Some Like It Scot (13 page)

Business deal, she reminded herself. He needs you in good spirits, thinking kindly of him at all times.

“That sounds pretty good, actually,” she said, realizing as she said it she was feeling a bit ravenous. Finally. Maybe getting to her destination country, truly in a place no one would think to look for her, had settled her nerves enough to allow the knot in her stomach to unclench a little.

“Good,” he said, smiling. “I was getting a bit worried about you.”

Business deal
, she repeated to herself, while smiling back at him. “No need. I can—”

“Take care of yourself. I know,” he said, and there might have been a bit of an eyeroll, but the smile was sincere.

“I'm aware I keep saying that,” she said, “but trust me, as soon as I'm able I plan to practice what I've been preaching.”

“I've no doubt,” he said, sounding as if he truly meant it. “In the meantime, I'm no' patronizing you by being concerned about your general welfare. It's sincere.”

“It's business,” she said, not meaning to say it out loud. Too late.

His smile smoothed a bit, in that it no longer reached his eyes. “Is that why you think I'm being solicitous?”

“I think it makes sense to keep the client happy. At least, that's how I conducted business.”

“I don't generally have to concern myself with conducting business, as ye call it. I don't have clients. No' in the way ye do.”

“Still—”

“Still, when I say something to you, it's because I truly mean it. No' because I'm watching out for my potential investment.” He lifted a hand to stifle her protest. “I'm no' being cavalier with you, true. But I wouldn't be, no matter the circumstances. That's no' who I am.”

“No,” she said, “I don't imagine it is. You'll have to forgive me. I've been swimming with the sharks, often under my own roof, for so long now, I forget there are decent fish in the sea as well.”

He smiled again. “Shark bait, I presume.”

She laughed at that. “Possibly. Okay, okay, probably. But I'd like to leave the shark tank behind completely. How are the waters in your part of the sea?”

“Well, there's one shark in particular at the moment I'm a bit concerned about.”

“Iain?”

He nodded. “I should have already called, gotten an update. I'll try once we're on the train.”

“Why haven't you tried before?” she asked, truly curious.

“Honestly? I haven't known exactly what I wanted to say. They're all going to be very curious about how things went, and when I tell them, they'll be curious about you. And…I suppose I havena' wanted to share you as yet.”

His answer surprised her. Made her feel all warm and glowy.

“I know that sounds odd,” he added quickly, clearly seeing he'd flustered her a little, “but this whole escapade falls under that banner headline.” He lifted his hands. “Despite my sentiments where you're concerned, I do understand your business-only preference.”

“Graham—”

“To that end,” he went on, talking over her protestations, “I'll want to do what's necessary to make your entry into and subsequent stay on the island as smooth as possible. Everyone will be excited to meet you.”

“I was thinking about that, too. Maybe on the train—I think we need to talk, go over things, before we get there.”

“Agreed.”

The taxi lurched around a corner, sending Katie sprawling forward. Graham caught her arms and braced her so she wouldn't pitch headfirst into him, but once they'd regained their seating, he didn't immediately let her go.

She reached up to brush her hair from her face, which was only a few scant inches from his, she realized as she untangled the mess. Then their gazes got all tangled up, too.

Her breathing grew a little ragged as the moment spun out a little longer, and a little longer still. His pupils slowly expanded, swallowing up the gray irises. Maybe it was the gloomy skies, but she could swear there was a tinge of lavender glow there, too.

“Graham,” she said, surprised at how throaty she sounded.

He blinked, as if he'd been jerked out of a moment, but when he straightened, to let her go, Katie instinctively put her hand on his chest, stilling him. There was no doubt about that lavender flash, as he continued to regard her in silence.

“You asked…yesterday, in the limo. If I—if I felt something…different. Between us.”

“Aye,” he said, his own voice rougher than normal.

The sound of it shot a thrill straight through her.

Ill advised
, her big ass little voice shouted.
Business, business, business
.

But there was another fledgling little voice, that new one she'd given life to when she'd stood up, literally in front of God and everyone, and staked claim to a new life. That little voice was a champion for a new life. And it was saying…
tell him
. Be honest. For once, be open. To new things. New ideas.

New people.

“I did,” she told him, and watched, as another hot thrill drilled her, when those eyes went to that dark, stormy, intense place. “It's like…I can't explain it. But it's not normal. For me, anyway. It almost feels a little…out-of-body.” That was as close as she could come to telling him about the visions. That first one in particular. But they'd come to her in her sleep, too. Different visions, same theme. Same two people. Could simply be dreams. Daydreams…night dreams. But they'd felt pretty damn real. And more highly realized, more detailed, each time she slipped into one.

“Does if feel as if you're reminiscing about something that has actually happened?” he said. “Or is it more like dreaming of something you want to happen?”

Was he reading her mind? Her breath caught. No. It was wild enough that she had them. It wasn't possible that he—“Do you have them, too? These…reminiscences?”

His eyes flashed even darker. “You have them, then? The visions? Like suddenly you're watching a movie, only it's no' a film. You're seeing a different place and time, but the two people you're watching are—”

“Us,” she choked out. Her body was a wild combination at the moment, both tensing in fear at the inexplicable thing they were experiencing together…and feeling hot, bothered, and more than a little twitchy-needy at the thought of actually doing anything she'd pictured in those…reminiscences. With him. She nodded her head. “Yes.”

“Doing…”

She nodded a few more times, incapable of filling in the blank any more directly.

The intensity in his gaze increased. Something she hadn't thought possible. His body was heavy, warm, and broad as it loomed over hers, pulling her slowly down behind the stack of leather suitcases, out of the driver's view. And, heaven help her, she didn't even care. She wanted him heavy, broad, and naked, on her. Dear Lord it was hot in that taxi.

“What do you think it means?” he asked.

“We're both under…a lot of stress,” she managed, though the words were almost a raw whisper. Her throat was tight, as were the tiniest of muscles between her thighs. Gone was any sense of the weariness and fatigue she'd felt had been plaguing her. She was feeling quite energized at the moment, thank you very much.

“So, we're just…imagining things?” He kept most of his weight up on his elbows, but he didn't shift off her. “The exact same things?”

“We don't know they're exactly the same things,” she whispered. He felt so incredibly good, even partly on top of her. She couldn't think straight. The scent of him sent an arrow of lust straight through her.

“In your visions,” he persisted, making her focus when all she wanted to do was sink fully into the oblivion he was offering.

“Are you seeing a heavily carved headboard, broad like—”

She impulsively reached up and pressed her fingers to his lips before he could say another word. The result of touching him was like being in the middle of a sun flare.

He shifted his weight to one side, and covered her hand with his own, but instead of pulling her fingers away, he pressed them more firmly against his lips. He was not only heavy and warm and perfect on top of her…he was also aroused. Fully, from the feel of…things.

She couldn't help but think how easy it would be, with him wearing that kilt to just—

“Train station, coming up!”

Graham jerked upright so fast he rapped his head on the roof of the taxi.

Katie quickly righted and settled herself as well…and purposely did not make any effort to look up front at the driver and risk meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror.

She glanced over at Graham, at the same instant he glanced at her. Instead of flushing furiously, which would have been her expected reaction…she smiled. He surprised her by smiling back. Then she snickered, not intentionally. She couldn't seem to stifle it. He had that twinkle in his eye and she was feeling quite twinkly herself. A second later, he followed suit, until, like two partners in crime, they both burst out laughing, and continued to laugh until they were holding their sides, wincing.

“You know,” he said, when they finally got themselves under control, “I'm beginnin' to think I canno' be inside a conveyance of any type with you, without things getting out of control.”

She barely stifled another snicker. “I know! I was just thinking the same thing.”

“I probably should be reassuring you I am relieved there has always been a driver present, playing chaperone between us.”

“Probably, you should be doing that, yes,” she said, barely keeping a straight face.

He looked at her, then turned to stare straight ahead again. But she saw the slow smile curving his lips. “Aye. Probably should.”

And then did no such thing.

She turned and looked past her mountain of luggage, out her window. She was smiling, too.

“Departures,” their driver said, as he pulled to the curb in front of the busy Queen Street station building.

“I'll come around,” Graham said, and climbed out his side of the car.

Katie would have protested the need for it, as she would have felt silly sitting there waiting for him to come open her door, but with the luggage between her and her exit, it was wait or climb out his door after him and go around. The driver was already out and had closed Graham's door behind him as there was traffic going past on that side. So she sat where she was, and used the scant minute of time to regroup, to decide what in the hell she was going to do, after that little revelatory moment between them. What in the hell did all that mean?

Sure, the guy was getting to her, and she was having ridiculous, insatiably hot daydream fantasies about him—who wouldn't?—but the idea there was something else going on, something she couldn't put a name to? Mystical? Spiritual? Neither of those suited. What she'd seen, or felt, or imagined had been pulsing, primal, and far too visceral to be either of those things.

She thought about the moment after they'd revealed their shared visions, the intimacy in sharing a private laugh. It had felt good. Better than good. Better, almost, than the damn visions that had started the whole conversation.

Almost as good as he'd felt pressed down on top of her. The weight of him had felt so…well,
primal
was again the word that came to mind.

Other than with Blaine, she'd never really laughed with anyone, in that shared, only-we-get-it kind of way. It turned out that sharing that kind of moment with a man while simultaneously wanting him deep inside your personal space—deep in a lot of spaces, actually—was significantly more intriguing.

She wasn't quite sure what to do with that. Or with him—given the situation. She had no basis of comparison. No set plans or historical compilation of data on how to deal with that particular combination of events.

She was interested. So was he. Quite, from the feel of things. From what she'd felt, he seemed proportionate to his broad size, pretty much everywhere, and that was certainly skewing her reaction as well. Her life as she knew it might be DOA at the moment…but
she
most certainly wasn't dead along with it. Far from it if the tingly little sparks of awareness that skated quite pleasurably over her skin just thinking about him was any indication.

So, what do you do, Katherine Elizabeth Georgina Rosemary McAuley? What
do
you do?

The side door opened and between Graham and the driver, her mountain of luggage quickly became a molehill. Then it was time to take his offered hand and climb out behind them. And into the next stage in her new life. She was well aware the train ride was only part of it.

At least on a train, they'd have to remain civil and hands off. She doubted she'd have the luxury of simply sleeping through it, as she'd managed to do throughout the previous legs of their journey. They needed to discuss things, anyway.

But all she could think when she reached up and grabbed that warm, broad, work-roughened hand…was how it would feel caressing her skin. And cupping her—

“Katie?”

She realized she was staring at his hand in hers, scooted to the edge of the seat, and stepped out next to him. Quickly she disengaged her hand, then had to clear her throat when the words didn't move past the dry knot there. “So, where to next?”

“We take the train to Oban. From there it's a ferry ride out to Castlebay on the Isle of Barra, then another to Kinloch.”

She didn't have her watch, so she glanced at the sky. “Will we make the last ferry?”

“Being summer, it doesn't get dark until close to midnight, and even then, it's no' a full dark. The ferry schedule is busier these months. We should make it.” He paused for a moment and took a longer look at her face. “Were you…hoping otherwise?”

“No,” she said quickly.