Lion of Caledonia: International Billionaires VII: The Scots (18 page)

She had to believe that.

Because it was the only thing she had to hold on to.

* * *

“
T
he pole should be here
and the fire should be there.” Robbie’s voice piped into the conversation between Cam and Jen.

She looked down to meet an excited, childish gaze. Last night’s midnight snack hadn’t dimmed the energy of either the father or the son. By the time the boy had fallen asleep again and had been tucked into his own bed, her lover had been ready for another
splendid adventure
under her covers. Neither of them had slept until the first muted rays of sunshine filtered across the bed. She had wanted to laze and snooze the entire morning away, but her lover had poked and prodded her into a shared shower. By the time they’d thrown on some clothes, Robbie had been at her door, ready for action.

“I’m thinking we don’t want the fire to be too near the trees.” Cam inspected the budding blossoms on the chestnuts.

“There’s no way the fire can reach that high.” She gazed at the boughs hanging above her head.

“Ye don’t think so, eh?” He smoothed her hair off her forehead, the touch so light and gentle, it took her breath. “Well, ye haven’t seen a true Steward bonfire.”

“A Steward bonfire.” His son yipped in delight and jigged around the tree trunk. “I can’t wait.”

“A Steward bonfire has to be the best. Which means the biggest.”

“This could get risky.” She folded her arms in front of her in immediate distress, although his bravado pulled a reluctant smile from her. “There’ll be children here besides Robbie.”

The first thing Cam had done this morning was drive to the small market town nearest the estate. He’d come back an hour later, beaming with the news the entire town and surrounding families would be attending the bonfire and the May Day dance on the day after.

His son had barely contained his glee.

She had called the caterer and ordered five times what she’d initially planned.

“Life is risky.” His hand brushed her shoulder before sliding down her arm to pull her hand into his. “That’s what makes it exciting.”

“How big is the bonfire going to be, Da?” Robbie broke in.

“Big. Very big. I’m thinking we’ll have it by the loch.” He prowled off, past the lane of chestnuts, dragging her behind. His son clattered after them, wearing his red pirate hat and blue-green tartan kilt.

The gardens were clean and well kept now, a pleasure to Jen’s eyes. The crew had left for the day, only needing to finish some of the hedges by the house tomorrow. They’d leave behind well-planted flower beds, and clipped shrubs and trees.

Cam walked past all that without giving it a glance, down to the grassy knoll that rolled into the water. “I’m thinking here.”

“There are no trees here and that’s good,” she admitted.

“And if the fire gets out-of-control,” Robbie said with obvious relish, “we can always douse it with the loch.”

“Good point, lad.” He ruffled his son’s hair while keeping a tight grip on her hand. “I’ll draw a circle right here.”

Taking a long knife out of his boot, a modern replica of the one he’d caught her with in the armory, he knelt. He cut into the grass, drawing a huge circle.

“You can’t be serious.”

Glancing at her, he smirked. “I try never to be so stodgy as that. But in this case, I’m bound and determined our bonfire is going to fill this hole.”

“Yippee!” The boy jumped back and forth, over the line his father had cut. “We’re going to have the biggest bonfire in Scotland.”

“You’ll have to get a permit for something this big, won’t you?”

“No, little worrywart, I won’t.” Straightening, he looked at the loch. “I own all this land and I can do what I want on it.”

The sun shone today, gilding his dusky hair with amber highlights. A light wind whipped the hair around his face and lifted the flap of his blue mac. For a moment, she could imagine him as a Highland marauder, pacing across his recently conquered land. Then he twisted to face her, giving her a grin and a wink. In a flash, he became her real-time lover again, the man she’d fallen in love with, and the man she’d steal from and run from in a few days.

The realization made her heart stutter and her smile fell from her face.

“Jenny?” His touch came once more, a tender string of fingers across her cheek and neck. “What’s bothering ye?”

“Nothing, really.” Everything, really. Yet, she’d placed herself in this position, knowing what would come, knowing what was impossible. She had no one but herself to blame. Certainly not this man standing strong and solid before her. “Just running through the things I need to organize before your guests start arriving in a couple of days.”

“Don’t fret yourself about all that.” He stepped to her side and slipped his arm around her waist. The heat of his body surrounded her, making her wish he’d always stand by her side. “The caterers will handle the food preparation and Mrs. Rivers will do the rest. The only thing you’ll have to do is enjoy the party.” He leaned in, his forehead touching hers, his gaze hazy with lust. “And enjoy me.”

“Da.” His son bounced to their side. “There’s no time for kissing Jen. We need to finish digging out this grass from the circle.”

“Naw.” He gave her another smile before turning to his son. “We’ll have the landscape crew dig this ditch and line it with rocks from the loch.” Cam nudged his foot under the fringe of the lawn he’d cut through. “I went ahead and called the lad who provides our firewood and he’ll be coming here with a load tomorrow.”

“Where are we going to have the pole, Da?” Robbie romped in the circle, his face alight with happiness. “Maybe we can have it right near the fire?”

“I’m thinking farther out.” His father strode across the grass to stand at the edge of the garden. “What do ye think, Jenny? Can we have the pole put in here and have the tables of food over there by the boathouse?”

“Yes.” She could see it as clearly as if it were real. A shiver of forgotten memories ran through her. She’d always been able to see a garden as it should be, but she hadn’t pictured a party and how it should be organized since she’d left her grandfather’s house in disgrace. “I can see it working very well.”

“Good.” He gave her a smile, and, for a moment, she glimpsed that wistful, wanting emotion in his eyes. “We have everything set then.”

“Mr. Steward!” The call came from the loch as a tugboat chugged into view, dragging a battered boat behind it. The main mast lay drunkenly on the top of the hatch, its tattered sails drooping into the water.

“Our sailboat!” Robbie lunged to the brink of the loch, his body trembling with delight. “Ye found it, Da. Ye found my collections, too.”

“This morning, I hired people to find it, if they could.” Cam grabbed his son before the boy flipped into the water. Kneeling, he threw his arm on the scrawny shoulders. “And it’s my boat, Rob. You’ll remember that the next time ye get a bee in your bonnet.”

“Is this where you’re going to start yelling at me?” His son peered at him with wary eyes.

His father sighed, and then brushed the hair from the boy’s forehead with the same gentle touch he’d used on her moments ago. “Naw. I think you’re smart enough to figure out what ye did last night was wrong.”

“I was angry.”

Cam glanced from the loch and the limping sailboat back at his son. “So was I. Still am, a bit, if I think about it.”

“Then don’t think about it.”

The familiar grin flashed across his father’s mouth and she took in a deep breath. They’d made it. Both of them. In their own male way, they’d bridged the gap that had opened between them and had threatened to tear them apart. She could tell by the easing in Robbie’s spine and the acceptance in Cam’s eyes.

“We’ll let this go, all right?” He straightened, his hand still on his son’s shoulders. “Let’s go check your collections and see how they fared.”

“I’m mostly worried about the shells.” The boy skipped behind his father’s long legs. “I’m sure the marbles are fine.”

Jen stood at the tip of the circle, watching as the two of them walked away. She could see them, as the years went by. Robbie growing from his father’s shadow into a strong, good man. The father nudging his son on the right path, on a better path than his own had been. The damage had been done in his childhood, yet she felt sure he would find a way to heal himself before he hurt his son.

She wanted to believe that with every bone and fiber in her body and soul. Because she wouldn’t be here to help him find that way. He’d have to do it on his own.

“Jenny?” Cam stopped and glanced back. “What are ye doing, lass? Standing there worrying about something?”

“Perhaps.” She clasped her hands in front of her mouth, pushing away sudden tears.

Robbie turned to her, his face scrunched. “What’s there to worry about, Jen? The house is clean now, and we’re ready for the party.”

“Yes, we are, aren’t we?” The one word caught as she said it.

We.

“Are ye breathing okay?” Cam paced to her side, his tawny brows drawn down. His hand lifted to clutch both of hers.

“I’m fine.” She straightened her spine and forced a smile onto her lips and into her eyes. Their story together was going to come to a close soon. That didn’t mean, however, she couldn’t cherish every single second she had left. “Let’s go see your boat.”

“Come on, then.” He smiled, a bright, happy grin. “What ye need, lass, is an adventure. To take your mind off your troubles.”

“You think so?” Jen let herself be tugged toward the boat house.

“I know so.” Cam winked, sending her heart into a flutter. “And I’m just the man to take ye on one.”

“
C
ameron Steward
.” Amanda Reed waltzed in his front door, a giant smile on her face. “A sight for this girl’s sore eyes.”

“Cam.” Tre strode behind her, luggage in both hands, his black hair swept back in his familiar short cut and his blue gaze as sharp as ever. “Thanks for having us here a night earlier than the rest. It’ll be good to catch up.”

Amanda flipped her long, blonde curls over her shoulder, her smile turning into a suggestive smirk. “Good to catch something or someone, I’m sure.”

Cam laughed as he grabbed one of the suitcases. He’d known Amanda long enough to understand the flirting was merely part of the package.

Tre used his free hand to pull him into a hard hug. “Hey, ye big dobber. It’s good to see ye.”

Closing his eyes, he hugged back, bittersweet emotion surging through his heart. “Good to see ye, too.”

“Before you two start sobbing on each other’s shoulders, I want a tour. And a bath.”

“Tour and bath coming right up.” He slapped his friend’s broad shoulder before looking around for Mrs. Rivers.

“She’s in the kitchen, fixing dinner.” Jenny’s quiet voice came from the library doorway, grasping his thoughts as she so easily did now. She’d spent the last two days organizing his library, which made it understandable she’d come from there.

“Organizing what?” he’d demanded.

“Your stuff.” Her expression had been blank and that had worried him. She hadn’t worn that look for weeks. “I want your papers to be organized before I…”

Jenny had trailed off, then, her jaw tightened. “Before the party,” she’d finally finished.

He’d wanted to question, to investigate more, but Rob had bounced into the room, and by the time Cam had her alone again, the blank expression was gone.

He’d dropped it. As he’d dropped a lot of other things in these past few days.

His conscience being the first on the list.

“Ye must be Jen.” Tre strode to her side, his charm on full blast.

Something ugly rumbled deep in Cam’s heart.

“Yes.” Her voice stayed calm in the face of the charm assault, yet a smile of welcome did edge onto her mouth. “You must be Tre.”

“That would be me.” His friend’s hand grasped hers and didn’t let go. “You’re much better than I imagined.”

“Better?” Her blonde brows lifted.

Tre grinned. “Prettier, in a classic sort of way. Very nice.”

The ugly thing inside grumbled.

“And I’m Amanda Reed.” Never one to be ignored, his female colleague strode forward and seized Jenny’s hand from Tre.

Good
, the ugly growled,
good
.

“Hello.” His mouse looked taken aback for a moment and he understood why.

Amanda Reed dazzled even in her windblown state. Standing six foot, she didn’t try to hide herself. Instead, she highlighted. Everything. Unless she was on an assignment, she wore her customary six-inch high heels. She had on a shiny black pair now. Amanda also never saw a leather coat or skirt she didn’t approve of, and she’d chosen a bright red set today, matched with a brilliant, sparkly green shirt.

She blazed through the room like a six-foot comet.

“Your name’s Jen, huh?” She shook the smaller hand in hers, her red nail polish flashing in the light. “It’s great to meet you.”

The mouse’s delicate brows now curled in apparent incredulity, but much to his relief, she didn’t run or rush to escape. Rather she seemed to take the other woman in stride. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

And she smiled. One of the wonderful, genuine smiles he hadn’t gotten enough of.

Not yet.

Maybe not forever.

A clutch of panic, a twist he’d been experiencing over and over in these last few days, tightened right in the center of his gut.

“Are you Cam’s girlfriend?” His female colleague asked in her irrepressible way.

Shock filled Jenny’s face and a blush started to crawl up her neck.

“Now there’s a question.” Laughing, Tre swung Amanda into his arms. “However, we’re not investigating anyone here, or doing a story.”

“There’s always a story though, right, Cam?” She shot him a grin. “Everywhere you go, there’s a crime being committed or someone telling lies or something bad about to happen. Someone needs to find out and let everyone know.”

He was about to laughingly agree when he caught Jenny’s new expression.

Horror. And fear.

Why? What was wrong?

“Jenny—”

“I’ll go check on Mrs. Rivers while you help them to their rooms, Mr. Steward.” She rushed off, her quiet shuffling so different from the clatter of Amanda’s heels on the parquet floor.

“Mr. Steward?” Ripe-red lips pursed. “Then she isn’t your girlfriend, is she?”

“She isn’t.” It was true. Jenny Douglas was far more than a girlfriend. She was his lover and his muse. She’d given him laughter and hope here in this miserable house that no longer felt like a prison. She’d become his steadfast support as he began to know Rob.

She was more.

More than he could understand. More than he could handle.

“Da.” An indignant, childish voice came from the open doorway. “How can ye say that?”

A flush of mortification flooded Cam’s cheeks. He hadn’t meant it as his son had taken it. Nevertheless, he saw the disappointment in Rob’s expression and his heart shrank.

He was screwing up again.

Predictably.

“The big dobber is blushing. Things get more and more interesting every minute.” Tre gave him a last look and then focused on his son. “Ye must be Robbie.”

“No.” The scowling boy marched into the hallway, dragging a large piece of wood behind him. Cam had convinced him it would work as a sword, if they’d cut off some of the leaves and branches. The conversation had taken a perilous turn or two, but eventually, with Jen’s soft, persuasive voice, his son had agreed. “I’m Rob.”

“Hello.” His friend kneeled to meet the boy’s steady gaze. “Ye resemble your father.”

He got a tawny frown of rejection in response.

Cam’s heart sank further. He and Rob had been doing well for the last few days. He’d let his hope for a true father-and-son relationship fly free once more. Yet now, because of one stupid answer, it appeared that all the progress he’d made had disappeared.

“Father?” Amanda’s voice rose in astonishment. “Cam? You have a son?”

Now that he knew Rob wasn’t a sickly child, there’d been no reason to keep his existence hidden from anyone. In a way, this party was a chance to introduce his son to his past and present colleagues and hopefully, some of the young lads from town who could end up as his friends.

“Aye. I do,” he said simply, hoping the scowling boy standing in their midst would hear the pride in his voice.

The scowl didn’t budge. “Da. I can’t believe—”

Amanda swiveled from staring at the father to smiling at the son. “You don’t look like your father. You’re much better-looking, Rob.”

“Am I?” The thought pulled the disappointment and rejection off the boy’s face, replacing it with quizzical delight. “Do ye think so?”

Her timing had always been impeccable. Just as Tre and he were about to go at each other’s throats, she’d sweep in between them with a joke and dissipate the tension. Cam let out a huff of relief.

“I know so.” She bent down and grinned at the boy. “I’m a woman after all.”

His son clearly saw what he himself had noted the very first time he’d spotted Amanda Reed.

A fellow daredevil.

Rob gave her a big grin back.

“Is that a sword ye have there?” Tre slid his fingers across the rough wood. “Looks scary.”

“It’s the only sword I’m allowed to have.” The answer was matched with a surly glance at his father.

“Allowed to have?” His best friend stood and stared at Cam in amazement. “Did your father make this rule?”

“A rule?” Amanda straightened on her heels and laughed. “Cameron Steward making rules?”

Another flush threatened. “Come on, both of ye. I’ll show ye to your rooms and we’ll talk during dinner.”

“Do I get to have dinner with ye, too?” Rob threw him another look, this one of entreaty.

He shuddered internally, thinking of Amanda’s war stories and Tre’s litany of sexual conquests. “No, not tonight. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“You’re mean and horrible.” His son glowered at him before striding off to the back of the house, his wooden sword clanking behind him.

“Appropriate?” His friend shook his head. “Have I landed in another reality where the dobber has become a responsible father?”

“Fuck off.”

“I never thought I’d see anyone describe Cam as mean and horrible,” Amanda chimed in, a taunt in her tone. “Usually, the words are dashing and daring.”

“Ye can both fuck off.” He paced down the great hall, now packed with furniture he liked. “But if ye want a bed tonight, you’d better follow me.”

Tre grabbed the dropped suitcases. “Lead on, Macduff, and show us where we’re going to lay our heads these next few nights.”

“Then you can tell us all about being a conscientious parent.” Amanda sniggered.

Cam kept his pace, wishing he could keep walking until he found himself on the other side of the earth.

* * *

T
he moon was nearly
full tonight, and its graceful beams filled the garden with an ethereal glow. The waves of the loch churned in a gentle roll over the rock-strewn shore.

Jen walked down to the water, clutching a wool sweater tight around her waist. Although it was only a few more days to May, the wind held the nip of winter in it. She hoped for Cam and Robbie’s sake, tomorrow night would be a touch warmer for their bonfire guests.

Two more days.

The time trickled steadily away like the whisper of sand running through an hourglass. And tonight, when she’d met Cam’s two friends, she’d realized that in some ways, her time had already run out.

They’d been bold and fresh and alive.

They’d filled the grand hallway with their confidence.

They’d made her realize, she didn’t fit. Not here, exactly like she’d never fit at her grandfather’s.

Plus, Cam hadn’t appeared at her bedroom door tonight. Not as he had the last three nights. Three nights of laughter and bliss and pure joy. Instead, he was probably still laughing and joking with his friends, who were so much like him. So little like her.

Apparently, what she had with him was all over, too.

Perhaps because of the appearance of another female. A female who wore lipstick and high heels and tight leather skirts. A female who excited small boys and grown men. She’d seen it in Cam’s expression when he smiled at Amanda Reed. She’d heard nothing except astonished awe from Robbie as they shared their dinner in her cozy nest.

“She said I’m better looking than Da.” The boy had punched his spoon into his pudding with a satisfied smile. “She’s really pretty, she would know.”

Jen had murmured a vague response, pushing away the stupid impulse to compete.

“Da told me she flies around the world and gets into war zones and stuff.” His eyes had gleamed exactly like his father’s did whenever a new challenge presented itself. “I’m thinking that’s what I want to do when I grow up.”

She’d stuck her nose in her teacup, trying to keep the images of Robbie, bloody and broken, from taking form inside her brain.

“I’m sure she’ll be tons of fun during the next couple of days,” the boy had continued. “I can tell by the look in her eye. I bet she’d do just about anything.”

While Jen had to be coaxed into crazy behavior.

The message, delivered with a child’s insensitivity, had been clear.

Kneeling, she grabbed a cold stone from the loch and threw it as hard and far as she could. The small splash did nothing to assuage the hurt.

Cam had invited her to join the adults, but she’d declined. She would have been as awkward as she’d always been at her grandfather’s parties. Amanda Reed intimidated her and Tre’s charm would have overwhelmed her abilities. All her old insecurities, all her wretched faults had crashed into her present. The reminders had been painful, almost as painful as starting to bury the last of her silly dreams.

Robbie had unknowingly thrown the first shovel of dirt over those dreams.

“I don’t care what Da says.” He’d peered at her with a wary gaze. “I know he feels something for ye, Jen. Even if he doesn’t say so.”

“What do you mean?” She pushed back in her seat, ready for a painful blow because of the expression on the boy’s face.

“Never mind.” He concentrated on his pudding. “I called him on it and I’ll protect ye.”

An ache of affection threatened to overwhelm her, yet fast behind had come another ache. An ache of rejection. Something had been said or done that had told Robbie the stark truth about what was going on with Cam and her.

Their relationship wasn’t real.

Their relationship wasn’t long term.

Their relationship wasn’t meant to be.

She’d thought she’d have more time. Just a tiny bit more time.

But reality trudged toward her with grim determination.

Shrugging off her slide into despair, Jen swung around and headed for the boathouse. She couldn’t sleep. She’d tried. Somehow, though, in such a short time, she’d become used to Cam’s warmth next to hers.