Page 12 of Wild Scottish Beauty

“Willow, Ramsay is?—”

“I don’t need you reporting back to my brother,” Willow said, once again interrupting Sophie. She put a hand on her hip and pushed her lower lip out in a pout.

I wanted to bite it.

“Is there something you plan to be doing here that requires me to report to your brother?” I raised an eyebrow at her. Turns out, Willow must have grown up into one of those prickly women annoyed by anything and everyone. Which was the last thing I needed in my life.

“Would it matter? It’s my business. Not my brother’s.”

“Why don’t we get you settled?” Sophie said as I tried to figure out what Willow was hiding from me.

“You’re staying here then? In one of the flats? Are you renting them out now? Holiday rentals?” I asked Sophie as I heaved Willow’s two bags easily from the boot and started toward the castle, forcing Willow to keep up with me.

“No, it’s just that?—”

“Oh my God!” Willow shouted and I almost dropped her bags at her shout. Turning, I caught her staring in awe at the castle. “This place is incredible. And do the dogs live here? Please tell me they live here.”

“They live here.” Lachlan stepped forward, his handoutstretched. “I’m Lachlan, and welcome to MacAlpine Castle.”

“Hi, Lachlan. It’s so great to meet you. This place is just…words fail me. Wow.”

Lachlan smiled. He loved when people delighted in his castle.

Not wanting to provoke Willow, because she was certainly a lot sweeter in her greeting of Lachlan, I kept my mouth shut while she cooed over the dogs, exclaimed over the castle, and chattered with Sophie like they were best friends. I’d missed a step somewhere, that was for certain. Once I’d dropped her bags at the flat she must be renting, I stepped back into the hallway while Sophie walked farther into the apartment with Willow.

“I’ll just…catch you later?” I interrupted, feeling awkward and uncertain of my role here. I mean, technically, Willow was a friend, right? And if that was the case, would it be out of reason to invite her to the pub for a drink later? Just to catch up. I hadn’t spoken to Miles in a few months, so to see his sister out of the blue was surprising, to say the least. But her words…“I don’t need you reporting back to my brother.It’s my business. Not my brother’s.”What was with that? I opened my mouth to speak, but Willow just fluttered her fingers at me in a little wave.

“Bye, Ramsay. Tell Miles I’m fine.”

At that, I arched a brow, opening my mouth to retort, but then thought better of it. It wouldn’t do for me to be hulking over this woman as she settled into her bedroom. Best for me to head back downstairs and gather information from Lachlan.

And I would definitely be on the phone to Miles later.

CHAPTER FIVE

Willow

Iexcused myself from speaking with Sophie by professing a need for the bathroom, promising to meet her downstairs shortly. It might have been a touch rude, since she’d been in the middle of showing me this gorgeous castle apartment that was apparently my new home, but I needed a moment to collect myself.

I was fuming.

How. Dare. He.

How had my brother managed to weasel his way into my plans? Now I couldn’t help wondering if this incredible job opportunity had somehow been manufactured.Just so Miles could keep an eye on me.Far-fetched? Maybe. Had he faked his surprise at my destination of Scotland? This was just wild enough that my brother could pull it off.

Which sucks. Truly sucks.

This would be a real kick to my pride if Miles had arranged this for me.Would Sophie lie about how she found me?She’d sounded so genuine. It would be one thing if I’d gone to Miles and asked him for help, but I hadn’t. And all I felt was anger. Disbelief in myself. Again. I paced the pretty living area of the substantial apartment that had been part of the package deal that had been my admittedly generous job offer.

I’m so stupid.

Of course MacAlpine Castle wouldn’t just call me, a relatively unknown designer, out of the blue and offer me a sweet job. That was the stuff of fairy tales and or movies likePretty Woman. Yup, I was a dumbass.

This was too good to be true.

Pausing, I took a few deep breaths, trying to settle myself. This wasn’t the first time that I’d found myself in an unwanted situation, and it was far better than the time I’d been ordered to “service” the lead designer with my mouth or lose out on showing my collection.

For what it’s worth, I’d ignored the offer and left with my collection, and my pride, intact. While that moment had stung, because I’d been so close to seeing my designs on a runway, this felt even worse. Was I really just that naïve?

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