Authors: Xio Axelrod
Tags: #multicultural, #scotland, #interracial, #multicultural and interracial romance, #interracial adult romance, #highlands romance
Girls always
did.
It had been in his family
for over three centuries. Once five hundred acres, the land had
been parceled out over the years, though the boundaries were
invisible. The manor itself was grand enough to leave anyone with
the impression that its owners were well-to-do. While the
Mackays
were
comfortable enough, the estate was their biggest asset and
technically belonged to a trust. Hamish lived in a smaller cottage
at the loch’s edge. If Lovie’s friend had any caviar dreams, they
would be quickly dashed. Though, that would probably be a good
thing.
“
If you’re bringing me out
here to kill me, just promise you’ll make it quick.”
“
Wha?” Duff took a quick
glance at Lovie. Only a quick one, because taking his eyes off the
path to the house was risky in daylight. In the pitch black, it was
just plain stupid.
“
I can’t see anything past
the headlights.” She clutched the door, with one hand braced
against the ceiling.
He chuckled. “Dinna fash.
We’re almost there, and no one’s going to kill ye.”
It was hard not to watch
her bounce with the jostling of the car. Very hard. She bounced
very well and in all the right places.
Duff had wanted this girl
since the moment he laid eyes on her. But she wasn’t his type, the
kind you love and leave. She was the kind you keep.
And to think he’d almost
kissed her back at the fort. That would have been a huge fucking
mistake. Epic.
Duff didn’t want to keep
or be kept, he avoided attachments. Getting attached meant giving a
fuck, and he had no more fucks left to give.
Not after having his
entire family tried in the court of public opinion. Not after being
forced out of his boyhood home. And not after moving from town to
town with his mother, doing whatever it took to survive.
Yeah, okay, he was a man.
He had needs. And he’d never had a problem finding a beautiful
woman, no matter where he was in the world, willing to fill
them.
Single serving
fuckbuddies.
A little booze, a lot
of
charm
and they’d fall into his bed. But he never stuck around long
enough to get to know them. Hell, sometimes he hadn’t even bothered
to learn their names.
Lovie let out a
shriek.
Duff slammed on the
breaks, throwing them both forward.
“
Are you alright?” He
checked her over, pushing her hair back. Her fucking Bambi eyes
stared up at him and his cock twitched.
Bloody hell.
“
I-I thought I saw
something.” Poor thing, she shook like a leaf. Duff peered over the
hood and saw the cause of her distress.
“
It’s just a wee
fox.”
He inched forward after
the creature dashed off into the night. “Are ye scairt? I thought
you Americans were made of tougher stuff.”
Duff took the road slower
now, mindful of its inhabitants. Beside him, Lovie collected
herself and made an indignant sound.
“
We are, it’s just...I’m a
woman, and you’re a stranger. And do they have electricity in this
part of the world?”
“
Aye, we’re not complete
barbarians. We jus’ dinna see a reason to light the whole of
Scotland.”
“
Why not?”
“
Well, there are animals
that only come out at night, when they feel safe. If we lit every
bloody mile, it would destroy the natural cycle, ye
ken?”
“
Yeah, I
ken
.” She teased. Smart
arse. “Very conscientious people, you Scots.”
“
Not all, but some.” He
pulled into the driveway. “Here we are.”
“
Was that an actual castle
we just passed?” Lovie got out and walked to the back of the
car.
Duff met her there to get
their bags out of the boot.
“
That’s the manor. Belongs
to the family, but Hamish lives here in the cottage.”
Her eyes went wide.
“Cottage? This is bigger than the house I grew up in.”
Duff laughed. “Aye, well,
it’s all about perspective, I suppose.”
Lovie smiled up at him,
and everything went still. He was struck dumbfounded. Christ, she
was so…
Duff cleared his throat.
“C’mon.”
She followed him to the
door, taking it all in.
It was a lovely place, he
had to admit. Tranquil. Sometimes, it was hard to believe that it
was only a few miles from town.
Once inside, Joana whisked
Lovie off to her room for some girl talk, presumably. Hamish turned
to him with a wolfish grin.
“
This is shaping up to be
a fine night, ma wee mannie!” He tousled Duff’s hair, which he
hated. Stepping away from the stairwell, he motioned for Hamish to
follow.
“
What on God’s green earth
are ye
doin’
?
Bringin’
her out here?”
“
She’ll have her own
room.” Hamish raised his hands, protesting his innocence, but his
face had gone beet red.
“
What of
Sofia?”
“
I’m no breakin’ any vows,
man. Calm down! It’s just a-”
“
Wee bit o’ fun, yeah ye
said as much.” Duff shook his head. “I just...dinna understand why
ye’d risk everything for it.”
Hamish clapped Duff on the
shoulder. “There’s no risk. Now you, ya dog, what’s up with you and
that one?” He gestured toward the stairs where Lovie had just
disappeared.
“
Nothin’.”
“
Nothin’
my arse, you two were awfully cozy out front.
Don’t think I didna see you.”
Duff turned away,
shrugging him off. “I don’t know what you think you
saw-”
“
Calm down. Christ,
man
.” Hamish
frowned. “Ye’ve been a right bastard since ye got home. Everything
alright with ye?”
Duff straightened. “Aye,
o’course.”
“
Is this about your da?”
Duff spun back to him, and Hamish frowned. “Still?”
“
No! It’s not about him.
I’ve nothing to do with him. Havna
done
for a long time!”
Rather than back off,
Hamish stepped into him. “Awright, brother. Awright. Didna mean to
touch a sore nerve.” He put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not
him, Duff. You’re a better man that he could ever be. You know
that, don’t you?”
Duff deflated from the
pity in his voice. He met his friend’s eyes. “Jus’ leave
it.”
After a breath, Hamish
nodded. “Done.”
“
Let’s get this party
started!” Joana bounded down the steps and headed straight to the
whiskey cabinet.
“
Where’s
Lovie?”
“
Taking a shower. She’ll
be down in a few.”
Hamish had a nice
collection of eighteen and twenty-year-old whiskeys. Duff watched
as she inspected the different bottles.
“
I know nothing about
Scotch.”
“
Well, I will have to
teach you.” Hamish joined the blonde at the bar.
Duff watched his best
friend and Lovie’s best friend come together in a fit of smiles and
glances. He had become invisible.
“
I’ll, er, take my bag
up.”
This was so very, very
wrong. He would have to say something before things got out of hand
completely. He made for the stairs when something he heard stopped
him cold.
“
I can’t believe a guy
like you doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
The fuck?
Duff stepped back down
into the parlor. Hamish peered over Joana’s head and blanched like
a kid caught with his father’s girly magazines.
Oh yeah. It was time to
put a stop to this.
Hamish shook his head,
pleading with his eyes.
Not
now.
“
Soon,” Duff mouthed to
him before heading up the steps.
Opening Doors
When he reached the
first-floor landing, Duff closed the door behind him and cursed
under his breath. Christ on the cross! He’d been back three days,
and already he was in the middle of a mess.
He ran a hand through his
hair and turned toward his room. A soft, musical voice halted him
in his tracks. He’d warned Hamish about the latch on the bathroom
door ages ago, and now it stood ajar.
The occupant, completely
unaware of the exposure, continued her melody. The song was some
annoying Christmas tune, but it sat sweetly on Lovie’s voice. She
passed by
the small
crack, and suddenly Duff couldn’t
breathe.
Her back was to him. Her
skin a long pour of single malt that he wanted to savor. Duff’s
eyes followed the slight curve of her hip as she dried off,
obviously just out of the shower. He felt like a predator.
Should’ve turned away and slipped into his room before she caught
him peeping like a perv.
She was so goddamn
gorgeous. He was so overwhelmed by the thought of tasting
all of that fresh, dewy skin that
his damned feet wouldn’t move.
Lovie wrapped the towel
around her body and panic gripped him. Duff hustled down the hall
into his room, holding his breath as he stood behind his closed
door. His heart beat wildly against his rib cage, the pulse
pounding in his fingertips. His lips. His cock. Only after he heard
Lovie walk past, still whisper-singing the same tune, did he
relax.
There was something about
this woman that unnerved him. He’d told her things that he usually
never spoke of aloud. Hamish would joke that maybe he’d finally met
his match.
Duff snorted.
He’d never been down that
road before and had no desire to make the trip. Besides, she lived
three thousand miles away.
And then there was this
thing with Hamish and Joana. He needed to get him to come clean.
Tonight. The lad was like a brother to him, but damn if he didn’t
drag him into some fucked up situations. He was supposed to stand
up as his best man in little more than a week. If it weren’t for
him and his inability to find his arse with his own two hands, Duff
might not be hiding in his room from a woman like Lovie.
“
Ah, God,” he chided
himself. “Don’t be stupid man. Ye’d be clot-heided to get involved
with her.”
A knock at the door sent
him stumbling back. He recovered quick enough to answer and found -
thank heaven for its sweet mercy - a fully-clothed Lovie on the
other side.
“
Hey.” She smiled, warming
him from the inside out.
Fucking hell.
“
Uh, hey.” Her sweater
hugged her curves in the most distracting way.
“
I thought I heard you in
there. Are you coming down? Jo said something about food and I
thought about trying my first Scotch.”
“
You mean to say you’ve
never had whiskey?”
“
I’ve had some, but not
real Scotch.” She shuffled from one foot to the other. Little
tendrils of hair, damp from the shower, clung to her neck. He
wanted to bury his face there.
Duff had to look
away.
“
Also, I don’t want to be
a third wheel.”
Ah. Right. “Canna miss yer
first taste of ambrosia, now can I?” Another blinding smile had
Duff’s jeans tightening. He wanted to strip her down and explore
every inch of her.
This woman was definitely
trouble.
****
The living room, or parlor
as Hamish called it, was pretty cozy for being such a large room.
When Duff called the house a cottage, she thought perhaps he
was being
facetious. It was a cottage but on a grand scale. With
ten-foot ceilings, a ginormous hearth with a mantel the size of a
twin
bed
and enough comfy leather furniture to seat twenty, it was
still a rather intimate space.
Too intimate for
some.
Lovie had hoped that Duff
would ease the discomfort she felt watching Jo moon all over
Hamish. He may have looked like The Calum, but his personality left
everything to be desired. Hamish was clearly more in love with
himself than anyone else could ever be. And yet, Jo hung on his
every word. Even though every word seemed to be about
him.
“
I dinna want to brag,
but-” Lovie hated the smug, self-congratulatory laugh that he did
when he was about to do just that. Bragging seemed to be his
occupation. Classic narcissist. “I went top o’ the class that year.
Duffy
was
what, third? Fourth?”
“
Second.” Duff sat on the
back of a leather chair, staring into the hearty fire. Beside him,
a nine-foot Christmas tree twinkled in red, green and gold. As
picturesque as it all was, Lovie wasn’t feeling particularly
Christmas-y.
“
Anythin’
after first is hard to remember.” Hamish laughed
his stupid laugh, and Jo giggled like Julie Rabinow in the fifth
grade. Trilly and obnoxious.