In Her Secret Fantasy (3 page)

Glenn nodded and lifted his jacket from the hall stand. “All right,” he said, and led the way to the fire escape, snatching up a crate of beer and a whisky bottle on the way.

After his interesting encounter with Christine Lennox from Ardknocken House, Aidan spent the rest of the day with his family, giving Louise space for her traditional New Year clean and helping out where he could. It gave him a glimpse of what her life was like, and he was appalled.

His father’s memory had already been beginning to go when his mother had survived the horrific car crash five years ago. The doctors thought she’d had a minor stroke, which had caused the accident. Her legs had been mashed and a head injury had left her pretty deaf. The broken bones had healed, but never recovered their pre-accident strength. Although she remained bright as a button and seemed to have accepted her lot, she’d given up the housekeeping and the running of the B & B to Louise. She rarely walked farther than the garden now and needed help to get up and down stairs. She was old before her time.

“It’s like looking after kids,” Aidan said to Louise once, trying to cover the grief as she must have done every day when he’d never even imagined this growing tragedy in among the huger if less personal ones of his daily life.

Louise shrugged. “Well, they did it for us.”

In the evening, his parents dozed in front of the television, and Aidan stared unseeingly at the unrelentingly Scottish programmes that always heralded the new year. At least the comedy was quite good and let him and Louise laugh together for the first time in…years.

Shit.
That was worrying enough. Worse was his realization that he seemed to be regarding his reintegration into his family much like an undercover operation. He bit the inside of his mouth until it bled.

He didn’t expect a wild New Year. His parents woke up for the bells, and just after midnight, their neighbours Hugh and Myra came round. A little later, Morag appeared and looked flatteringly pleased to see him. He’d been at school with Morag, who’d left the village even before he did. But she’d come back sooner, and now she appeared to be one of Louise’s best friends.

Just as Hugh and Myra stood to go, the doorbell rang again, and Louise went to answer it.

“Happy New Year!” came a chorus of unknown voices which Louise greeted with delight.

“Come in, come in!” she cried, and a moment later, he caught his breath as Christine Lennox walked into the room with another young woman, a small boy and a large, watchful man whom Aidan recognized at once as the murderer Glenn Brody, head honcho at the big house.

He didn’t even need to gather himself into work mode. He was always working. That was going to change too.

“Happy New Year,” all the newcomers said, and the kid ran up to his parents to repeat it. The woman Aidan didn’t know followed the child, smiling.

With a curious sense of anticipation, Aidan turned his gaze on Christine Lennox. God knew it was no hardship. If she’d caught his attention this morning, tonight she was in danger of monopolizing it. Shrugging off her jacket to give it to Louise, she revealed a black lace evening dress, which may have been a bit Goth but on this girl looked stunning.

Aidan held out his hand. “Hello again. Happy New Year.”

Smiling with more confidence than she’d shown earlier—well, who felt confident with their sore bum planted on the ice and their legs in a tangle?—she took his hand and returned the greeting. A frisson of purely sexual electricity shot up his arm and down his spine.

He leaned forward to kiss her cheek in time-honoured New Year tradition, inhaled her soft, strangely exotic scent with an exciting buzz, but as if she didn’t notice his gesture, she stepped nimbly out of his reach and his hold in order to greet his parents.

Instead, Aidan found himself eye to eye with Glenn Brody, who offered his hand.

“Happy New Year,” Aidan said easily. “I’m Aidan, Louise’s brother.”

Brody shook hands—firm, but not challenging. “Glenn Brody.” He swung up a bottle of whisky and dropped it into Aidan’s hand. “Happy New Year.”

The man had knife scars on his face; his knuckles showed traces of a hundred fights. And yet Aidan picked up just a trace of social awkwardness, like someone who knows he isn’t welcome but is determined to go through the motions of politeness. Also, he was younger than Aidan had expected. Although he’d done ten years of a life sentence, he must have been little more than a kid when he went inside.

He too brushed past Aidan, saying, “Happy New Year, Mrs. Grieve. Mr. Grieve.” And for some reason, the gangster’s politeness to his frail parents surprised Aidan too.

Then Louise was back beside Aidan with the woman he didn’t recognize. “Aidan, this is Izzy who used to have the flat upstairs, and her son, Jack, who beats Mum and Dad at Snakes and Ladders.”

Ah. So this was the girl, Louise’s friend who was now Brody’s girlfriend. Interesting. He smiled at her. “Pleased to meet you at last.”

He shook hands solemnly with the kid who had an engaging grin and was wide eyed with excitement at what was probably his first grown-up New Year.

“And Chrissy,” Louise went on, “who runs things up at the big house.”

“Tries to,” Chrissy corrected, exchanging brief hugs with Morag, who was also, clearly, well acquainted with all three visitors from the big house. How had this happened in Ardknocken?

“We met already,” Aidan said, catching the girl’s eye while everyone but Izzy—presumably the other woman in the car earlier—looked from him to Chrissy in surprise.

“Really?” Louise asked.

“I had a disagreement with the ice,” Chrissy said. “Though fortunately the worst victim was only a bottle of vodka.”

“Lucky,” Izzy agreed. “Could have been the whisky. Glad to meet you too, Aidan. You staying long?”

“A while. Waiting for my new job to start.”

“Where’ll that be? Glasgow?”

Aidan smiled faintly. “Abroad, mainly.”

Louise got it at once. He could see the blood drain from her face.
Shit.
His changing jobs only gave her something else to worry about.

Chrissy’s gaze flickered to Louise, then back to him. He busied himself pouring drinks for everyone. Louise followed him, ostensibly to ferry the drinks, but in reality to interrogate him.

“Abroad where?” she demanded in a low, oddly tight voice. “You might as well tell me now and get it over with.”

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “They’re talking about Iraq to begin with. Phenomenal money for easy work.” He shoved a glass of whisky into her hand.

Her fingers closed around it mechanically. “
Easy
?”

He grinned. “I’m not going into battle against insurgents or anyone else. I’ll be babysitting fat businessmen with even fatter wallets. That’s Chrissy’s, and here’s Izzy’s.”

Clearly, she had more to say, but remembering her manners, she closed her mouth on it and passed on the glasses.

“So, no party up at the big house?” Aidan enquired when the chatter hit a lull.

“Oh, it’s swinging,” Chrissy assured him, sitting back on the sofa next to Izzy, with her whisky glass half-empty. “We left them to it for a while.”

Aidan let his lips quirk. “Not a hard-core party animal?”

As if she sensed the challenge he was barely even thinking, she glanced at him. “Are you?”

“God, no.”

Louise laughed. “He’s broken up too many of them. Say ‘Happy New Year’ to the guys when you go back up.”

“Sure,” Chrissy said, raising her glass to Louise.

Brody eased his hip onto the arm of the sofa, and the kid, who suddenly seemed to have lost his legs, despite holding what was probably the latest of several fizzy drinks that night, wobbled over from where he’d been exchanging a shouted conversation with Aidan’s mother and sagged against him. Rather to Aidan’s surprise, Brody put one arm around him and took the lemonade glass from his fingers.

“He needs his bed,” Louise observed with a sigh.

Jack straightened like a ramrod. “No I don’t.”

Brody smiled and released him, though he hung on to the lemonade.

“Just five minutes,” Izzy warned. She cast Louise an apologetic look. “Sorry. Short visit.”

“Glad you came,” Louise said warmly. “And brilliant to be Jack’s first first-foot!” Her warmth with these people, especially Izzy and her kid, wasn’t lost on Aidan. It was a complication that made him uneasy on several scores. It seemed this job wasn’t going to be quite as easy as he’d intended.

“Unless…” Izzy glanced from Louise to Brody and then Morag and Aidan. “You’d all like to come back up with us? The boys’d be thrilled to have more company.”

Aidan twisted his lips. “I doubt they’d be glad of mine. I’m an ex-cop.” Might as well have it in the open. And at least it gave him the satisfaction of attracting Brody’s startled gaze.

“Is that worse than a parole officer?” Chrissy asked, finishing her drink.

“Much,” Aidan said, refilling her glass.

Brody said, “We’re all ex-something. You’re as welcome in our house as we are in yours.”

Which was, Aidan thought sardonically, quite true. And Brody knew it.

“Are you two having a pissing contest?” Louise asked with apparent interest, looking from Aidan to Brody and back.

Brody let out a hiss that might have been laughter.

Chrissy said, “No, Glenn means it. Come up whenever you want.
If
you want.” She didn’t look at Aidan, just at Louise and Morag.

“We’ll see what we can do,” Louise said lightly.

It must have been like this for her for most of the last few years, afraid to go out for longer than half an hour in case their mother fell asleep and Dad did something dangerous. He caught Louise’s eye and jerked his head towards the door. After all, he wasn’t sure he wanted to work tonight. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be anywhere near the strangely aloof Chrissy, who still took his breath away.

In the black dress, her figure was even more alluring than he’d imagined, and the idea of running his hands all over those curves kept coming back to haunt him. He wondered how she kissed, how she fucked. If she’d only looked at him, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself flirting with her. Which, on this mission, might prove an awkward complication.

She didn’t seem to be aloof with anyone else. On the contrary, quick and unexpectedly witty, she drank and bantered with the others, not deliberately excluding him, just never addressing him. But he didn’t flatter himself he’d got to her in a sexual way. She’d found out he was a cop, and she was living with a bunch of ex-cons who were, presumably, up to no good, whether she knew about it or not. At best, she was protective of them. At worst…

At last, Brody stood and swung the boy onto his back. The kid smiled sleepily, wrapped his arms around the ex-con’s neck and closed his eyes, nestling into him. A smile flickered across Izzy’s face as she gazed at them and rose to her feet.

Among the flurry of good-byes and “Happy New Years” flung from passersby in the street, Aidan found himself on the doorstep beside Chrissy Lennox. Awareness sizzled between them—or at least sizzled through Aidan. Chrissy had barely looked at him since she’d arrived. And yet when he turned his head towards her now, she was looking all right, and with unexpected intensity. She didn’t even drop her gaze when he caught her staring.

She wasn’t really beautiful, strictly speaking. Her mouth was too large, her features just a bit too strong for soft femininity and she seemed to play that up with make-up that made her look just a little fierce—which caused him to wonder all over again what she was like in bed. His jeans stirred. God knew she had an alluring body that he longed to explore, to lose himself in. Those full breasts filling his eager hands, and her long, long legs wrapped around his waist while he buried himself in her hot, wet depths, over and over. Blind lust, delicious oblivion…

So
not why he was here.

He contented himself with a faint, tolerant smile. “What? Am I a handsome devil, or have I left my dinner on my face?”

She blinked. A frown flickered across her brow. “Your smile’s broken,” she said. Then her breath caught, she dragged her gaze free and bolted up the path after the others.

Chapter Three
“Your smile’s broken.”
What a stupid thing to say to anybody! The words had just tumbled out. After her brains. She’d been gawping at the poor man. She could blame that on a combination of too much whisky and his own male beauty. But telling him his smile was broken was just crass idiocy. She cringed all over again and walked faster.

It was four o’clock in the morning, and this part of the beach was deserted. Nearer the village, some young people had built a bonfire and were still partying around it. Up at the big house, the boys had just about drunk their fill, although the party had degenerated into mostly maudlin singing that was really quite painful on the ears. Chrissy had left them to it, but she couldn’t face bed yet. She couldn’t sleep with her stomach churning and her head spinning around the same words.

It didn’t even matter. She was nothing to him nor he to her, and that was not going to change. He was Louise’s brother, a cop who probably despised the Ardknocken House project and everyone involved, including her. He might even be aware of her own story, although she hoped not. He’d be gone soon. In the meantime, she had her job, and the new people to integrate, their new plans to bring to fruition. She had an appointment next week with Dan MacDonald to talk about the land, and the evening workshops to organize and advertise. Maybe she wouldn’t involve Aidan Grieve in the sailing lessons; there was no point if he wasn’t staying.

Not staying is good. I don’t need him
bothering
me just by being there.

Something ahead caught her eye, and she slowed. It was a clear, cold night, and by the starlight, she could make out faint movements on the rocks revealed by the ebbing tide. Her heart began to beat faster. Seals. The seals were back.

Slowly, she edged backward into the cliff and watched them. There were several, their round heads bobbing and their land-clumsy bodies flapping over sand and rocks. Most of them settled quickly and lay still, one or two finishing off the odd fish. On the big rock she’d noticed from her window lay two animals, a big male and a more petite female, their eyes turned towards her. She imagined they were the same ones who’d sat there last night.

Chrissy delved into her capacious pocket for her camera. But since she didn’t want to startle them with the flash, she doubted the pictures would come out very well.

Above her, on the cliff side, something shuffled, and she glanced up, startled. As she peered in the darkness, the figure of a man slid down the rocks and the grassy, unstable earth. Chrissy’s heart jumped into her mouth, for it was a dangerous way to go. You might not kill yourself falling from that height—unless you landed headfirst on the rocks at the foot—but you could certainly injure yourself pretty severely.

The man, however, moved like some sure-footed goat, as if he’d done exactly the same thing many times before.

At four in the morning? What the hell…?

She moved carefully along the sand to the next rock, keeping in to the side of the cliff. The man jumped down the last few feet, light and agile, and glanced to either side. If she stayed very still, he might miss her in the shadows…

He didn’t.

“There you are,” he observed.

Chrissy’s mouth fell open. “Aidan?” Perhaps she shouldn’t have admitted to recognizing his voice so easily, but it was very distinctive—deep and yet soft, holding only an echo of Ardknocken’s Highland lilt.

He walked towards her, stepping over a rock, and the moonlight briefly skimmed his blond head and one side of his strong, handsome face.

He said, “I thought it was you. What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

Chrissy nodded towards the seals. “Looking for them. What’s your excuse?”

“Coming home from Dan’s. Dan MacDonald? Lives over there.” He waved one hand in the vague direction of the MacDonald farm.

“You’re a friend of Dan’s?” she asked carefully. Of course he was. They both grew up here.

“We sailed to Orkney together when we were seventeen. Haven’t seen each other much since.”

She looked away, towards the seals, hoping he hadn’t influenced Dan against the project. She felt his gaze on her averted face.

“So, you’re a seal watcher?” he said at last.

She shook her head. “Not really. I just noticed them last night. Thought I’d come down for a closer look since I was up.”

“I used to play with them when I was a kid.”

She turned and stared at him in the darkness. “Play with them? What, like puppies?”

“Not exactly. You shouldn’t really get that close—they bite, for one thing, especially at breeding times. Come on.”

Unexpectedly, he took her hand as he brushed past her, drawing her on with him. It might have been to guide her around the large rock in her way, and over the top of the next patch. Either way, it seemed curiously natural, so she didn’t make a fuss.

The seals seemed to watch them as they walked along the beach. Chrissy caught the odd glitter of dark eyes. One of them, flat out on the sand, began to move with them. Aidan started to whistle, at first like you might to attract a dog’s attention, and then swerving into a tune, which she finally recognized as an adventurous version of Auld Lang Syne. She let out a breath of laughter, realizing with awe that several of the seals were following them, or at least moving parallel with them.

When Aidan stopped suddenly, so did they. “Happy New Year, seals,” he said. “Good party?”

It struck her then that Aidan was slightly drunk. It had relaxed him—or perhaps the childhood memories of “playing” with the seals had humanized him. Whatever, she was happy enough to walk on with him, even to whistle with him. The seals didn’t seem to mind her laughter, or their voices. She could almost imagine they were enjoying it.

After a little, Aidan swung her around and began to walk back the way they’d come—and the seals came too. She tried running, pulling Aidan with her, and the seals upped their pace as well. Spinning in a circle with him just made the seals pause and watch, but when she moved on, whistling again, the seals came too, more and more of them. All except the two on the rock, who continued to observe like the king and queen at some theatre production performed for their amusement.

Chrissy laughed with pure pleasure, liking the feel of Aidan’s gaze on her face. As if he found her interesting. Or perhaps just amusing. Like the seals did, still moving with them.

“Isn’t it the sea creatures who’re meant to sing
us
to our doom?” she said wryly.

“You’re thinking of mermaids. Selkies are different. If you ever feel the need of a handsome husband, just stick your face in the sea and cry seven tears, and one will obligingly step out of its seal skin for you.”

Remembering her fantasy of the previous night, she flushed. “I’ll bear it in mind.”

“I wouldn’t. He’ll have a selkie wife too, and he’ll leave you in the end. Selkie romances always end badly.”

She smiled faintly. “You almost sound as if you know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, there are female selkies too. At least in the X-rated dreams of an adolescent boy who’d fantasize about anything.”

She couldn’t really imagine him ever having to resort to mere fantasies. Even as an adolescent boy, he must have been stunning.

“They look so human, don’t they?” she mused. “At least their heads do. I suppose that’s why the legends sprang up.”

“Maybe. That and the fact that back in Viking days, visiting traders from the north probably wore seal skin clothes that they took off.” He swung her hand higher, reminding her that he still held it. It seemed stupid to draw it free now. She didn’t even want to. He didn’t wear gloves, but she did, so there was no flesh-to-flesh zing like when he’d touched her at Louise’s.

And yet now she’d noticed the contact, her physical awareness of him almost overwhelmed her. A fit, lithe man, he walked beside her with long, easy strides, sure-footed, as if aware of every feature on the beach, which must have changed however slightly with every tide since he’d last lived here. He observed, she thought, and reacted from instinct. His narrow hips swung along at her side, almost touching her.

What it would be like to be touched by him? To touch him?

Oh no, I’m so not ready for that. Besides, he’d run a mile. Right now he’s pissed and friendly and as full of New Year camaraderie as he gets. Tomorrow, it’ll be different. He probably won’t even remember.

I will, though…

“What are they even doing here?” she asked. She could blame her breathlessness on the cold, on the briskness of their walk. “I thought they didn’t breed until nearer the end of January?”

“They just come ashore for a rest, sometimes. It’s a hard life, constantly swimming and fishing and eating.”

She glanced at him. “Are we still talking about the seals?”

He looked up at the sky and smiled. “Life, probably.” His gaze dropped to her face. “What are you doing here, Chrissy, with a bunch of dangerous ex-cons?”

Chrissy smiled. “That’s how the village used to see them too.”

“Used to?”

She shrugged. “Some of them still do. The ones who’ve had nothing to do with us. They’re not dangerous.”

His eyebrows rose with obvious scepticism. Chrissy knew what he was going to say, so got in first: “I’m not saying they never were, though most of them were never violent criminals.”

“Brody was.”

“Yes,” she allowed, “though never as violent as his reputation. But people learn and change. He did.”

“You really believe that?”

“Do
you
really believe Izzy Ross would have taken her son there to live with him if he was dangerous? She’s gone to lengths you can’t even imagine to protect that boy. Now Glenn protects them both. If they need it, which they don’t.” She drew in a slightly flustered breath. “Look, I know you’re a cop. Or were. I know you’ve seen the worst of humanity. Trust me, so have I. But these guys have done their time. You can’t judge them on their past, just their present. And they’re working damn hard for themselves and each other.”

He regarded her, his expression thoughtful, curious, as if she were some rare species. “You’re very passionate,” he observed. “There aren’t many parole officers who leave the job early with their idealism intact.”

“I’m not an idealist,” she retorted. “I’m a realist. Is that why
you
left your job? Broken ideals?”

“Like my smile?” he said, and she flushed with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “Stupid thing to say. I was half-pissed. A smile can’t be broken.”

“Maybe not. But a man can be. Or a woman.”

Her stomach clenched. She searched his eyes, for the first time wishing there was more light. Did he know?

“Not I,” she said. “There’s a song I could sing to prove it, but I’ll spare you.”

“I’m strong. I can take it.”

She smiled, pulling her hand free to punch his arm. His lips curved upwards. His eyes glistened in the dark, almost as if they were smiling too. Imagination.

“I should take the shortcut here up to the house,” she said.

“I’ll just walk along to the bonfire, make sure the kids aren’t setting fire to themselves.” He seemed to hesitate, then added, “I never made it to your party.”

She shrugged. “Neither did Louise. No worries. I get you both have too many responsibilities. Plus older friends.”

“I’m glad I ran into you, though.”

He stood so close, she could feel the heat of his body. Something was certainly warming hers, though it seemed to begin
in
side.

“So am I,” she managed. “Thanks for showing me how to play with the seals.”

“Come out on the boat with me. Once it’s repaired. The seals come right up to it sometimes.”

“Ah. You guessed I wanted to talk to you about the boat.”

“Talk away.”

“It’ll keep. I’m just looking for someone with a boat to teach the lads to sail. Useful skill on the coast.”

His lips quirked. He had expressive lips. She bet they could kiss really, really well. Unexpectedly, he lifted one hand and brushed his knuckles against her cheek. She caught her breath.

“Sorry,” he said, without dropping his hand. “Cold fingers.”

“No colder than my face,” she said nervously. “Happy New Year, Aidan.”

He bent his head, and her stomach dived. His lips brushed her cheek. “Happy New Year, Chrissy.”

Weird happiness seemed to explode inside her. She wanted to close her eyes. Instead, she pulled away and ran to the winding path that led up to the Ardknocken estate. When she glanced back, he still stood where she’d left him. Smiling, she raised one hand in a wave. His own came up in acknowledgement, and then he began to walk on towards the village.

Chrissy climbed on up the path. For some reason, the smile still split her face. She’d made friends with Aidan Grieve, Louise’s brother. He liked her. And that felt…good.

“Well, she’s not fat,” Dyrfinna allowed. “And she
is
beautiful in a bizarre kind of a way. On the other hand, she seems more interested in
him
than in you.”

Runi flopped into the water. “Well I didn’t notice
him
paying too much attention to you. They both seem likely to cut us out and opt for each other.”

Dyrfinna laughed. Even after an eternity together—mostly—her laughter did something to him. He entered the water and swam close to her.

“Husband,” she said, rubbing her head against his. “Humans are only dull when we let them be.”

Showered and dressed just after midday, Aidan followed his nose downstairs to the living room, where his mother was setting the table for lunch and his father was unsetting it again. He wondered how long they’d gone round the table like this, with his mother placing the cutlery and his father picking it up again and laying it back on the pile in the middle.

“Morning, ancestors,” Aidan said cheerfully. “Aunt Aggie coming for lunch?”

His mother beamed. “Aggie’s coming over for lunch. Your dad will like that.”

“Me too,” Aidan said and went into the kitchen to find Louise peeling potatoes. “Pie smells good,” he volunteered. “Want any labouring done?”