into their communal kitchen, where Rajesh was cooking something spicy over a frying pan on the stove.

  Rajesh stopped stirring and peered at her. “Braveheart? Are you all right?”

  She didn’t feel so brave now. “I think Jacob might be downstairs, and I don’t want to see him. I’m wondering...would you go down and check the lobby? If it is him, I’m fairly certain he has my handbag.”

  Rajesh handed her the stirring spoon. “Take over for me. I’ll be right back.”

  Isabel sautéed the bubbling onion mixture in the pan. Her eyes stung even more, but it was a welcome trade. She didn’t see how she could get past Jacob’s betrayal.

  Rajesh returned quickly, holding Isabel’s handbag. She was relieved to see it again. Luckily, her keys had been inside her coat pocket, but her wallet and all her ID were inside her purse. If she’d lost it somehow, it would have been a hassle for her to replace everything, especially now. During the next two weeks she had final exams to prepare for, as well as writing her end-of-term papers. This was a difficult period for her even without the day’s revelations.

  “He looks terrible,” Rajesh said.

  She swallowed back a lump in her throat. This was so hard. “Thank you for getting this for me,” she whispered. She swapped Rajesh’s spoon for her handbag. “And thank you for not asking questions.”

  “Do you want to know what he said to me?” Rajesh asked.

  She shook her head. “Good night, Rajesh. I’m going to sleep.”

  “Have you eaten?” Rajesh asked, peering at her. “I’ll bring you some of my food. I have fresh rotis with ghee, and the vegetable curry I’m preparing.”

  “That’s kind of you, but no, thanks. I’m not hungry right now.”

  Once in her room, she locked the door and then, still dressed, flopped onto her bed. She curled around her handbag on top of the coverlet but lay awake, unable to sleep.

  A sob escaped her. She hadn’t wanted to fail. But she wasn’t back in Scotland yet. There was still time to fix her mistake.

  She sat up, thinking. What should she do? What would her father have advised? How would Malcolm handle this?

  How should she handle this?

  Of course, she needed to talk with her uncle, especially since he already knew what Jacob had done. Nine-thirty in the morning, her uncle’s time, would be the best hour to reach him. She turned and set her alarm clock for 4:30 a.m.

  One alarm wouldn’t be enough. Jacob had also been helping her with waking up early. Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away. Instead, she set the alarm on her mobile phone and turned it to its highest volume, then slept with it under her pillow.

  When the shrieking buzzer roused her, she felt groggy and dazed. It was dark outside. Isabel had only been sleeping for about an hour, but she sat at her desk, a notebook and a pen before her. She’d jotted down some talking points and a delivery strategy in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep.

  Uncle John’s assistant answered his phone, measured and calm. “Yes? Isabel?”

  “Hello, Murphy. May I speak with my uncle, please? It’s important.”

  She heard a low murmur as Murphy relayed her message. She’d chosen this time because it was just after her uncle arrived at their Edinburgh offices, where he would confer with Murphy over his morning schedule. She hadn’t been sure he wasn’t traveling—he frequently did, but this time, she was lucky.

  “Yes, Isabel?” It was Uncle John, and from his tone, he wasn’t in a mood to chat.

  She sat straight in her chair and smiled, as if he could see her. It also helped her remain calm.

  “Good morning, Uncle,” she said briskly. “I’m calling because I’ve discovered that Jacob Ross is not who he pretended to be at Malcolm’s wedding. In actuality, he’s the son of...” Her voice faltered, but she quickly recovered. “The son of the policeman who died when Rhiannon and Malcolm were kidnapped. He’s...interested in information about it for his Secret Service file. He...targeted us because he thinks we can provide him with what he needs. Given that, I think it’s best we not invite him to your home for Christmas. I would still like to see you, however.”

  She had spoken in a rush, and she took a measured breath after this last part. So much of her heart and soul had gone into preparing herself to helm the company, to be the guardian of her father’s legacy. Was it still possible to convince her uncle that she was the most worthy successor?

  Of course, her uncle already knew the information that she’d just relayed to him. But this was a deliberate strategy on her part. She wanted him to know, in the best way possible for her, that she knew, too.

  Her hands were shaking. She squeezed her eyes closed and hoped for a positive outcome. May he please forgive me.

  “What do you think? Do you believe that Jacob is a threat to the company?” Uncle John asked quietly.

  She closed her fingers over the phone. This wasn’t the reaction she’d expected from him. He’d never asked her what she thought. Their relationship, slim as it was, was always about her pleasing him. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Does Jacob pose a risk to Sage Family Products in any way? That’s the most important question for us, as stewards of the family, to ask.”

  Being stewards of the family, to her businessman uncle, meant keeping a strong financial position above all.

  “I don’t see how Jacob could cost us money, if that’s what you mean.”

  Her uncle’s sigh was audible, even over their phone connection.

  “Isabel,” he said in his patient voice, “a determined foe could threaten us in many ways. Lawsuits, for example. Negative media attention, which would lead to brand damage and thus, a decrease in sales. Jacob is in a particular position to hurt us this way. He has a sympathetic story—his father was killed while rescuing Rhiannon and Malcolm. The press would lap it up. I don’t like that he’s sympathetic, and I worry that he’s suddenly so motivated to meet our family. Does this worry you, as well?”

  “I...” Her brain was racing. Uncle John always operated on a different level than she did. She just didn’t think this way.

  In her gut, she’d never felt that Jacob wanted to hurt them. Not purposely. But in not considering it—did this mean she wasn’t cut out to be a leader? Were her instincts wrong?

  “I could assess the risk for you,” she said instead, resorting to action, her uncle’s forte. “I have some time left in New York. I can see him—” as painful as that was to her “—and evaluate the danger to us. I could perform a risk assessment.” A term she’d learned about in her business strategy class. “Will that help?”

  There was a short silence. “Yes, it would, very much,” he said gently. “You’re learning. I’m quite pleased.”

  She closed her eyes and felt relief. Finally, he thought her valuable. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Very well,” he replied brusquely. “For your remaining days in New York, until you come home, you’ll monitor the situation for us. Watch him carefully. Stay in contact with him and perform an in-depth risk assessment.” Her uncle paused. “Do you feel capable of this, Isabel?”

  “Of course.” She would be CEO—she had to be capable.

  “Excellent. And, Isabel?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t rescind the invitation for Christmas dinner just yet, especially not for yourself. You and I will see how this goes and we’ll take stock later.
” He disconnected.

  Her heart pounding, she stared at the screen of her phone, pleased that she’d made progress with her uncle.

  But what had she just agreed to do for him?

  She’d assumed she would never see Jacob again. But now...

  She had to. And though a part of her wanted to see him—was leaping with joy at the thought of seeing him again—she honestly didn’t know what she was going to do.

  * * *

  ON MONDAY MORNING, still feeling lousy, Jacob was sitting in the passenger side of the SUV as Eddie drove. They were on their way home from court. The plan had been to meet with the federal prosecutor to transfer the credit-card-fraud case they’d built, but the plans had fallen through. Eddie was still fuming about it.

  “So he’s running late and wants to reschedule. Typical. How am I supposed to leave in two weeks? You watch—I’ll be gone before this guy gets his act together, and then he’ll want me back.”

  “Is it two weeks?” Jacob muttered. That was about when Isabel would be leaving New York, too.

  Eddie glanced at him. “You want to stop for lunch? You don’t look so good.”

  Jacob shook his head. He did feel like garbage, though. He hadn’t been sleeping well at all. He just kept thinking about Isabel. He’d fallen for her, hard, and that made no sense to him.

  He should be focusing on setting up another meeting with Diane. That envelope that Emily had passed him from Daniel had contained a copy of Jacob’s original birth certificate. Jacob hadn’t bothered to look at it closely—he just wanted to send it quickly to Diane to prove that he was serious and working hard toward pulling this thing together.

  He wanted to spend Christmas in Scotland with Isabel. He wanted to regain the feeling that he’d had with her. She’d wanted to be with him, too, until he’d messed up with her by not being honest with her until it was too late.

  “Why don’t we drive north about forty blocks instead,” Jacob said to Eddie.

  Eddie raised a brow. “Headed for a certain university, are we?”

  Yeah, that was his point. It was late morning and the usual time when Isabel headed to campus on a Monday. “Don’t judge me.”

  Eddie sighed. But he swung the car around.

  Broadway was busy. They were already past Times Square. Eddie eased the vehicle uptown and fell into an easy groove where by some miracle they timed all the lights perfectly. Within minutes they’d made it nearly to Isabel’s campus without stopping once, as close to divine intervention as Jacob was likely to see.

  “Jeez, look at that,” Eddie noted. “There’re Christmas trees on the street corners already. It’s not even the season.”

  “It’s after Black Friday.” That was the cue for the full-out commercial season to begin.

  “Right. So where are you spending Christmas this year?” Eddie asked.

  “Don’t know,” Jacob muttered. That was what he needed to fix. Since Isabel had sent Rajesh downstairs to get her purse from him, Jacob had been trying to figure out how to apologize to her. He still hadn’t come up with an answer. He only knew that time was slipping away from him.

  He didn’t regret breaking his silence and telling her the truth. He would do it again in a heartbeat. What he regretted was not knowing how to repair their relationship. He understood why she felt angry and hurt. He wished she could understand his side of it, too. The whole thing was a mess.

  “Slow down,” Jacob said. They’d just sailed past a familiar blue diner with a red neon sign. “Her building is on this block.”

  “What’s the plan?” Eddie asked.

  Specifically? Jacob had no idea. They slowly cruised past the residence hall. Jacob counted floors until he found her window, and then studied it for movement. Great; now he was a stalker.

  “I’m turning around,” Eddie muttered.

  “We’re here already, just keep driving. Go past her campus. It’s two blocks north.”

  Eddie gave him a put-upon look, but he did as Jacob asked.

  “Look. There she is.” Another stroke of divine intervention—someone was really looking out for him today. Isabel was walking on the sidewalk ahead, and wearing what Jacob liked to think of as her Scottish raincoat. It was hard-core—heavy waxed cotton with a hood and lined with flannel, as if the wearer was headed for a Baltic hurricane.

  Isabel, though, made the storm wear look stylish and appealing. She’d belted it tight around her waist and added a beret, plus her high-heeled boots, the ones that gave her the look of long legs that went on forever.

  Eddie said nothing, simply pulled the SUV to the curb ahead of Isabel and put it in Park.

  “Give me a minute,” Jacob said.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Eddie sighed. “Then you’ve got two seconds to do it. Move, man. I’m sick of watching you mope around.”

  Jacob hopped out of the SUV and was on the sidewalk in less than two seconds. He stuffed his hands in his overcoat pockets and waited for Isabel to see him.

  He knew the exact moment when she did. He felt it like electricity.

  Her gait slowed and her gaze darted up and down the length of him. Her jaw slackened. She stopped entirely. She had a laptop case slung over her shoulder; she adjusted it and gripped it tighter.

  He jogged over to her, his heart feeling as if it was in his throat.

  “Jacob?” Isabel’s voice was that lightly accented song that he’d grown to count on so much.

  He couldn’t think of anything to say. Words couldn’t express what he felt. He stood there, gazing at her, drinking her in, while she stepped closer.

  Her eyes were locked on to his. Big, blue, beautiful eyes. Eyes that he wanted to look into all day.

  “I...was going to call you,” she said.

  “Really?” That was a shock, but a good shock.

  “Jacob, you look terrible.”

  “I... Yeah.”

  She gazed at him. “You shaved funny.” She reached up and lightly touched his cheek. “You missed a spot here.”

  She seemed so sweet and awkward and tentative. Without thinking, he took her wrist. He rubbed the sliver of her warm, smooth skin that was exposed between her coat sleeve and her winter gloves.

  Somehow, the two of them melted together. His hands bracketed her shoulders, then her face, flushed and warm and happy to see him. Her body moved closer to him, inside the private circle they made in the corner of a bus shelter.

  He kissed her. Oh, man, did he kiss her. Like a dying man given a reprieve.

  “I did not intend for that to happen,” she whispered, breathless, pulling away from him for just a moment.

  “I know you’re mad at me, with good reason, and I’m sorry.” He captured her mouth again. Opened her lips with his own. She was hot and breathless and she tasted like mint gum. That struck him more than anything she could ever have said or done—that she was chewing mint gum like he did.

  He groaned and stroked her tongue with his. Her knees started to buckle.

  “I...thought you might be angry with me.” She gasped.

  “Never,” he growled.

  “But my reaction—”

  He kissed her one more time, then lifted her chin so she was gazing into his eyes. Cupped the back of her head so she could see the intensity of his feelings, of what he had felt, all last night, lying awake and thinking of her, unable to sleep. “You had every right to walk away. I kept something from you that I shouldn’t have, for too long.”

  He sighed and started again, saying what he really meant to say, the heart of it. “That part of us is over. Okay? We’re not going to do that again to each other.”

  * * *

  ISABEL FELT DRUGGED. She was so thoroughly kissed that all she could think o
f was how she wanted more of Jacob.

  She had a vague sense that her life was confused, that her plans had gone topsy-turvy and that the encounter with him hadn’t played out the way she’d envisioned.

  It was so unlike her to be losing control, to be doing something insane like kissing a man on the sidewalk on Broadway. She was supposed to be the inquisitor now—the one with the secret. Cautious and careful had to be her MO. She really had planned to phone Jacob during her dinner break, but he’d surprised her in that way he always had, of cleverly shaking her up. He was the bodyguard who walked beside her, the watcher with the intense eyes and the slow-burning fire always banked inside him, waiting to blaze. Jacob never gave up on her.

  His delight in her was heady. The attention was exactly what she needed and wanted.

  Maybe it was the feeling that Christmas was near. On the corner, she could smell the balsam from a tiny stand where a vendor was hawking his trees. At home there would be roasting chestnuts sold on the pavement. A warm spot to stand around on a cold December afternoon.

  Without thinking or analyzing, she took what she wanted, pressing herself against Jacob’s warm chest. He opened his coat around her, closing her inside with him. Gazing down at her, he reverently stroked her hair.

  “Let’s go somewhere,” he said. “Now.”

  “But...? Isn’t that crazy...?”

  “Isabel, let’s play hooky,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

  She wasn’t sure exactly what that word meant, but she had an idea she would like it very much indeed.

  She breathed in deeply, and biting her lip, she nodded quickly, before she lost her nerve. He glanced behind him, and there was the beep of a car horn. Eddie, at the wheel of their black SUV. Of course.

  “Can we walk to your place?” Jacob asked.

  “I...” She licked her lips. She felt daring. Going to lunch and joining her study group to prepare for next week’s business law exam was suddenly out of the question. Jacob was lunch, and her study group could wait.

  “Let’s go to your flat.” If she was to continue to assess him, it was the perfect place.

  He didn’t hesitate. “Your wish is my command.”