The Sweetest Hours (Harlequin Superromance) (22 page)

Strange how life went on in the wake of something bad happening.

“So, I assume you met with John Sage,” Stephanie said.

“Why would you assume that?”

“Because...” Stephanie leaned closer to the screen, and she was whispering now. “Everybody from Aura has been in here yesterday and today, and they’ve been talking about it nonstop. Did you know that the team from Scotland is being delayed? Evidently, they were supposed to show up Monday to start packing the machinery, but a directive went out, and they never came.” Stephanie grinned at her. “Nobody seems to know how or why, but I do. I’ve been keeping your secret. You did that, didn’t you?”

“I did!” Kristin did an impromptu dance in her chair. Stephanie’s news meant Malcolm was keeping his word. Maybe she still had a chance to fix their rift. Maybe this partnership between them was salvageable. “Honestly, Steph? You heard them say all that?”

“So help me, God. I’d be an excellent corporate spy.” Stephanie lowered her voice, leaning closer to the screen. “Speaking of corporate spies, you are amazing. I can’t wait until everyone finds out how much you’ve been working your magic behind the scenes.”

The magic hadn’t come just from her, it had come from her and Malcolm together. Oh, God, she needed to see him....

“Steph, I have to go. I have more to tell you, but not for a few more days. Friday, I’m hoping.”

“You sound like you believe.”

“It...hasn’t been easy. There’s a man...”

“A
man?
”

“Malcolm,” she said helplessly. “And it turns out he’s John Sage’s nephew.”

Stephanie whistled. “I’m not going to judge. But let me just say this...if you’re able to pull off this Born in Vermont plan, then you’ll be the hero of the century around here.”

Kristin laughed. “Gee, no pressure from your end, is there?”

“Aunty!” Lily popped into view again. “Watch me do a cartwheel!”

“I didn’t know you could do a cartwheel,” Kristin said.

“She can’t,” Stephanie mouthed behind her.

“I just learned,” Lily said with the wide-eyed expression of someone who believed in herself perfectly.

Kristin grinned at her. “I guess we’re both learning something.”

But just then there was a knock on her door. Probably Rhiannon. Or maybe even Paul—Rhiannon said he sometimes dropped by with tea at about this time. Stephanie would be tickled pink to hear that Kristin had use of a butler.

“Hold on,” Kristin said. “Someone’s at my door, and before I go I want you to meet them.”

She sprang up and opened the bedroom door.

Malcolm stood on the threshold, wearing his wool overcoat, the smell of blustery weather on him. But his face brightened when he saw her.

She blinked, allowing herself to gaze at him for a moment. Her heart skipped in her chest at the sight of him.

Feeling flushed, she stood back and opened the door wider.

He dug his hands inside his coat pockets and stepped inside her bedroom.

“George!” Lily shrieked from the propped-up computer screen.

Oh, no,
Kristin thought.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“H
I
, L
ILY
,” M
ALCOLM
said to the little girl. “How are you doing?”

“Good!” Lily shrieked.

But Lily’s face on the screen was quickly replaced by her mom’s. Stephanie Hart leaned in closer—she looked dumbfounded. “George Smith? Is that you?” she demanded.

“Yes,” he answered calmly.

Kristin rushed over and grabbed the tablet computer that was running the video conference. “Please don’t tell anyone,” she whispered into the screen at her sister-in-law. She glanced at Malcolm, darting him an apologetic look.

That had to bode well for him.

When he’d dropped Kristin off this morning, he’d assumed she would never speak to him again. In fact, upon returning from the long day of meetings with his Byrne Glennie people, he’d half expected not to find her at all. But when he’d seen that ugly, white, glorified golf cart still parked outside his family’s castle, his hopes had soared.

How could he not help but grin at Kristin’s sister-in-law now? “Hello, love,” he crooned, laying the Highland accent on thick. “How’s business with you this fine afternoon?”

“
This
is Malcolm,” Kristin cut in hurriedly. Which made him believe she’d been discussing him with her sister-in-law.

Brilliant news.

Stephanie’s eyes bugged like a bullfrog’s. Her mouth snapped open and then shut.

He simply grinned at her.

“Um,” Kristin said to Stephanie, “Malcolm and I have to go now. I think it’s time we hang up.”

“I’m going to pretend I heard none of this,” Stephanie agreed. “But we will talk when you get home.”

Lily poked her face into view on the computer screen.

“So, we’re finished with our blethering, then?” he said in an exaggerated Scots’ accent for the little girl.

She giggled hysterically.

“Good night, Lily.” Kristin snapped off the iPad and tossed it on the chair. She put her hand to her mouth, too, and just stood staring at him.

* * *

K
RISTIN
FELT
HER
heart grow warm. And her eyes teary. “Thank you for that,” she said to Malcolm. She meant it with all her heart. “That was kind of you to keep your word about delaying the Sage people from moving into the Vermont plant. You’ve helped Stephanie with her business, even if just in a small way.”

Malcolm squirmed in his heavy coat. His smile seemed to vanish almost immediately. “Actually, I knocked on your door to let you know that I set aside tomorrow and Thursday to work on your Born in Vermont proposal. So...if you’re still interested in working with me, my uncle is ready to hear from us this Friday afternoon, before the wedding.”

“Of course, yes. That sounds great!”

He nodded, stiff and reserved. “Friday morning, my uncle will be arriving for the family’s quarterly meeting. We’ll give the presentation to him in the back sitting room, the one my mother normally uses.”

“Thank you for coordinating with him, and for keeping me informed,” she said. “I want this to be the best presentation we can possibly give.”

He shrugged. “I’m working here in the castle tomorrow anyway. You’re welcome to drop in and out as you please.”

“Sure. Thank you.” She bit her lip, feeling as if she wanted to smooth things over. Everything was suddenly too formal between them.

“Malcolm,” she blurted, “just because I don’t want to work at the Sage plant doesn’t mean that I don’t want to work with you.”

He dug his hands more deeply into his coat pockets. “Okay.”

“So...can you accept that and still support me?”

He sighed heavily. “Kristy, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have brought you to Byrne Glennie like I did.” He withdrew an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. “I saved this for you. It’s sort of an apology.”

Curious, she opened the envelope. Inside was a photograph of her and Laura Astley, walking the factory floor at Aura. Kristin had never seen the picture before, but from her short hair and baggier dress, it looked to have been taken the year that Kristin had first come to Aura. “Where did you get this?”

“It was tucked inside a box of files with the formulas that Jay shipped over. I found it by accident.”

Kristin smiled to herself. Yes, Laura was a surprising pack rat that way. She was also quite old-school. Very few of her formula notes had been kept on the computer.

Kristin ran her finger over the photo. She was glad to have a picture of her old mentor. “This is the only picture I have of us together like that.”

“Who is she?”

“Right, I forgot. You never knew Jay’s wife.”

“Ah.” Malcolm sat cautiously at the end of her bed. The only other chair in the room held Rhiannon’s tablet computer. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t keep the photo for myself. I was tempted, you see.”

“Why? This is a six-year-old picture of me. I look nothing like that anymore.”

Such a screwup, she had thought herself back then. She had been terrified all the time.

“I think you look beautiful,” Malcolm said quietly. “Both then and now.” His Adam’s apple moved up and down. He just looked so vulnerable saying that to her that she couldn’t stop staring at him.

“You do?” she whispered.

“Aye,” he said, in that deep Scottish burr. “I do, Kristy.”

Kristin put the photo down, a lump in her throat. From the way he gazed at her, she felt as if she was blushing all over.

He was sitting before her, so solid, so strong—all male. He was the one man who never seemed to take her exuberance or her quirkiness the wrong way. And he’d never made an unsolicited move on her, or even tried to kiss her when she didn’t want it.

He did not scare her in the least, or even make her feel uncomfortable, and that was remarkable for her. She hadn’t realized it until she’d seen this old photo of herself.

She moved the tablet computer aside and pulled the chair forward, facing Malcolm. Their knees were just barely touching, and it felt...nice.

Something inside her seemed to be melting. Was it her fear that was leaving her? Or the worry that often followed her around? Or her cautiousness that always kept her from taking chances? She put her hand over her mouth, trying to figure this out.

Malcolm was good to her. Kind. Handsome. And his kiss...

He smiled at her, that crooked smile she loved so much. “Am I forgiven for springing Byrne Glennie on you?”

“Y-y-yes.”

His smile turned sad. “I can’t promise you everything you want, Kristy. I don’t know what will happen with Born in Vermont. It’s not my call anymore.”

“I know. But we can be a team, and make a great presentation together. That’s all I can ask for.”

On impulse, she jumped up and rummaged in a drawer. She’d unloaded her suitcase and put her clothes inside the dresser—it had made her feel more grounded.

She found her Born in Vermont kit and pulled out the bottle she was looking for. Then she pressed it into Malcolm’s hand. “This is for you. Rhiannon asked me for more today, but I’d really been saving my last bottle for you. It’s made from birch and a hint of pine—okay, that’s proprietary, but we’re both part of the same team now, right? Anyway, the point is, it’s made for men as well as women....”

He unscrewed the cap and held it to his nose. A look of pleasure overtook him. “Kristy, that’s your smell.” He grinned at her. “It drives me wild.”

“It... Really?”

“Oh, love.” He threw back his head and laughed. “I’ll have to finance the damn plant myself, just so I can have more to remember you after you’re gone.”

He looked sad all of a sudden.

She swallowed. She was pretty sure she’d miss him, too.

It was hard to know. She just was so different from other women when it came to relationships. She wished she could fall in love easily, relax and find her soul mate. Be like...Stephanie. See the man she wanted, go after him and then,
bam,
live happily ever after—whether he came from Vermont or Scotland.

But for her, allowing love in wasn’t merely a quest, like finding her castle had been. There was so much more to it. It was a mystery to her....

“What did you do today?” he asked. “I noticed that your white car is parked closer to the house than it was earlier.”

“I spent some time with your sister.” Kristin couldn’t tell him about the driving lessons and Colin, because that would be a betrayal of the confidence she’d promised Rhiannon. She glanced at her hands.

She didn’t particularly like keeping knowledge about Rhiannon from Malcolm. She didn’t want there to be any more barriers, secrets between them. She wouldn’t put herself in that position again.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I took the car and went into town after that.”

“What did you do there?” He seemed genuinely interested.

“Well...” She opened the closet and took out the satiny mauve blouse she’d purchased. It was clingier and lower cut than she usually wore for clothing, but...she’d liked it and it had called to her. And maybe she’d been ready for a change. “I went shopping and bought this blouse, for one thing.”

She stood back and assessed it, pretty on its hanger. With the black skirt she’d brought from home—the one she’d worn to Sage the first day she’d landed in Edinburgh—it would make a great impromptu wedding outfit. She hadn’t realized that until now.

“Also, Rhiannon invited me to stay for your cousin’s wedding.” She glanced at him, gauging his reaction. “What do you think about that? Are you going, too?”

“I think...you will look brilliant in that sexy blouse. And I think I’d be an idiot to miss seeing you in it.”

She sat back down, but on the arm of the chair this time. Just a tiny bit more distance between her knees and Malcolm’s than before.

“I’m told you’re a great dancer,” she said.

He smiled. “Me? Maybe I am.”

“I’m going to be at a disadvantage, aren’t I?”

“Ah, the country reels. But not to worry, I can take it slow with you, lass.”

She bit her lip, feeling the blush overtake her. They were no longer just talking about the wedding.... It made her a little nervous.

She stood. “Rhiannon already promised to teach me,” she said lightly. “In fact,” she babbled, “I guess I’ll need shoes, too. I’ll have to ask for her help with that.”

“Kristy, love,” he said patiently, “Rhiannon isn’t going to be able to help you with wedding shoes.”

“Why? Because she’s agoraphobic because of the kidnapping?”

Malcolm blinked, physically seeming to back away from her.

Oh, no. She hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that. “I’m sorry. Rhiannon told me today. I didn’t mean to...”

“She
talked
with you about it?” He stared at her.

“She...just said...that you think it’s your fault, but to her, it’s not your fault at all. She thinks you blame yourself for what happened to her, and she doesn’t want you to do that anymore.”

“Really?” He stood. His face looked stricken.

“Malcolm, I am sorry.”

He walked to the turreted window and looked outside to the darkening evening, the “gloaming,” they called it. He braced his hands on either side of the window, his head down, and for a moment, he just stood there, alone.

She waited. She had a feeling he was gathering himself and that he did not want her to leave him while he did so. She didn’t want to leave him now, either.

“Kristy,” he said, turning finally, “there is something I want you to know.”

She braced herself, waiting.

* * *

M
ALCOLM
RAN
HIS
tongue over his broken tooth. He had never gotten his tooth fixed, because he’d never wanted to forget.

Protect the ones that you love at all costs.
That had been the major lesson he’d learned that week in his childhood, courtesy of the murderers who’d shoved him and his younger sister into a white van when Malcolm had been in charge of escorting Rhiannon to her weekly dance lesson.

Because of
his
ineptitude,
his
lack of judgment, his baby sister had been terrorized for eleven days. He still couldn’t think about that time without wanting to destroy something—so he never thought about it.

He compensated, maybe. He knew that about himself. And he also took consolation in the fact that those three monsters had died a violent, bullet-ridden death, though not before they’d taken out two innocent police officers with them, one a mother with two young children.

Never, never, never was Malcolm letting anything like that happen again. Never would he allow his family or loved ones to fall in harm’s way. Not in any way. Not in any form.

“Malcolm?” Kristin touched his hand.

He blew out a breath and faced her.
She
was not fragile. She was as strong a woman as he’d ever known. And who was he to desire to get close to her? Especially knowing all that he possibly could about her, when he didn’t even have the guts to tell her the worst about himself?

“Kristy, I failed her.”

“You were ten years old.”

“
I
was responsible. When I should have grabbed her hand, pulled her out of there and run away with her, I engaged them instead. I thought that by talking, by reasoning honestly, that it would stop them from following us. When it was clear that it wouldn’t, and it was too late to run, I punched one of them, but all it did was get me knocked out. And that was the worst thing that could have happened. Because that’s when they terrorized her. And because I was out cold...” He raked his hand through his hair.

“I couldn’t stop it from happening.” His voice broke. “Kristy, she was just a little girl....”

“Malcolm, I’m sorry.”

“I talk to her almost every day on the phone. Even now, I still do. You heard me that morning in your factory. But still, it doesn’t help her, and it doesn’t change anything...she’s broken, and she got that way on my watch. Now, she doesn’t go out. She hides away here. She paints her beautiful pictures and disengages from the world....”

He turned to her. “Have you been inside her studio yet?”