Laird of the Highlands: International Billionaires IX: The Scots (28 page)

“
Y
e went
to Pictloch and had no problems. In fact, ye had a good time, if I’m remembering correctly.” Lorne’s slate-blue gaze glared at her from across the kitchen table. “So I’m not understanding why ye can’t go to Edinburgh with me.”

As usual, her lover was nothing if not logical. Ceri supposed it made complete sense to him that if she could conquer her fears about Pictloch, she should have no qualms about tackling the anonymity of a city.

He’d been right about Pictloch.

So, naturally, he’d be right about going to Edinburgh.

Right?

Not right.

Her fears weren’t centered on facing gossip. She didn’t like dealing with the slurs and slights, but she’d grown a tough hide as a young woman, and if she had to face them, she could. No, her fears lay deeper, in a cold knot of pain she didn’t want to bring out and examine. The fear of gossip had been another shield she’d used to try and distract Lorne from digging further. She’d known that even as she’d used her confession. But her lover wasn’t stopping, he kept coming.

The realization made her angry.

“Stop pushing,” she snarled, before standing and stomping down the hall.

Her dogged lover followed her, the slap of his bare feet on the stone floor telling her so.

Marching into their bedroom, she tried to ignore his looming presence in the doorway.

“All right,” he said gently. “There appears to be some other things we need to talk about.”

“No, there’s not.” She flung herself on the bed and peered at the ceiling. “I worked the entire day and I’m tired, that’s all.”

For the last three days, since Elis had left for London, she’d worked like a demon. Lorne had made a few noises about the number of tours, but she’d booked them, and she couldn’t get out of them.

She still needed the money.

The realization made her worry escalate.

There’d been moments in the last few days, moments when she’d glance at him and see something on his face that made her heart blaze with joy. She’d half-hoped, half-wished that after her brother left, Lorne would say something. Something about being in love with her or changing his mind about the court case or understanding that things had changed at Castle Ross forever.

He’d liked her plans for her business.

He’d said they were brilliant.

But those plans meant changes to his home that would be permanent. There’d be a shop on the grounds and a restaurant revolving around his heritage. There’d be more strangers tromping in his garden. There’d be guided tours describing the natural plants on his lands—far more tours than Will had ever envisioned. His home would never be the same. Never be like the one he’d grown up in.

His home. His lands. His heritage.

Lying on the bed, the bed they’d shared, made the conflict inside her all the more real.

So real. So hard.

Ceri’s chest tightened in an attempt to stop the tears. The tears she hadn’t shed yet. The ones she’d kept inside herself as the knowledge seeped into her soul.

This was Lorne Ross’s home.

More than hers. More than Elis’.

She could pretend falling in love with this man hadn’t changed her outlook on who should get what, and who should win this battle simmering below their lovemaking. She’d pretended her entire life. But with this man, this love, this situation…deep inside, she already knew. She wouldn’t be able to pretend. Not when it came down to the final decision.

Her only sorry hope was one she’d never thought to pin herself on.

Did he love her? Did he share the same shift of objectives she’d experienced?

Every day that passed, she waited. Hoped. Every day her lover didn’t say anything about their future, and she’d been too afraid to bring it up.

Afraid. Of so many things.

“I’m thinking we might want to revisit your workload, Ceri.”

A clutch of fear and horror and hope made her hands fist at her sides. Because she couldn’t decipher if he meant to ease her life, or ease her out of this life for good. “No. We don’t need to talk about that again.”

A soft sigh whispered across the room. “Elis told me you’d be stubborn about the situation.”

They’d said goodbye to an excited Elis last week. Her brother had been as elated as she’d ever seen him. He’d even bounded over to her, to give her a big hug. A rare occurrence nowadays.

“Thanks, Sis.” He’d also given her a grin. “Thanks for agreeing to this change with the internship.”

“I want you to pay attention to what Doc says.” She leaned back in his arms, staring at him. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Elis grimaced and pulled away from her.

“Ceri.” Lorne’s voice had come from behind them, gentle and quiet. “Your brother isn’t stupid.”

It hadn’t been exactly a rebuff, the kind he’d been giving her brother every time he stepped out of line, but it had been close.

Surprised, she turned to stare at him. He stood aside from them, as usual, leaning on the cottage’s open front door. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know ye didn’t.” His expression was contemplative, unaggressive. Yet she sensed the implacability behind it. “Sometimes, though, ye go too far.”

“Now wait a minute.” A confused well of emotion swished inside her. She’d been in charge of her brother for so long—the only person who worried, the only person who cared—she didn’t know quite what to do with this person confronting her. A man who’d strode into their lives and came right into the middle of their relationship. “I need to take care of Elis.”

Her brother snorted in familiar disgust.

“I understand.” Lorne eased off his lounge on the doorway and walked to stand in front of her. “But, Ceri—”

“What?” Hurt at Elis’ disgusted look, and bewildered at how fast everything was changing, she glared at her lover.

“I’m thinking,” he grabbed her hand before she could move away, “the lad needs to do some taking care of himself.”

She frowned at him, a roiling sense of displacement making her angry and sad at the same time.

Those slate-blue eyes never wavered. “Remember when we went to town two nights ago.”

“Yes,” she snapped.

Yet the memories did soothe her in a slight sort of way. The banter between Elis and her as they’d ambled down the main street together, Lorne walking behind them in quiet companionship. The welcome they’d received when they’d entered the Rose and Thistle. Smiles and waves, no gossip at all. The relief she’d felt, the happiness at being with her two men.

“Then you’ll be remembering when Chief Inspector Bruce showed up.”

The one lone ripple of ugliness to the visit. The memory shot through her, as well as the realization of where Lorne was taking her.

The Chief had been his usual nasty self. He’d spotted them from the pub’s doorway and immediately sauntered over to say hello. Within a few minutes, he’d ventured into his usual sly way of putting her down.

And her brother had put a stop to it.

Just like that.

Elis had eyed the man, gave him a ferocious scowl, and told him to shut up and leave.

Surprisingly, the man had left.

Ceri had gaped at her brother with astonishment. Lorne had leaned across the table and patted him on the back. Her brother, the little baby she’d been more mother to than sister, the little boy who’d trailed behind her as she cleaned their small flat…that child wasn’t a child anymore.

This is what Lorne was pointing out.

He was right.

“Okay,” she admitted in a puff of acceptance. “I see what you’re saying.”

Elis gave his defender a big grin. “Thanks.”

“Come on, then, lad.” Grabbing her car keys, her lover had strode to the door. “Let’s get ye to the train station.”

He’d offered to drive Elis because she’d had three tours scheduled for the day. Strangely, he’d insisted on taking her car, not the Range Rover still standing in the castle’s parking lot. As far as she could remember, he hadn’t used the thing since he’d come back from Edinburgh weeks ago, the night he’d moved into the cottage.

“Is there something wrong with your car?” she’d quizzed.

“Not something wrong, exactly.” His gaze had flashed to hers and for the first time, she’d swear he was hiding something from her. “And since it’s your brother we’re talking about here, your car should be the one getting him to the station.”

She’d agreed, giving him a puzzled look he didn’t meet.

He sighed again, from the other side of their bedroom, bringing her back to the present. “I did something ye probably won’t like.”

Turning her head on the pillow, she squinted at him. “What?”

“I talked to Rose when we were in Pictloch the other night.”

She frowned, trying to think of what these two could possibly need to discuss. “What about?”

“Did ye know your friend enjoys local history?” His stance still spoke of calm and ease, yet she sensed the growing tension underneath.

“No.” She thought about admitting she hadn’t allowed Rose to be close enough to call her a friend. But Lorne might question that, too, and she had enough of his poking around to deal with.

“Well, she does.” He shifted on his feet as if preparing for battle. “I asked if she had enough staff to cover for her at the pub.”

“Why do you care about that?” she said, growing more and more confused.

“She said she did. And she welcomed the challenge I gave her.”

“What challenge?”

“To do some tours for ye.” Keeping his gaze steady, he met her outraged look. “So ye could take some time away.”

“I don’t want to take time away or go anywhere,” she cried. “Why can’t you accept this?”

“I’m not saying we should go to Edinburgh tonight.” He moved into the room and leaned on the wall by her nightstand. “I’m proposing we travel the day after next, and stay in my new place for a few days.”

“I can’t. I’ve got tours scheduled.” Closing her eyes, she willed him to let this go.

“Like I said, Rose is willing to cover for ye.”

He clearly wasn’t getting the message.

Ever since she’d become a pawn in Gareth’s life, there’d been no going back. Back to the young girl who played with makeup and dreamed of being a princess. Back to the girl who liked to try on clothes and be pretty. Because being pretty had brought her nothing except devastation. Yes, it had saved her mam and her brother, her prettiness. But it had left her a shell of the girl she’d been. The girl she’d never be able to reclaim even if Lorne Ross threw all his billions away in the effort.

“No. I’m not going.”

He went silent as he often did when he was puzzling over something. The love she barely acknowledged for him swam in and around the irritation she held up as a shield.

Opening her eyes, she glared at him. “Why can’t you just let this go?”

“Ceri.” He padded to the bed, his expression filled with a mix of tenderness and exasperation. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is.” Her throat hurt, a ball of tense fear and fury lodged tight inside. “It’s a big deal to me.”

“All right.” Lorne eased on the bed by her side and took one of her hands. “Then tell me why.”

“I don’t like big towns or big cities.” It was the best she could give him.

“And why is that?” His long fingers played with hers, a game they’d developed during the last few weeks.

His tenderness and playfulness couldn’t conquer her past. She was sure of it. “I just don’t.”

Sighing, he lay next to her. “Ye know I always tell ye the truth, eh?”

Even though she was angry at him, she couldn’t help but nuzzle into the wedge between his shoulder and neck. She didn’t allow herself to kiss him. Still, she did give herself the pleasure of breathing in his scent.

“Don’t I, Ceri?”

It was her time to sigh. At him, at his insistence, at his accuracy. “Yes, you do.”

“Ye said that with a bit of disgust, now didn’t ye?” Swinging his arm around her, he tugged her closer. “At least ye admitted it, though.”

She hid her face from him, nestling in and yet, pulling farther away. From what he was going to say and what he wanted her to confront.

“So here’s the thing.” With a relentlessness that was typical of him, he continued, “Doc noticed it before me, but I’ve caught up.”

Curiosity, unwanted and undeniable, made her rear her head to stare at him. “Noticed what?”

His gaze was the softest and tenderest she’d ever seen. The slate blue held not a hint of hardness, not a trace of chill. “That you’re hiding,
a ghràidh
.”

The accusation hit her like a slap. But her attention was caught by the Gaelic at the end. Her mam had never used the old language, and Will had rarely spoken his native tongue. He’d never said this particular phrase, yet she could tell by the way the words rolled from his son’s mouth, what the language was. “What did you call me in Gaelic?”

Amusement lit in Lorne’s eyes. “And here I thought you’d be all pissed off at what I just told ye about yourself.”

“We’ll get to that in a minute.” Fisting her hand on his chest, she put her chin on it and pinned him with a pointed look. Something about the phrase he used zinged inside, leaving a trail of hope in its wake. “So what did it mean?”

“Ye could always go and use my computer and look it up.” His mouth edged into a smile.

“You know I can’t do that because you always lock the thing down whenever you leave.”

His smile faded at her tone. “I don’t lock ye out, Ceri. It’s merely a habit.”

The practice had bothered her, truth to tell. “Okay, I believe you.”

The smile returned making his expression go radiant.

She wanted him so much. All of him. His oddness and his logic. His lanky arms and legs. The beauty of his red hair and blue eyes. More than anything, though, she wanted his heart.

His love.

“Tell me what it meant,” she said again.

“Well.” His gaze went straight to calculation as his hand softly rubbed up and down her arm. “How about we make a deal.”

“Lorne.”

He chuckled at her disgusted tone. “Come on. Ye have to trust me, here.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to give in and explain to her what he’d called her, she returned to his accusation. Her pride welled inside, hurt and pricked at the same time. “I don’t hide.”