A Trap So Tender (5 page)

“I’m no fortune-teller.” Those dark eyes seemed to peer into
her soul, which shrank from their penetrating gaze. “I can only see what’s right
in front of me.”

Then he kissed her again, harder this time. Stars flashed
behind her eyelids—simple chemistry, nothing more, she reassured herself. Thick,
hot lust surged inside her. Again, just chemistry. And that was the only thing
making her fingers creep lower, toward the waistband of his pants, where she was
absolutely not going to grope the well-muscled backside she’d enjoyed such
impressive views of during their ride that morning.

He was deliberately seducing her. His lips trailed over her
cheek, leaving her skin hot and flushed. His fingers now skated up and down her
spine. His hips jutted toward her, and she could feel his arousal thick and hard
behind the civilized veneer of clothing.

A civilized veneer that was in real danger of being ripped
right off.

“Stop!” She squeaked the word as she managed to pull back from
the kiss.

“You don’t mean that.” His voice was low, throaty, his gaze
amused.

You’re right, I don’t.
“I’ve just
met you. I’m here as your prisoner—I mean, your guest—and things are moving too
fast.”

“My prisoner?” A dark brow rose slightly.

“Freudian slip.” She lifted her chin, which helped her see eye
to eye with him. Why did he have to be so tall? “But you have to admit that I
can’t easily escape.”

“So much the better.” His arms still held firm around her
waist.

“Is this how you treat all your guests?” Frustrated desire
snapped through her like stray current, making her edgy. She didn’t like the way
he could just pick her up and play with her as if she were a toy. And she
especially didn’t like the way she responded so instantly and totally.

“No. Only the pretty ones.”

“Then your reputation is well earned.”

He froze. She felt his hands still and his muscles grow hard.
Her own chest constricted as she realized that she’d revealed too much. She
wasn’t supposed to know anything about him. “What do you know of my
reputation?”

“I did ask around before volunteering to travel several
thousand miles to stay with a virtual stranger.” Good save. Of course that’s
what any sensible person would do.

“But apparently you came anyway.” His fierce gaze made her
stomach clench.

“I’m not afraid of a…rake.”

He laughed. “A rake? What is this, the eighteenth century?”

“I couldn’t think of a more polite word. Okay, how about a
playa?”

He grinned. “I’m not sure anyone’s called me that, either. And
I’m not the playboy that people make out. I never, ever date more than one woman
at a time.”

“So why haven’t you ever married?” She couldn’t resist
re-asking the bold question. It was the perfect moment to dig a little deeper
beneath James’s cool facade. And his tormenting arms were no longer wrapped
around her, so she could breathe again. “I know you said you haven’t met the
right woman, but I know there’s more to it than that. And since I’m apparently
already on your embarrassing list of statistics, you might as well tell me.”

He frowned. “I did meet the right woman, once.”

The words hung in the air and bounced off the bare walls. Then
he turned and strode for the door.

Fiona hurried after him, suddenly sure that what had happened
with this woman could be the key to James Drummond’s heart. Did she dump him
mercilessly? Run off with his best friend? Her heart beat faster as she rushed
along the corridor. James was heading deeper into the unused parts of the
castle, past more closed doors. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer. Maybe lost in his own thoughts.

“Who was she?” She didn’t want to miss her chance to ask about
his lost love. The right opportunity might never come up again. She already
couldn’t believe that he’d mentioned her, when he seemed so guarded about his
personal life.

The long hallway ended in a stone wall, with stone stairs going
up to the right and down to the left. James went up. “Her name was Catriona.” He
took the stairs two at a time.

Fiona climbed after him. “Sounds Scottish.”

“She was.” He reached the top of the flight of stairs and
disappeared out of sight.

“Was? Did she die?” She assumed she was dead to James, not
really deceased, so his answer caught her by surprise.

“She did. Seventeen years ago this weekend.”

“I’m so sorry.” Emotion slapped her hard. She’d been digging at
him, trying to extract information for her own purposes, and she’d hit upon a
raw vein of pain.

“Why? You didn’t kill her.”

He swung around and his face was dark. “I did.”

She swallowed. Were there ugly truths about James Drummond that
made his fearsome reputation as a businessman seem like child’s play? And she
was all alone in the deserted wing of a remote Scottish castle with him. She
hadn’t even told her friends she was coming. She was sure they’d think she was
crazy and try to talk her out of it, especially if she told them her underhanded
purpose in being James’s guest.

Her gut told her to trust him, though. In fact, it begged her
to throw her arms around him and offer some kind of compassion for what was
obviously a ­seventeen-year-old emotional burden he still carried with him.
“What happened?” She asked the question softly.

His brow had smoothed and his composure returned. “It was a car
accident.”

“Oh.” Relief swept through her that it was something so
prosaic. “And you were driving?”

“Yes.” He looked up. “How did you know?”

“I guessed. You feel guilty.”

“I am guilty. I should have avoided the accident.”

“Did it happen near here?” She realized she was hugging
herself.

“Just a few miles outside the village.” He shoved a hand
through his hair. She prayed he would tell her more so she didn’t have to ask
any more insensitive-sounding questions. “It was late at night and we were
driving back from a party. I was taking her to her family’s house in town.”

A local girl. That surprised her. For some reason she’d assumed
James would date only women from more predictably glamorous locales. “Had you
known each other long?”

“Our whole lives.” He looked up and inhaled sharply. “We were
both away at boarding school most of the time, of course, but on every holiday
we spent as much time together as we could. Her father was—is—the local doctor,
and he would drop her off here every morning on the way to begin his rounds so
we could spend the day riding or arguing about books.”

“Sounds like you were best friends.”

“Oh, we were, and as we grew into our teenage years we were
more than that.”

“She was your first love.”

“My only love.” He said it quite fast, and she wondered if he
was saying it for the first time. She shivered slightly. A few moments ago
they’d been kissing and holding each other, but now a gulf as wide as the castle
battlements had opened between them. “I did love her.” He was looking out an
opening in the stone wall. They stood on a sort of stone landing between floors,
and the window looked out onto a blanket of lush green fields, dotted with sheep
and ringed by dark, uncultivated hills.

“And that’s why you’ve never been able to love anyone
else?”

He didn’t answer right away, but she saw him frown. “I never
grew that close to anyone else.” He stared out the window. “But maybe I’m
finally ready to move on.”

A cool flush of shock froze her to the spot. Was he telling her
that he might be ready to “move on” with her, after seventeen years of pining,
even though they’d only just met?

Guilt stabbed her hard. She wasn’t here to mend his broken
heart, but to mend her father’s. She hadn’t given any thought to James’s
feelings at all, mostly because she’d assumed he didn’t have any. How could he
possibly think she might be “the one” he’d managed to avoid for so long?

Or maybe she was reading too much into the situation. He could
have brought her here just to entertain himself while he prepared his search for
the perfect lady of the manor. Probably someone tall and blond, with
aristocratic ancestry traceable back to the Bronze Age. Certainly not a petite,
Californian business geek with an evil scheme up her sleeve.

She had no idea what to say. The atmosphere had thickened as if
a storm was gathering, but the white sky outside was as mute as the castle
ghosts. “That’s great. It’s been a long time.” She cursed herself for sounding
so lame. And as if she might expect him to “move on” with her.

“So they tell me. Sometimes it feels like only yesterday.
Especially when I come back here.” He frowned and headed up the flight of
stairs. She followed him with relief that she could move and breathe again.

“That’s why you don’t like to come back here, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

So he’d avoided his ancestral home and its stunning natural
surroundings not because he thought the place was boring and remote, but because
it was haunted by memories and regrets that time hadn’t managed to erase. “I bet
she would have wanted you to move on.” She wasn’t even sure why she said it. It
seemed the kind of thing an elderly aunt might suggest, not a girl brought here
to distract him from his painful past.

He turned and frowned, then laughed. “How would you know?”

She felt insulted, as if he’d slapped her, which made her
protest quickly. “If she loved you, she’d want you to be happy.” Unless she was
selfish and heartless and wanted him to spend the rest of his life pining for
her, which was entirely possible, of course.

He was silent, climbing the stone stairs slowly. What floor
were they on? She felt as if they’d climbed enough stairs to be at the top of a
skyscraper by now. They reached another landing, and he turned a heavy iron
latch and opened an arched wooden door. She gasped as it opened to the outside
and light poured into the dim stairwell. James stepped outside and she followed
him onto a terrace, high above the surrounding countryside.

“You’re right, of course.” The wind carried his words away.
“She would have been disgusted by my behavior.”

“Why?”

“Letting innocent women think that I’m an ordinary man who
might make them happy.” He squinted at the bright horizon, brown crumpled peaks
against the stark white sky, with a carpet of lush green pasture beneath. “Only
to leave them as soon as they showed any sign of emotion.”

Fiona swallowed. He certainly wasn’t advertising his better
qualities to her. Which likely meant that he wasn’t too interested in impressing
her or having any kind of relationship beyond a quick kiss and grope. Why did
that make her gut twist in such an uncomfortable way? She shouldn’t care at all.
She wasn’t looking to fall madly in love with James and have him pledge his
undying adoration for her.

“So how do you feel different now?” She asked the probing
question, almost daring him to insult her more. She still didn’t fully
understand why he’d asked her here. She didn’t believe he’d brought her to find
the cup, as he didn’t seem to care too much about it one way or the other.
Besides, she was no seasoned treasure hunter—unless the treasure was consumer
dollars.

Instead of softening, his face hardened, cheekbones and proud
nose and chin forming an impressive silhouette against the bright sky. “It’s
time for me to choose a wife and produce an heir.”

Her already churning gut tightened. She straightened her
shoulders and took in a deep breath. He was obviously playing with her, and it
was downright rude to kiss her then tell her he was ready to marry someone else.
She lifted a brow. “Do you have anyone in mind?”

He looked right at her, and she was shocked to see his gray
eyes so dark with emotion. “I do.”

Five

F
iona stood openmouthed for what felt like
a full minute. Had James just intimated that
she
might be his future wife and the mother of the next Drummond heir? She was the
only woman there and, polite to a fault, James Drummond was hardly the type to
smooch her then discuss his plans to marry another woman. Maybe he was really
impressed with her riding!

No, she must be imagining things. All this unaccustomed fresh
air had fogged her mind. “I hope you do find love.” She had no idea what else to
say. She couldn’t ignore such a dramatic pronouncement. “It would be a shame for
this place to have no one to inherit it.”

“I know, it would get bought by American investors and turned
into a golf resort.” Mischief gleamed in his eyes and sent another spark of
attraction flashing through her.

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad?” she countered, one eyebrow
raised.

“Not if you like golf, I suppose.”

“This certainly is a million-dollar view.”

“I’d want a lot more than that for it.” He surveyed the
impressive landscape. You could see literally for miles in every direction. The
village lay about half a mile from the castle, but if there were other buildings
out there they were well hidden and invisible.

“I don’t blame you. It’s like owning your own country, except
without the trouble of citizens.”

“Or the bother of modern conveniences like shops.”

“Bah, who needs ’em. I order everything online anyway. I’d be
quite happy in my own little kingdom.” Her statement was bold, considering where
this conversation had already gone. Rash, even, but it seemed to lighten the
serious mood. If he was teasing her with the prospect of marriage, then why not
call his bluff?

“Really?” He turned to face her, leaning against the castle
battlements. “You don’t think you’d get bored, or lonely?”

“Nope.” She lifted her chin. “I’m pretty sure I could keep
myself entertained 24/7. And there’s plenty of room for a helipad here if I
needed to ensure a quick getaway.”

He laughed. “There’s one here already. My father had it built
in the 1970s. It fell into disuse after his helicopter disappeared at sea.”

“I’m so sorry. That must have been terrible.”

“The worst part was that I never really got to know him. He was
away a lot when I was little, then I went off to boarding school around the time
I was old enough to hold a conversation. I suppose I would have missed him more
if we’d been close, but it is frustrating that I never had the chance.”

I know how you feel.
In fact, she
felt it literally in her gut. How sad that he should have missed out on getting
to know his father as she did, even though it was for different reasons. At
least she still had the chance to make things right.

“Where does your mother live?” she asked with some trepidation,
hoping she hadn’t been killed in the same crash.

“She lives in Zurich. My mother rarely even came here when I
was growing up, since she can’t stand the place and hasn’t set foot in it for
decades. I suspect she’d believe in the supposed curse. The whole estate gave
her the chills. She always said she couldn’t bear to be so far from
civilization.”

Fiona frowned. “I don’t feel that at all. I think it’s
peaceful.”

“It is peaceful in a lonely way, because there’s no one to
disturb the peace.”

“Maybe that’s why you brought me here?”

“Quite possibly.” A wry smile pulled at his lips again. “And so
far it’s working very well.”

He was about one foot of brisk Scottish air away from her, but
she could swear that heat rolled between them. The wind, and their ride, had
brought color to his cheeks and a sparkle to his eyes that made them seem far
less cold. Excitement prickled inside her. Would they kiss again? Where would
this lead?

She’d never been in such a strange situation before. Maybe this
is what happened to people who sold their business and became wealthy overnight.
Men certainly didn’t sweep her off to their foreign estates when she was a
slightly geeky product designer and wannabe entrepreneur. In fact, she’d gone
for long periods without a single date. If she hadn’t done independent research
into James’s finances for her own nefarious purposes, she’d be tempted to assume
that he wanted to marry her for money to fix up his money pit of an estate.
Since she knew better, she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what he was
up to.

An electronic tone interrupted her thoughts, and James reached
into his pocket. When he pulled out a phone, she realized this was the first
time she’d seen him take a call since they’d been together. She didn’t even
realize he had one on him.

She turned away to give him some privacy, though her ears
remained pricked. Who was privileged enough to phone James away from the office?
He must have someone intercepting his calls somewhere, as a man with his fingers
in so many pies must get a lot of phone calls. Who was his assistant? She should
really know this stuff by now, but it was hard to find information about James
Drummond that wasn’t public knowledge.

His conversation was a low murmur, but he was definitely
talking to a man. She could tell from the gruff, rather formal manner. After a
few minutes, he told the caller that he looked forward to seeing him, and then
hung up.

“I didn’t know you carried a phone.”

“I wish I didn’t, but the world expects you to be available at
all hours these days. My assistant screens all my calls. And this was a man I
have an interesting project in the works with.”

“In Singapore?” Her stomach started fluttering. Was this the
project that had required him to grab her dad’s business?

“Yes, among other places.”

“Let me guess, a chain of hotels?” She wanted to know more
without actually asking.

“Not exactly.” His face was a smooth granite mask, as usual,
and she could tell that was all the information she would get. Would James
Drummond ever kiss and tell? There was really only one way to find out.

“I’m afraid I have to go sit in front of a computer for a
while. Some figures to go over. Do feel free to explore the place.”

They walked down the stairs and back toward the inhabited part
of the castle. James was obviously preoccupied, and he wasn’t the type to fill
the air with noise just to be polite. Her brain was busy, too, wondering exactly
what would happen after dinner that night. She no longer had the excuse of being
exhausted from their flight, and James had already put some pretty impressive
moves on her.

Not that she’d resisted too hard.

Back in her room, she phoned her best friend, Crystal, in San
Diego.

“What do you mean you’re in Scotland?”

“It all happened so fast I didn’t have time to fill you
in.”

“I’ve wanted to go there for years. I can’t believe you went
without me.”

“It wasn’t a planned thing. James invited me and I couldn’t
think of a good way to say no.”

“James? Not James from chem class.”

She laughed, remembering the short kid with the acne and the
calculator in his hip pocket. “Not even close. This one’s a Scottish laird.”

“Holy guacamole, you’re going to be a duchess.”

“I think duchesses are English.”

“Well, whatever they have in Scotland, then. A lairdess.”

“I am not. I only just met him and there’s absolutely nothing
going on between us.” She froze when she realized she’d lied to her best friend
since third grade. “Okay, so we kissed once. Or twice. But other than that it’s
kind of a business thing.”

“A business thing with kisses? Intriguing. And not your style
at all. Didn’t you once refuse to kiss Danny Fibonacci because you thought he
wanted to steal your lemonade stand corner?”

“Since he’s recently been accused of insider trading, I think I
was right on the money.”

Crystal laughed. “What kind of business are you doing?”

“Looking for an old cup. Or a piece of one.” She frowned.
Sometimes it was hard to keep her mind on that part of this whole adventure. She
had to remember that was supposedly the real reason she’d come to Scotland with
a virtual stranger. “It’s a family heirloom that went missing three hundred
years ago.”

“Sounds like a really lame excuse for him to seduce you into
his lair.”

“Hey! I have my own reasons for being here.”

“Let me guess, there’s three of them—tall, dark and
handsome.”

She glanced around the room, hoping there wasn’t a hidden
camera somewhere, or a bug. “Not in the least. Well, he is. But I’m here because
he managed to swindle my father’s factory away from him and I’m trying to figure
out a way to get it back.”

She felt relieved to get her skullduggery off her chest.
Crystal did not offer reassuring encouragement, however. In fact, there was a
long silence at the other end of the line. “How are things going with your dad?”
Her voice sounded…wary.

“Great. He’s pretty upset about losing his business, but all I
have to do is figure out why James wanted it so badly, then I can work out how
to get it back.”

“James, huh? Have you tried buying it back?”

“He said no when I had a Realtor ask him. But if I get to know
him I might find a better strategy.”

“What if he still says no?”

She bit her lip. She hadn’t really thought how she might
proceed if he downright refused to part with the factory. She suspected a
businessman like James would always have his price. “I’ll find a way. I have a
lot of money.”

“This situation does not sound good. How do you know your dad
would even appreciate what you’re doing? You barely know him.”

Crystal’s comment stung like a slap. “I’ve been spending a lot
of time with him.”

“He could have come and visited you in California when you were
a kid. But he chose not to.”

“It’s complicated.” Every year she’d hoped and prayed for a
visit and imagined it in her mind. She begged her mom to take her to Singapore,
but it was too expensive. Every year there had been excuses. She knew her mom
and dad had had a very bitter divorce, and she suspected her mom just wanted to
forget he ever existed.

No more. Now she could finally share her birthday with her dad,
or phone him just to say hi the way she’d always dreamed.

“I think it’s great that you’re trying to reach out to your
dad, and I know you mean well, Fi, but I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I can take care of myself, thank you.” She wished she hadn’t
called Crystal in the first place. “In the meantime, I’m having an interesting
vacation in Scotland.”

“It certainly sounds that way. I can’t wait to hear more juicy
details as they occur.”

* * *

Since she now knew that dinner
was an elegant affair served by waitstaff in the magnificent oak-paneled dining
room, she donned a black knee-length dress and put on a pair of pearl
earrings—smart, but not too over the top. Thank goodness for the little black
dress.

Anticipation flickered in her nerves and muscles as she applied
lipstick and eyeliner. Two kisses already meant that a third was a virtual
certainty. While a casual observer might think this could make it easier to ask
him to sell her the factory, she couldn’t help thinking that it made the
situation way more complicated and awkward. Especially since he had no idea
she’d ever even heard of the factory.

A knock on the door made her suck in a breath. “Come in.”

The door swung open. “Dinner’s ready.” James stood in the
doorway, elegant as usual in a dark jacket and pants, with a crisp pale shirt.
How odd that they were both dressed up to eat dinner at home with no guests.
This truly was a different world.

“You look beautiful.” His slow, steady gaze swept from her head
to her black Manolo slingbacks.

“Thanks. You’re cute, too.” She resisted the urge to giggle.
This felt like a date, with great expectations. When she was with James, it
seemed natural to flirt a little with him. Even the kissing didn’t feel strange.
Not until later when she was alone and trying to get her plans back on
track.

Tonight’s mission: let him know she wanted a piece of property
in Singapore in the exact location where the factory was. “I’m almost ready.”
She pretended to touch up her lipstick. She didn’t want to seem as if she was
jumping to attention too quickly. Better to act casual and nonchalant, as if
nothing really mattered much.

“Any time you take is obviously well spent.” The appreciation
in his eyes heated her skin from across the room. It made her feel beautiful.
Which was weird because she wasn’t used to feeling more than, well, above
average. She tried to look smart, and she was blessed with a trim body, but her
looks weren’t really…­va-va-voom. Men didn’t usually turn their heads or
spill their drinks when she entered a room.

But James made her feel as if that could happen.

“Do you always eat sitting at that big table with people
waiting on you hand and foot?”

“When I’m here, yes.”

“Don’t you ever want to eat in front of the TV or something?”
She walked past him out of the room. Heat rose through her as their bodies drew
close.

“I might, but I don’t. Tradition. And the staff here have
little enough to do. I don’t want them all feeling neglected and handing in
their notice.”

“Now you’re thinking like a businessman.”

“This estate is more of a business than a home to me.”

He walked a step behind her, and she shivered slightly when she
felt his hand settle into the small of her back. “That’s sad when you think of
how many people must have lived—and died—here. Each room and piece of furniture
has so much history.”

“Some of the many reasons why I like my new-build condo in
Singapore.” He caught up with her and she saw his wicked smile. “I can relax
without being surrounded by people—living or dead—with expectations.”