Bad Boys In Kilts (15 page)

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Authors: Donna Kauffman

BOOK: Bad Boys In Kilts
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She turned then, pushed open the door to the square. “I’ll hear from you soon, then,” she said, all professional once again.
Reese couldn’t see who might be milling about beyond the door, but he was quite certain he had an avid audience of one behind him. And he knew it was best, for now anyway, until the two of them had time to sort things out in private, to keep things just that: private.
So what impulse drove him to pause beside her, just before stepping outside, he couldn’t have said. Not exactly. But pause he did, tilting his head just a fraction so as to keep his face averted from curious eyes, and lowering his voice so only she could hear him. “Were it not for potential spectators, I would be finding myself hard-pressed to allow even the tiniest of spaces to remain between us. For at least a lingering moment or two.”
She stilled completely. He saw the pulse in her neck jump, and it made him want to press his mouth there.
“I’ve hungered for many things, most all of them having to do with keeping the Chisholm holdings afloat. I’ve rarely allowed myself to hunger for more personal wants.” He shifted enough to snag her gaze and held it. “I believe that is about to change.”
Chapter 6
“
M
eet me tonight at half past nine for your private tour. The employees entrance, around the back. Nothing will be off limits for your inspection. Questions and curiosity encouraged.”
Daisy punched the button on the answering machine, but didn’t play Reese’s message again. Tempted though she was. His voice did things to her. “Everything about the man does things to me.”
Nothing will be off limits ...
She rubbed her arms, but not because she was cold. No, and her nipples weren’t hard for that reason, either. Damn. Who would have thought proper Reese Chisholm could have such an improper streak in him? She grinned, unable to stop herself. Lucky her for discovering it. At least, she hoped she was going to get lucky. That had to be what he meant. Why else the after-hours tour?
She wished she’d gotten to the phone in time, talked to him herself. She punched the button and listened to the message again. It made her shiver in anticipation. Again.
It figured. She’d been sitting at her desk for the past four hours and the one time she got up to use the bathroom, the phone rang. She hadn’t been expecting him to call so soon ... certainly not tonight. So she’d been surprised when she’d played the message back and his voice had echoed through the small room. The small room where just hours before he’d kissed her speechless.
She sat down in front of her desk, but nothing on the monitor registered in her brain. Her thoughts were far and away from getting any actual work done. Which had been the case since she’d finally hustled Doris out the door. The older woman had managed to keep Daisy standing around talking for close to an hour after Reese’s departure. Daisy hadn’t really minded. One of the things she loved about Glenbuie was the slower pace and the family feel the tight-knit community had, and had begun extending to her as well. It really was exactly what she’d wanted, what she’d hoped for. No matter how gung ho she was about her business plans, Glenbuie moved along at its own pace, which was stubbornly slow. A pace she was getting used to ... and finally beginning to enjoy.
Sure, the idea that everybody knew everybody’s business took some getting used to, but it wasn’t much different from working for a large corporation, really. Only instead of having her business conduct examined and analyzed, it was her personal life on display. Which hadn’t been much of a concern, seeing as she hadn’t had much of one.
Until today.
Her nipples tightened to the point of pain, and she pressed her thighs together as she thought about what she’d potentially started today. Or what she’d potentially let Reese start. All those lectures she’d given herself about building a personal life separate from her professional one were falling on deaf ears. Ears that only heard the echo of that guttural groan Reese had made when he’d taken his kiss deeper. Dear God.
Thankfully, Doris—one of the nosier gossips—hadn’t really seemed to pick up on anything happening between her and Reese. She’d asked a question or two about the publicity business Daisy was hoping to launch, but steered their chat in other directions almost immediately. Daisy smiled, knowing quite well that Doris had been afraid Daisy would try to sell her and Fergus on her services.
If she only knew
, Daisy thought,
she could have relaxed.
Daisy hadn’t lived here long, but even she knew better than to put the Grangers’ butcher’s shop on her list of potential clients. Even if every shop on the square hired her in some capacity, she doubted Fergus would follow suit. Still, she’d happily followed Doris’s conversational lead.
She’d needed something, anything, to distance herself a little from what had taken place today. All of it, from the spilled ale, to the discussion up in her apartment, to the toe-curling kiss he’d delivered right before Doris’s untimely arrival. She needed perspective, needed to put some distance between her still-raging libido and rational, common sense.
Daisy had no idea what to do about Reese Chisholm. Well, that was a lie. She knew exactly what she wanted to do about him, and that was drag him to the nearest available bed, strip them both naked, and get him to put his hands and mouth on her again. On every part of her, in fact. Lingering in certain places perhaps longer than others. For a man who professed to be all business with no social skills ... well, he had skills, all right. In spades.
With a sigh, she shut down her computer. She’d spent the past few hours pretending to work on some details and ideas about the other businesses in the area she’d targeted after, she hoped, getting the distillery account. But she finally admitted defeat. The more she tried to shut Reese out of her mind, the more he invaded it. And now there was his invitation for tonight.
How would the village respond to an outsider pairing up with one of their own, especially when that one was Reese Chisholm? And if it ended up a fling, nothing more, then what? If she’d thought it was awkward when the man in question was a corporate peer, how much worse would it be when she had to live in what amounted to a fishbowl with the guy? And with his brother running the pub right across the square? She’d come here thinking she’d settle in, find her balance with the shop first—business was the one thing she understood—and let the rest of her life sort of figure itself out. So what did she go right out and do? Get the hots for the one guy she’d targeted to do business with. Who also happened to be the only guy in town who could be considered a high-octane executive. The Glenbuie version, anyway.
Relaxation was as foreign to Reese as it was to her. For all the reasons she’d come here, she’d be crazy to give in to lust the first time it tempted her. Most especially with him. To even consider going to the distillery tonight was the beginning of the end of her carefully rationalized life plan. She had to think beyond her empty bed upstairs, and how badly she wanted him in it, to the bigger picture. A far better idea would be for her to put her physical reaction to him in its proper perspective, then call his office number and leave a message saying she couldn’t make it and would prefer something during the day. Reese was a sharp man—he’d get the message within the message. And if her swift turnaround on the subject of them continuing any personal liaison cost her the account, then so be it. From what she knew of the man, she doubted that he would be the punitive sort. He practically wore his integrity on his sleeve.
So, she thought, emitting a long, dejected sigh. It was decided, then. She’d end this before it went any further, return their liaison to a business-only proposition, and go back to her initial new-girl-in-town game plan. So what if he made her pulse jump like no one else ever had? So what if he looked at her in a way no one else ever had? So what if he had that rare combination of intensity and reserve she’d never seen before? She thought she’d been with enigmatic, charismatic men in her past, right?
But not one held a candle to Reese’s controlled intensity, her little voice whispered insidiously. Not one had his innate ability to focus. Especially when that focus was on her.
Just thinking about that did make her squirm a little in her chair.
No
. She mustn’t give in to that ... that need to shiver whenever she so much as thought about him. In time that would pass. It was hormones talking. She’d been here alone for six months. It was natural she’d feel a bit needy. So her reaction to an alpha male like Reese was perfectly understandable. Hell, she’d be worried about herself if she hadn’t reacted that way. Right?
She slumped down in her seat, dejected. The truth was, she could counsel herself until she was blue in the face. None of that changed the fact that, even though nipping this in the bud was the absolute smartest thing she could do, she wanted to go tonight. Badly. Wanted to see where this ... whatever it was that had flared up between them, would lead. And the hell with the collective village opinion of her, the hell with keeping business separate from her private life, and the hell with not being able to hold steady to her hard-made decisions at the very first opportunity to fall right back into her old ways.
The real question was, which would she regret more? Falling off her self-imposed wagon? Or not finding out what she might have with Reese? No matter how short-lived?
Or incredibly hot.
“God, I hate this,” she murmured. Before she could second-guess herself any further, or talk herself out of it—and into more trouble—she jerked up the phone and punched in the office number for the distillery.
After getting the canned recording, and honestly, she was going to have to mention that to him—he really could spruce that up a bit—she waited impatiently for the beep. Her heart was pounding and her palms were a bit sweaty. What was she doing, turning down a man like Reese? And potentially her biggest future account along with it? Despite knowing he wouldn’t hold it against her, he wasn’t exactly gung ho on the idea in the first place. Integrity or not, this could easily be the deciding factor, and she could hardly blame him if it were. Then the beep echoed in her ear and she scrambled to sound cool and professional with her message.
“Hello, this is Daisy MacDonnell. With regret, I can’t meet with you at the requested time. Please contact me so we can set up a time most suitable to both of our schedules. Daytime would work best for me. Thank you.”
She hung up, then immediately slumped over and covered her face with her hands. “You are such a moron.” But, she hoped, this time a smarter moron. She wondered how Reese would take the message. She hoped he didn’t think she was being coy, or playing some hard-to-get head game. She felt bad enough just jerking him around this much. It hadn’t been intentional, though, which she’d make sure he understood when they did talk. Showing up tonight would have been essentially tacitly agreeing to continue to explore what they’d started today. Hopefully he’d make things easier and realize she’d had second thoughts and decided to keep things businesslike between them.
Out of habit, she turned back to her computer and was reaching to flip it back on again when she caught herself. It was late, well past any normal working hours. And there was absolutely nothing that required her immediate attention this evening. Talk about falling back into old patterns.
So she resolutely got up, flipped off the lights, and headed upstairs. To do what, she had absolutely no idea. She had Maude’s ancient black-and-white television, with its hideous reception. A decent radio, but little patience to keep skimming for something decent to listen to. She had her own stereo and music, which had provided an almost constant soundtrack for her in the early weeks when she’d felt a little homesick in a strange, new world. She’d long since grown tired of them, but had been so busy familiarizing herself with the business and making her future plans that she hadn’t gotten around to expanding her CD collection just yet.
There was always Hagg’s, which had been her destination often as not when she was looking for something to do in the evenings. But after her disastrous late lunch there earlier today, she thought it best to steer clear for a little while. She climbed the stairs, thinking she could be having a social life right now if she’d taken Reese up on his offer to mix a little pleasure with their business. But no ... And there would be no second-guessing now—she’d already cancelled on him.
“You really are a moron.” But it had been the right thing to do. She knew that. Trudging up the stairs, however, she was having a hard time rousing any excitement for the evening ahead. She could kill some time folding the pile of laundry awaiting her. Then maybe she’d really get wild and read one of the murder mysteries in Maude’s extensive collection. One thing she wouldn’t do was give in to the urge to go back down to her office and work, so she’d feel productive. This was off-hours. She didn’t need to produce anything. Hell, she could even flaunt convention and leave her laundry unfolded for another whole day if she wanted to. She could waste the entire remainder of her evening lazing around doing absolutely nothing. And learn to like it, dammit. She smiled a little at that as she let herself into her flat.
She flipped on the lamp by Maude’s knitting chair and glanced down at the basket of yarn that was still tucked beside it. Maybe she should take up knitting. It would teach her patience and give her a much-needed hobby at the same time. She reached down, lifted out a soft spool of blue yarn, and rubbed it between her fingers. She glanced over at the ormolu clock on the mantel and saw it was closing in on nine-thirty. Yep, a whole evening ahead with nothing to do but sit back and relax and just enjoy the hell out of her brand new personal life.
Who was she kidding?
“Yeah, well, at least you gave it a try,” she murmured, then tossed the yarn back in the basket, turned, and walked straight out of her flat, not even bothering to flip off the light.
Ten minutes later she was right where she really wanted to be, and life plans be damned. She stood in front of the employee entrance to Glenbuie Distillery, praying Reese hadn’t picked up his phone messages yet.
Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, then lifted her hand and rapped on the steel door. In addition to the old Renault she’d recently bought, there was one other car and two company trucks parked in the rear lot. Hopefully one of them belonged to Reese. She waited what seemed like an eternity, and had just about decided she’d blown the whole deal when the door cracked open.
It was darker inside than out, so Reese was totally cast in shadow, little more than a disembodied voice. “Change your mind?”

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