The Sweetest Hours (Harlequin Superromance) (20 page)

He’d arrived before she did, and when she walked past the traditional brass bar with mirrors and stools inside the bustling, wood-paneled restaurant, Malcolm was already there. He immediately saw her, and he stood and waved her over.

With a calm expression, he passed her a luncheon menu. “How was your morning, Kristy?” He took her coat from her and hung it on a hook.

Her heart pounding, she ran her hand through her hair, raking the tangles she’d gotten from rushing along the windy streets to meet him on time.

“Edinburgh was great,” she gushed. “I haven’t had a vacation day like this in... I don’t remember how long.”

She took a breath. “But that’s not the big reason we’re here, is it?” She peered at Malcolm, trying to gauge how the morning had gone, but couldn’t tell from his expression if it had been favorable for her or not. “Tell me, because I’m on pins and needles. What happened with the lawyers?” She glanced around. “And where is your uncle? I thought he was meeting us.”

Malcolm cleared his throat. “Well, we spent the early part of the morning meeting with our lawyers, attempting to gain an understanding of the contract terms regarding any new brands not covered under the original agreement.”

“And?”

He tapped on the plastic menu, idly curling the corner of it with his finger. “And they’re still looking into it.”

Oh, no. Malcolm looked stern, not at all happy. She leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, but my uncle wants to fully understand the scope of this new development,” he continued carefully. “He instructed that he doesn’t want to let the Born in Vermont brand go back to Astley for nothing,
if
it turns out that we own it. My uncle might even prefer that we develop the product line ourselves. Either way, he requested to see more detailed financials from me on the projected numbers.”

“That’s...good news,” she said. “Right?”

Malcolm’s expression was carefully bland—she would hate to be on the other side of a negotiation with Malcolm. He had a great poker face.

“It’ll take some work on my part,” he said. “But essentially that’s why he declined to attend lunch with us today—there are still too many unknowns with the proposal, and he wants us to work them out together first.”

He paused, frowning. “Bottom line, can you stay a few days longer? I know you joked about it earlier, but it’s serious now. He really does want to see something on Friday from us.”

Her heart sped up. “He asked for a presentation?” This was great news. “Absolutely! You know that I can.”

He nodded. “I can work from home—my family castle, that is. No need to travel to the office again.”

“So...do you think I should stay at the castle, too?”

“Yes, you can stay at my parents’ castle with me. And Rhiannon likes you, so it will be nice for her,” he said finally.

Kristin couldn’t tell for sure, but he seemed conflicted over that statement.

Malcolm reached for the seat beside him and, gazing down at it, carefully took an envelope he’d lain there, and then placed it on the polished wooden table before her.

For a moment there was silence between them until Kristin recognized the envelope. “That’s...the copy of the report I gave your uncle last Friday.”

Malcolm’s lips were pressed together.

“Oh. You didn’t know I’d given it to him, too.... I meant to tell you,” she said. “Honestly, in the excitement, I just plain forgot.”

He nodded tersely. “That’s what I’d hoped, when my uncle showed it to me.”

“Did that...cause problems for you?”

He took in a breath, as if hesitating to say so. Finally, he gazed into her eyes. She saw hurt there.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I didn’t say anything, Kristy. You don’t know what you’re sorry for.”

“I can guess, though. I work in a corporation, too, Malcolm. Or at least, I used to.” She ran her fingers along the edge of the binder. “My guess is that my report made you look bad. Like you weren’t on top of the Aura integration the way that your uncle expects you to be.”

He leaned back in his chair. He genuinely looked stunned.

“Am I right?” she asked.

He smiled slightly. “Yes.”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“You.” He shook his head, the grin spreading over his face. “You know more about business relations than you give yourself credit for. You constantly amaze me.”

The person behind Malcolm attempted to scrape his chair back, and Malcolm had to stand so the man could exit. While Malcolm was standing, Kristin took the advantage to impulsively jump to her feet and bracket his head in her hands.

She firmly kissed him on the mouth.

His hands rested at her waist. “What was that for?” he murmured against her ear.

“You,” she whispered, leaning her cheek against his scratchy cheek. “This is what I think about you.”

And then she turned her head and kissed him again. He slashed his mouth over hers and kissed her more deeply. His fingers fanned across her lower back, and she felt sweet warmth spread through her. She sighed audibly and snuggled her hips closer to his body.

His tongue lightly swept the seam of her lips, a delicious invitation, and she opened her mouth to his, letting her tongue mingle with his. It felt amazing, even though she was fully aware that she was making out with him in public.

But inexplicably, she wasn’t worried about that hurting their presentation. Malcolm was on her side. All the noise and the bustle seemed to fade into the background, until all that was left was her and Malcolm. She let her hands drift up, over his collar and feather through his hair. He smelled so good. And he tasted even better.

For a moment, she felt heavy with an ache, with a need for him....

“Are you ready to order?” A harried waitress interrupted them, a pen and a writing pad in hand.

Kristin jumped back, her hand instinctively covering her mouth.

Malcolm gripped her other hand in his, smoothly anchoring her beside him. “Do you mind if I order for you, Kristin?” he calmly asked her.

“I... No,” she said to him. Truthfully, she hadn’t even had a chance to look at the menu. “You go ahead, please. I trust you completely.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

H
E
WAS
FALLING
head over heels in love with her, faster and harder than he’d expected. As if sucked into an ocean undertow that he had no control over, he had no choice but to go along, hoping for the best.

Tuesday morning, Malcolm knocked on the door to Kristin’s guest room in the castle, knowing it was probably a futile gesture he had planned, but not knowing what else to do. It was time. He couldn’t avoid it any longer.

Kristin opened the door and stuck her head out, blinking, likely surprised to see him here, rather than downstairs at breakfast as they’d planned. “Good morning, Malcolm,” she said, smiling shyly.

He put his hand on the doorjamb, more to brace himself than anything else. After yesterday’s hot, impulsive kiss she’d given him—in the middle of the day, in one of Edinburgh’s trendiest office-worker haunts—he’d gone back to work, unable to concentrate. Useless for anything else but thinking of her.

“Good morning,” he said in a low voice.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, pulling her hair back into a ponytail.

The curves of her face stood out clearly. She just bewitched him.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he
was
okay. He wasn’t himself, if that’s what she meant. In the shower this morning, it had occurred to him that if they were successful in gaining approval with her Born in Vermont project, then she’d be going home and staying there, with no reason to visit Scotland again.

He could only think of one possibility to keep her in Scotland for a while longer and explore if what seemed to be starting between them could possibly have a future.

“I’m...scheduled to take a drive this morning,” he said, jiggling his car keys. “I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.” No, he needed to be clearer than that. “Actually, there’s something I really need to show you.”

Her brow creased. “I thought we were working on the Born in Vermont presentation for Friday today?”

“We are.” He had flipped through the report last night in his bedroom, unable to sleep anyway. He’d estimated he would need two solid days, with her help, to flesh out and add the financial projections. “Just not this morning,” he said. “I’ve had today’s commitment set up for a while, and I can’t cancel it. The trip won’t take long.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, still looking skeptical.

He smiled at her, because she looked as if she needed reassurance. “I’d rather surprise you.”

She smiled and bit her lip. Kristin did love surprises. “Will I like it?”

He sure as hell hoped so. He had no idea what he would do if she didn’t. “I know
I
like it.”

“Hmm. Sounds like a plan, then.” She opened the door wider. “Am I dressed appropriately?”

If she were in rags, she would look great to him. He gazed up and down at her, his body registering her formfitting pants, her boots, her long turtleneck sweater that just tantalizingly covered her hips from view. He kept thinking of yesterday, of what it had felt like to have her warm body pressed fully against him.

“Perfect,” he murmured.

She smiled, pleased. Turning abruptly, she picked up her McGunnert shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. Driving the final stake in his heart.

She
had
to stay longer.

And as she followed him down the stairs and outside to the car, it occurred to him what a risk he was taking. If he did this wrong, it could all end tonight.

* * *

K
RISTIN
LEANED
BACK
in Malcolm’s car and hummed to the music on the sound system. They were zipping along past some of the most spectacular scenery she’d seen yet. A Scottish loch, so deep blue she could skim by it for hours. She watched what looked to be an eagle flying ahead of them, and it seemed to be leading them on a fortuitous path.

She couldn’t help but believe that things were finally looking up for her. Malcolm had told her last night on the drive home that the lawyers had ascertained, after spending an afternoon reviewing documents, that Born in Vermont did belong to Sage Family Products, which meant that Malcolm was free to propose a business plan for it as part of his company. She’d barely been able to contain her excitement. She was closer than ever to getting what she’d come to Scotland for in the first place.

She leaned back in her seat, the belt snug across her shoulder, and gazed at Malcolm, driving in silence. In profile, she saw his strength. This was a man who got the job done: a capable man. He had rolled up his shirtsleeves, showing strong forearms with fine, light brown hair. He had strong biceps and shoulders, straining against the cotton broadcloth as he steered.

If she dared, she would love to snuggle up closer, run her fingers along his jawline and through his hair. She could envision herself curling up closer inside the curve of his embrace. He was just so damn sexy.

He felt her gazing at him, and he turned, smiling at her. A flush of warmth spread through her chest, and she looked away. Part of her still felt a bit skittish and conflicted. Yesterday, she’d loved kissing him in that restaurant, had hungered for him, had been amazed by how good she felt with him. But then she’d reminded herself: she had so much to lose in letting herself get too physically close to him. And just as quickly, the hunger had left her.

Thankfully, Malcolm had not pushed her, had let her sit in silence during the long, dark drive home to Inverness without nudging her to
talk
about it, and she had appreciated that, more than he’d ever know.

She was just so...afraid. Afraid of committing to too much, too quickly. Afraid of feeling trapped by her choices. But if she were honest, too, the major fear would be leaving the safety of the comfort zone she’d lived within for all these years. Malcolm had alluded to it on the drive to Edinburgh yesterday, but she hadn’t really thought about it until now.

Unconsciously, she touched her throat. Loosened the shawl that had gotten too tight beneath the restraint of the seat belt, giving her freedom to breathe.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Are we almost there?”

“It’s just over that hill.” He gestured with his chin.

Where could they possibly be going? Malcolm turned the car onto a wider road, with two lanes in each direction, more like the highways she was used to at home rather than a rural country drive.

And then she saw it. “Sage Family Products,” the sign read. “Byrne Glennie facility.”

A chill shot through her body, and she felt her jaw drop open. What was Malcolm doing?

He turned the wheel so they headed down a long, pine tree–lined drive. Ahead was a huge, new facility at least five times the size of the Aura Botanicals plant.

Viscerally, she sensed a scream bubbling inside her, but she felt frozen in place.

Aura Botanicals didn’t exist anymore.
This place
had swallowed it up.

She put her hand to her mouth. A huge employee parking lot surrounded the facility, and the spaces were packed full of the smaller, European-style compact cars she was getting used to seeing in Scotland.

“Why did you bring me here when I’d asked you not to?” she finally choked out, turning in her seat to face him.

Malcolm’s face was slightly pale. He parked the car at a reserved space in the front and turned off the engine.

He didn’t say anything, just looked at her, his poker-faced expression successfully masking his true designs.

“I told you already,” she said, feeling something akin to hysteria growing inside her, “I don’t want to work for Sage. Don’t try to make me do something that I don’t want to do. Don’t
ever
try to make me do something I don’t want to do!”

His mouth seemed to drop open. “That wasn’t my intention, Kristy.”

“But you are doing it!” She tore for the door handle, but the car door was locked from inside. Gasping, she fumbled for the lock, until she’d succeeded in opening the door and staggering to the pavement.

Outside, a blessedly cool breeze ripped through her, whipping her hair and the ends of her scarf. She clawed at her neckline, loosening the tight material. It felt so much better to have her feet planted free, on firm ground that she could run away over, if need be.

The door slammed behind her, and Malcolm was beside her in an instant. She backed away a step. “Stop trampling me,” she said. “You’re making me feel trapped.”

“Kristin, I won’t ever hurt you.”

“I’m not
saying
you’ll hurt me! I’m
saying
that you’re...you’re...trying to manipulate me and make me do what you want me to do instead of what I
want
to do.”

His brows drew together, and his face darkened. Now he seemed peeved. “That is the last thing I would ever do to anyone. You must be mistaking me for somebody else.”

When she didn’t answer, his glare turned to a softer expression. “Is that what other people do to you?”

“No!” She crossed her arms. “There’s just...a very strong reason why I am wary of being in relationships, Malcolm. I do have my comfort zone, but I’m also a person who needs to be free. I was born that way,” she finished helplessly. “It’s very confusing.”

“I do see that in you,” he said quietly. “You’re a free spirit. You don’t want to be trapped.”

“Then why did you bring me here?”

“Because I thought you would be happy here once you saw it.” He took in a ragged breath. Swiped his hand through his hair. “I thought of two main reasons,” he said, not able to look her in the eye. “One, because you’re talented—one of the most talented people I know—and they don’t appreciate that in your hometown. And, two, yes, because I selfishly want you here and thought you might want to be with me, too.” His gaze met hers, and stayed there. He seemed to be pleading with her.

“But why?” she whispered. “Why would you want
me?
I’m so flawed.”

He bracketed her face lightly with his hands. “Flawed? You’re amazing, Kristy,” he whispered. “Flaws and all.”

She backed away from him.

Oh, she wished she believed him. She wished she could be like other women and appreciate a great guy when she met one. But she couldn’t....

Suddenly, she just felt so sad. “I can’t, Malcolm,” she said. “I wish, but, no, I can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t go in there with you.”

“You
won’t
go in there with me, you mean,” Malcolm said. “You don’t even want to
try?
”

She shook her head. She really didn’t.

He stared at her for a long time. His chest rising and falling. He looked as if he was giving up on her. Maybe he
had
given up on her; he just hadn’t walked away yet.

Finally, he took the car keys he gripped in his hand and tossed them to her. She caught them, feeling their warmth transferred from his body.

“When you decide otherwise, you let me know, Kristy. But I have to go inside.”

She hesitated, staring at him.

“So go ahead,” he said, “you’re free. Leave. Go see Loch Ness. Or Urquhart Castle. Or any other of a million places you could be besides here.” He glanced at his watch. “I have work to do.”

And then he turned and walked away. She watched him stride toward the glassed-in entry to the facility. Watched him disappear inside the building.

She waited, but Malcolm didn’t come out again.

Now what? She shivered, leaning against his car, wearing just her shawl, not warm enough or waterproof enough to stand up to the wind that whipped her and the smattering of raindrops that fell from the gray-cloaked sky.

Tears stung her eyes, but she brushed them away. She had to do something. Anything but stand still and think. Or stay in place and feel pain.

Shakily, she held out his key ring and beeped herself inside his vehicle.

The driver’s seat was pushed back much too far for her. She found the buttons that adjusted the seat for her shorter height. Then she rested her hands on the steering wheel.

She could drive away now—to anyplace she wanted. But somehow, it felt like she would be sabotaging herself if she did. If she ran from what had become of Aura, wouldn’t that be hurting her chances for Born in Vermont?

She cared about Born in Vermont. She needed to fight harder for it.

Her eyes burned but she knew what she had to do. She
was
strong enough to face what needed to be faced, whether Malcolm understood that or not. She got out and locked the vehicle again. Girded herself to walk toward the entry that Malcolm had disappeared through.

A security guard greeted her from a front reception desk. He didn’t seem surprised to see her in the least. It turned out that Malcolm had already signed her in and arranged for a name tag, reading just, “Kristin.”

“I’ll call ahead and tell him that you’re here, miss,” the guard said. “You can wait for him at the end of that corridor.” The guard pointed.

Hesitantly, Kristin walked down a long, white hallway lined with windows on one side, overlooking the manufacturing facility. The plant below was fully automated, a huge, clean, frightening environment. The air didn’t smell fresh and natural like at Aura, it just smelled...sterile.

Today, various creams and lotions were being disseminated into plastic bottles rolling along on fast conveyor belts, but even from this distance, she could tell that the formulations were inferior in quality to Aura’s, with cheaper ingredients.

Bulk-produced and inexpensive. Mass-marketed and advertised on television. Everything that Laura had worked against. The very reason she’d started Aura Botanicals to begin with, she’d always said.

Kristin stopped and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Do you see that empty section over there?” Malcolm’s voice was low and quiet to her ears. She jumped a bit to hear him behind her, but as much as her instincts wanted to, she didn’t walk away from him.

“That’s where the Aura Botanicals products will be produced,” he continued, still explaining in a gentle tone. “The same packaging and formulations will be used as before, but we’re planning to arrange the equipment and set up more efficient processes. What we need is a great industrial engineer, and that’s what you can do here, Kristin, if you’d like. The job is yours if you want it.”