Page 36 of Wild Scottish Beauty

Instead, I glanced at her, helpless not to, and shook my head.

“Nope.”

“Right, that’s an American thing, isn’t it? Talking about our feelings.”

Feelings? She’d be terrified if she knew the particular feelings I was having about her right now. Namely centered on lifting her on top of one of those steamer trunks andunwrapping her slowly, discovering every inch of her delicious body, while she unraveled under my touch.

“Nowhere did Sophie mention that bringing on an intern required daily emotional discussions.”

“Just business for you then, Ramsay?”

“Aye, just business, Willow. It’s better that way.”

“Is it normal for you to storm out of business meetings with zero explanation then?”

I winced at Willow’s cheerful question, annoyed that she was pinning me so neatly into a corner. Despite myself, my lips quirked.

“Absolutely. Isn’t it for you?”

“God, no. A woman isn’t allowed to storm out of anything unless we want to be labeleddramatic.”

I couldn’t be certain, but it seemed Willow was poking fun at me.

“An unfair double standard, I’m certain.”

“I’d say. For a man—it’s a power move. A woman? We’re too emotional. It’s annoying, really.”

“I wasn’t pulling a power move on you, Willow. I just had a moment.”

“Yet you’re refusing to work with me and jeopardizing my new career here in Scotland. So how is that not a power move?”

I pressed my lips together, a trickle of shame working itself through me. I’d been so focused on my own shite, that I hadn’t stopped to think about how my actions were potentially jeopardizing Willow’s future. In my mind, Sophie would still work with Willow whether I was involved or not. I just hadn’t bothered to clarify that pointwith Sophie. Now I realized that I was doing something that I, personally, hated. Meddling in someone’s dreams.

Damn it all to hell and back.

I’d have to follow through on my word, allow Willow to work in my shop, and give her an opportunity to create something beautiful for the castle. It wasn’t fair of me to stand in her way, and she’d come here under the promise of being able to apprentice with a kiltmaker steeped in Scotland’s history. Taking that away from her simply because I thought she was pretty was decidedly unfair. My attraction to Willow was ameproblem, not aherproblem.

I’d just have to do better.

Resolving myself to a few nights of cold showers, I decided maybe it was just a newness thing. Once I’d spent more time with Willow, the “shiny new toy” appeal would wear off and she’d go back to being my friend’s annoying wee sister. Not that I ever remembered her much being annoying.

Current circumstances notwithstanding, that is.

“I’ll see you at ten tomorrow. Don’t come before that. I like to have my coffee in peace.”

With that, I left, knowing that I didn’t have the patience to continue exploring the storeroom with Willow. I needed to recalibrate my idea of a quiet solitary workshop in Loren Brae to one with an employee and regular customers. Which meant I needed a training manual, systems in place, and a somehow magical ability to ignore Willow’s obvious charms.

“Looking forward to it,boss.”

Boss.

Damn it. Sophie was going to owe me big time.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Willow

Sir Buster had seemed determined to show me to my room, growling his way down the hallway, perhaps keeping Clyde from popping out of the wall to terrify me while I carried a box of treasures I’d found in the storeroom. After Ramsay had left, I’d spent another hour going through a few more boxes, finding it a touch easier to concentrate without him grumbling in the corner. The storeroom really was a treasure trove, with some dresses that I was dying for Sophie to put on display in the castle somewhere. Such finery was too fancy to be wrapped away in a box, never to be seen or admired. I was a strong believer that clothes were meant to be worn, or in this instance, displayed, and I catalogued the various outfits that I found and what trunks they were in to discuss with Sophie.

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