Page 15 of Wild Scottish Beauty

“Clyde,” Ramsay said, putting me gently down and making sure I was steady on my feet before stepping away.

It was like losing a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night.

I instantly missed his nearness, my body wanting to be snuggled up to his, and I had to force myself to take a step away from him to steady my nerves and pull my thoughts away from just how right it had felt to be cradled in his arms.

Let’s just say my ex-boyfriend hadn’t exactly been a knight in shining armor type, okay? He’d been hot, in his own art school vibe way, but not like this tall muscle-bound man who oozed strength and confidence. Really, could anyone blame me if my mind went to certain places around Ramsay? I imagined he cut a wide swath through the supermarket, women tailing him like lost puppies, pretending to reach for something on the highest shelf just to ask for his help.

Ramsay also had an impeccable sense of style. All ofwhich ticked some of the boxes of what I found attractive in a man. His jeans were the perfect fit of not too tight, not too loose, cuffed casually over thick-soled boots. A heather-green wool sweater worn over a faded tartan shirt, both sleeves rolled to reveal intricate tattoos snaking up his arms, and a chunky watch at his wrist.

I’d forgotten just how green his eyes were.

It was one of those weird memories, which itched at my brain and took me back to being seventeen, dreaming over boys and clothes and makeup, and Ramsay had been the most exotic man I’d ever seen before. His soft accent, striking eyes, and taciturn attitude had sent my friends and me into a tizzy. None of which I’m sure he remembered, since he’d spent most of the trip fishing and camping with my brother on Rainy Lake.

“Oh, no. Willow, I’m sorry. I should have prepared you for that. Clyde is…well, he’s an experience, let’s just say?”

A plaintive moo echoed through the castle and Sophie grinned. A curvy girl like me, with rose-gold hair and a casual style, she had that fresh-faced American look that California girls seemed to effortlessly exude.

“And we love you for it, Clyde,” Sophie called, directing her voice toward the corridor.

“So … that’s a normal thing, eh?” I asked, making a mental note to never sneak downstairs for snacks in the middle of the night. Nope, I would be stocking the mini fridge in my apartment with any needed midnight munchies, thank you very much.

“Normal would be a stretch, I suppose, but Clyde is part of MacAlpine Castle’s charm.” The woman sitting by the fire rose and walked forward, hand outstretched. Withshort hair, an efficient and motherly air, her presence instantly soothed me. She wore fitted navy corduroy pants, buttery-soft Chelsea boots, and a cream-colored cable-knit sweater. Country cottage chic. “I’m Hilda, one of the castle caretakers, and this is my husband, Archie. I largely run the interior and Archie handles the maintenance and gardens, but if there is anything you need, we’re both available to help.”

“Thank you, Hilda. Nice to meet you.”

“Welcome, lass.” Archie lifted shaggy brows and nodded at me from where he tied flies by the fire.

“You fish?” I asked, angling my head at him.

“It’s a passion, I’ll admit. Do you?”

“I do,” I said, because, well, it was hard to grow up in Minnesota and not try your hand at fishing on occasion. Particularly when you had an older brother who would drag you along on his days to watch you. So I’d learned, reluctantly, and had quietly come to enjoy the peaceful times at the lake. It had given me time to sketch designs and dream over my future.

“That’s a good lass.”

The way Archie said it made me want to preen, as though I’d just received the highest badge of honor, and my lips quirked in a smile.

“Well, honestly, this is going far better than I expected. Since I have you both here, do you want to just quickly talk about your schedules this week? Ramsay, I’d like to get Willow down to your shop at some point so she can scope the place out and make some notes on what she’ll be doing for you.”

I blinked at Sophie, my brain scrambling to catch up toher words. My mouth went dry. I turned slowly, my eyebrows at my hairline, and met Ramsay’s eyes.

“Notes?” Ramsay asked Sophie, ignoring me.

“For the internship? The one you agreed to?” Sophie spoke slowly, as though educating a three-year-old, and Ramsay’s eyes shifted to mine.

“Willowis my intern?”

“I mean, I’m not yours, per se, it’s not like you own me,” I rushed out. No idea why I said that, because the idea of Ramsay owninganypart of me didn’t seem all that distasteful.

“No,” Ramsay said. Turning, he left the room, and my mouth dropped open.

“Right, yes, he does have a habit of doing this. Don’t worry, Willow. We’ll figure this out.” Sophie patted my arm, glaring at the empty doorway.

There was no way this was going to work. It was one thing for Ramsay to be here, on my new adventure, and another thing entirely to be working for him. I sighed, looking around at the expectant faces in the room.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do this.”

CHAPTER SIX

---