Come Fly With Me

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

  “Aye,” Bain said. “I remember that domestication. You decided to make chicken curry for us, then you got distracted halfway through and disappeared into the bedroom. Darach finished the cooking, and we all sat around eating it while we listened to the sound effects coming through the door.”

  “What the hell?” Brodie shouted. “I thought you’d left.”

  “And waste a perfectly good curry?” Bain asked.

  Katya stared at the ceiling. “Just when you thought life couldn’t get any more humiliating….”

  “If it’s any consolation,” Bain said, “you sounded good.”

  “Ew, no.” Katya shuddered.

  Brodie glared at Bain. “I should punch you again for hanging around to listen to us.”

  “You’d have to punch all of us,” Bain pointed out cheerfully. “Start with Darach if you can reach his face.”

  Darach was not amused. “We’ve gotten off track here. The point is, we need to plan your romance to ensure it comes across as real enough to fool Kitty and her lawyers.”

  Denise grinned at Darach. “This family is funny, but I like you. You’re focused.”

  “I can be focused,” Kade and Conall said at the same time.

  Bain just laughed.

  14

  “Okay, smart-arse,” Brodie said to Darach while Katya was still trying to get the image of his brothers listening to them having sex out of her head. “What do you have in mind for Operation Wedded Bliss?”

  “I’m glad you asked.” Darach got to his feet and pointed to the TV. “We’ve got a couple of events happening this week that will bring out the whole town.” He shone his laser pointer on the first. “The women of Knit or Die are staging a knit-in on the lochside road during rush hour tomorrow morning.”

  “Wait,” Denise interrupted. “Rush hour? As in an hour of rushing? In Invertary?”

  “He means the ten minutes in the morning when there’s more than half a dozen cars on the road,” Bain helpfully explained.

  “I love this town,” Denise said.

  “Anyway,” Darach continued. “They plan to protest every week until the council agrees to put in a zebra crossing for the old folk. One of them was injured by a bus full of tourists while walking from the pub to the loch.”

  “Who was hurt?” Katya asked. “Are they okay?”

  Brodie’s eyes danced as he answered her. “The bus knocked Archie McPherson’s warm chips out of his hands and ran over his flask of Glenfiddich. He suffered from shock. Nobody’s sure if it was from the near miss or the waste of good whisky.”

  Denise almost choked on her tea when she tried to laugh and swallow at the same time. Both Kade and Conall patted her on the back. “Wait. Tourists stop here?” she managed to say once she was able.

  “Only when they have to.” Darach clearly didn’t see anything funny in the situation. “But the same tour company bus comes through town, on its way to Fort William, at eight in the morning every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for the duration of the tourist season.”

  “Which is roughly two weeks in August,” Bain said with a wink.

  Denise was clearly delighted. “This is priceless. Why does your calendar say they’re only protesting on Fridays? What about the other days?”

  “The women go to Fort William to do aqua aerobics on Mondays and Wednesdays,” Darach said.

  At that point, they lost Denise, who was laughing too hard to be of any use, so she left the room to get control of herself.

  “Don’t mind her,” Katya said as Denise left. “She doesn’t get out much.”

  “Anyway.” Darach waved his laser pointer. “As I was saying, the whole town will be out to watch the protest. Morag’s shutting her bakery for the morning and setting up a pie stall, and I know Dougal will have a special at the pub to attract customers. It will be crowded, which means it’s a good place to flaunt your new romance.” He moved the pointer. “Then there’s a council meeting coming up. Everybody will be there. And all you two need to do is sit at the back and hold hands. That’ll be enough to cause the gossipmongers to talk.”

  “Will the great Ms. Baxter be there?” Katya wasn’t sure whether she wanted her to witness their act.

  “Aye.” Darach gave her a reassuring smile. “She’s got an item on the agenda, so she’ll be there to argue it.”

  “Great.” Katya slumped down into the lumpy sofa.

  “On top of that”—Darach pointed again—“there’s the football match on Saturday between Invertary and Aberfoyle. Brodie’s playing, so you need to be on the sideline, cheering him on.”

  Katya was surprised. “You’re back playing football?”

  “Have been for a while.”

  “I thought you didn’t have time for it.” He’d been a good soccer player when he was a kid but hadn’t had the passion that would turn it into a profession. Unlike Flynn Boyle, Invertary’s famous ex-footballer.

  “That was when I thought I was starting a family and working hard to save for a house. Turns out, when your wife leaves, you have plenty of time to pick up new hobbies. Or, in this case, old ones.”

  “Right, that’s it.” Katya sat forward in her seat. “Enough with the passive-aggressive crap. Yeah, I left you. Yeah, it upended your life. Yeah, you’re still upset about it. I get it. Everybody gets it. But you weren’t the only one hurting back then, and you sure as hell aren’t blameless. I don’t need you to keep making digs about the past. It doesn’t solve anything, and this situation’s difficult enough without having to deal with the grudge you’re lugging along with you every minute of every day.”

  There was a heavy pause before Brodie nodded. “You’re right. I apologize, and I’ll stop.”

  Katya’s breath left her at his words. He’d always done that to her, taken the air from her lungs when he was man enough to admit his mistakes, apologize, and move on. It had been one of the reasons she’d loved him. Once he was called on something and saw it needed changing, he went out of his way to make it happen. No fuss, no complaining, just admission and change.

  She blinked several times before sinking back into her seat. “Thanks.”

  “Good,” Darach said. “Now that we’ve got that sorted, we need to deal with the romance side of things.”

  “I thought that’s what we were doing,” Katya said.

  “That was the public side. You also need to be spotted out and about doing”—he made air quotes with his fingers—“private things.”

  “Dinner at the spa restaurant,” Conall suggested.

  “That’s what I mean.” Darach typed it into the Friday evening slot on the calendar. “Keep it coming.”

  There was silence.

  Denise came back into the room and sat beside Katya. “What are we doing?”

  “Apparently, we’re watching five grown men try to come up with ideas for a romantic date. So far, we’ve got one suggestion.”

  Brodie cocked an eyebrow at her. “Like you’re any better in the romance department.”

  He had a point.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Denise said. “How about a romantic evening stroll around the loch?”

  “Too many midges,” Bain said.

  Denise was undeterred. “A breakfast picnic?”

  “Brodie and Kat on a picnic?” Kade said, as though announcing aliens had landed in Edinburgh.

  “I’ll admit,” Katya said gently, not wanting to dampen Denise’s enthusiasm, “it is a little out of character.”

  “An intimate breakfast at the pub.” Denise’s eyes went wide. “After you’ve spent the night there. I mean, everyone knows you’re in here with half a rugby team, so they’d think it was romantic you’d booked a room just for the two of you.”

  “I like it.” Darach added it to the calendar for Saturday night.

  “Do we get a say?” Brodie asked.

  “No!” everyone but Katya answered.

  “Brodie could help Kat work on her plane after the football match on Saturday,” Bain said with a w
icked grin. “There’s no way he’d do that if they weren’t back together.”

  “I swear.” Katya warned Brodie. “If you damage it, I will drown you in the loch.”

  “I won’t damage it.” He sighed with disgust.

  “Oh,” Kade said, “they need to attend family dinners. No way anyone would believe they’re faking it if they sat down to eat with the two sets of parents. Hell, if Fraser even suspected it, he’d shoot Brodie.”

  “Great.” Brodie looked about as happy as Katya felt at the latest suggestion. “That sounds like hours of fun.”

  “Brodie was invited to the Savage house for Sunday lunch,” Denise piped up. The traitor.

  Darach was already typing it into the calendar. “Okay, I think that’s enough to be going on with. Now we need to practice kissing.”

  “I choose Denise!” Conall shouted.

  “Not you, you div,” Darach said. “Brodie and Kat.”

  “I knew that.” Conall blushed as he sat back on the sofa.

  “Um, excuse me.” Katya was insulted. “We know how to kiss; we don’t need any practice.”

  “What she said.” Brodie gestured to her.

  “Bain,” Darach said with a note of long-suffering in his voice, “tell them what you told me.”

  “What? That their kiss on the doorstep looked more like a grudge match than a passionate reunion? The only person it fooled was Old Man Shepherd, and he’s half blind. From where I stood, it looked like Brodie was about to strangle Kat, and she was planning to stab him in the gut. Listen to Megamind over there—you two need practice.”

  “That’s utter rubbish,” Katya told Bain. “We kiss fine.” She turned to Denise. “Tell him. You saw us, right? We were kissing like normal people.”

  “Sorry, boo.” Denise folded her arms. “I’m with Mr. Tactless on this. The kiss looked painful—as in, you were hurting each other.”

  “No, that happened later.” Brodie rubbed his nipple through his shirt.

  “You need to get used to touching and kissing in front of people, so it looks natural.” Darach was earnest. “If you kiss here, it will help.”

  “Wait a minute,” Brodie said as Katya’s jaw dropped. “You want us to stand in the middle of the room and kiss while you grade us?”

  “Well…aye.”

  “This meeting is over.” Katya stood.

  Denise grabbed her wrist. “Darach is right; you need the practice and the audience. Trust me on this, we aren’t joking or messing with you. If you want to keep the land—both of you—you need to do this.”

  If it were anyone else trying to convince her, especially a MacGregor, Katya wouldn’t have believed them. But this was her best friend, and although Denise had a wicked sense of humor, she would never do anything to hurt Katya.

  “Fine.” Katya sighed at Brodie. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “And they say romance is dead,” Bain muttered.

  Brodie had done a lot of strange things in his time, most of them because of Katya’s prompting, but he’d never once thought he’d take part in a kissing assessment.

  “If anyone laughs, I will hurt them,” he warned his brothers.

  “I won’t hurt them…now,” Kat added. “But they have to sleep, and I’m a patient woman.”

  Someone pushed the coffee table out of the way, and they met in the middle of the bright orange rug that someone must have bought in a sale.

  “This is weird,” Brodie complained.

  “I feel like a performing monkey,” Katya agreed.

  “Would it help if we turned down the lights?” Denise asked.

  “Then how would we see what they’re doing wrong?” Darach said.

  “Not helping, Dar,” Brodie told him. He took a deep breath. This was no big deal; he’d kissed Kat countless times—although he’d liked her a helluva lot more back then, which made it easier. Now he found he wasn’t quite sure how to place his hands or start the kiss so it looked natural.

  “You’re overthinking this,” Bain said. “Just kiss her.”

  “Stop rushing me,” Brodie snapped.

  “And what makes you think he should kiss me? Why can’t I kiss him?” Of course, Katya would take the women’s rights route in the situation.

  “I wish one of you would get on with it,” Bain said. “This is worse than watching that TV show with the two chicks that only talk and drink coffee. It’s great when you can’t sleep. Put it on, and ten minutes later, you’re out.”

  “You mean Gilmore Girls?” Conall said. “I caught you sleeping through that last week.”

  “What’d I say?” Bain shrugged. “Better than sleeping pills.”

  Conall nodded. “Chick TV is mind-numbing.”

  “If we kiss,” Katya said to Brodie, “will they all go away?”

  Brodie couldn’t help smiling at her. “Unfortunately, Bain and Darach live here.”

  As the tip of her tongue peeked out to wet her lips, Brodie realized she was as nervous as he felt. Maybe it was the scrutiny, or maybe it was kissing his ex-wife for the first time in ten years and making it look convincing. The kiss on the stoop didn’t count. That had been to torment her, which had backfired because it’d tormented him too.

  “Are we doing this?” she said quietly.

  For a second, he wasn’t sure if she meant the kiss or the whole pretending to be a couple thing. “Aye, we’re doing it.”

  Slowly, he closed the distance between them. A strange but familiar sensation flowed through him as he neared her. It was as though he’d pushed through an invisible barrier and was now tucked inside Katya’s personal magnetic field. Brodie remembered that feeling well.

  “Hey,” he whispered as his hands came up to cup her face, his thumb stroking along the line of her jaw.

  “Hey,” she whispered back, and her hands settled on his waist.

  That’s when he felt it. Her touch completed the electrical circuit, and now it fired between them. The sensation at once familiar and new. This was the Katya from his youth, only it wasn’t. She was different, someone to discover.

  Slowly, his eyes locked with Katya’s as he lowered his mouth to brush his lips against the fullness of hers. He felt, rather than heard, her quick intake of air. Fingers flexed on his waist.

  Their eyes drifted closed as he angled their heads to the position he needed. Soft, gently teasing kisses. He sipped at her. Tasting her, learning her. Her tongue tentatively touched his lower lip.

  Brodie sucked in a breath, taking her scent straight into his lungs. Dove soap. He smiled against her mouth before deepening their kiss, asking for permission with gentle teasing touches of his tongue against hers.

  Katya slid her hands up his back, pulling him closer. Brodie went willingly. The soft length of her body against his was the purest of temptations. He slid a hand around to the back of her head, threading his fingers through her hair, cradling her to him as their tongues explored, tasted, danced together.

  A tiny, soft moan passed over Katya’s lips and into his mouth. He swallowed it down. Fought the urge to moan in return. Instead, gently, almost reverently, he slowed the kiss. Brought them both back to earth softly.

  With one last gentle pressing of their lips together, he rested his forehead against hers for a second.

  A throat cleared. “Well, I don’t think we need to worry about them being convincing,” a voice said.

  Katya stiffened in his hold, and her hands dropped from his back. Brodie released her just as quickly, taking a step back as the room swam into focus. A glance at Katya told him she looked as discombobulated as he felt. The kiss was a reminder that chemistry had never been their problem.

  “Now the meeting is over,” Katya said with finality. “I need to get some boxes from my truck.”

  “I’ll help.” Denise stood quickly. When Conall made a move to stand too, she held up a hand. “We’ve got this.”

  “Aye,” Darach said. “Let’s call it a night. Somehow, I don’t think you’ll have a problem p
ulling off a fake marriage, so long as you don’t forget why you’re doing it and start fighting in public.”

  “A marriage of convenience.” Katya’s dark eyes met Brodie’s. “We can do that.”

  “Aye,” Brodie lied, because he didn’t think anything about this situation was convenient, especially not the rabid attraction that still buzzed between them.

  15

  Seven months after VE day, 1945

  West Germany

  * * *

  Days turned to weeks, which turned to months, in the West German camp for displaced people. The old army barracks was filled to capacity with victims of war instead of Nazi soldiers, and Natasha found herself sharing a room with eight other women—some of whom had survived the extermination camps.

  Rumors and stories about those camps spread like wildfire. Each more horrific than the last. Natasha spent her days helping care for the women who’d suffered the most. She fed them soup, rebandaged open sores, and held their hands when they whimpered as they dozed. The number of people lost in those first few months after being freed from captivity was soul-destroying.

  Nights at the camp were punctuated by the screams of those suffering night terrors or the sobs of people who’d lost everyone they’d loved. Daytime brought the interruption of visitors from other camps—people searching for missing loved ones—and regular meals. Food wasn’t plentiful, but it was enough to survive and still better than the situation she’d been in at Lina’s house, and Natasha was grateful for every single mouthful.

  When she wasn’t helping where she could, Natasha spent time learning English from a Polish woman who’d been keen to have something to occupy her time while waiting to be rehomed. And whenever he could, Ben Baxter would visit. Natasha found herself looking forward to those visits more and more. She wasn’t sure if it had to do with breaking the repetitive monotony of the camp or whether she clung to him because he was the only person who knew her secret. The only one she could speak to in Russian and share stories about her experiences.