Page 44 of Wild Scottish Fortune

I jumped when a puppy tumbled into my lap, followed by two others, and they wrestled each other around my legs, clearly unconcerned for any of my body parts as they nipped and growled at each other. One puppy, a fuzzy white one with a black mark on his ear, grabbed the lace of my shoe in his mouth and tugged.

“Hey there. Tough wee lad, aren’t you?” I booped his nose and he abandoned the lace for my finger, his sharp teeth sinking into my skin. “Och, that’s a fierce bite, mister!”

“Are you okay?” Orla reached over Harris and grabbed my hand, bending her face low to my palm. I froze. Her hands were surprisingly soft for a builder, and warmth trailed across my palm as she examined the bite. Her warm breath heated my skin, and I shifted, feeling my body respond to her closeness.

“It’s fine. Just a wee scratch.” I needed to break contact before I embarrassed myself in front of her. Instead, I tussled with the puppies in front of me to distract myself from thoughts that were taking me down an entirely different route.

Her hair smelled like wood chips and lemon.

It was an unusual combination, but one that suited her perfectly, and I tried not to imagine her in the shower, lathering a lemony soap onto her supple body.

A sharp yip drew my attention to two puppies who had moved from playing into a more serious battle. Reaching over, I tugged them gently apart, taking the fiercelygrowling one into my palms and leveling him up to my face.

“Sir. You’re going to need to tone it down.” I admonished the puppy gently and Orla chuckled next to me as the puppy tried to paw my nose.

“Yes, lecturing him sternly will certainly get through to him.”

“It certainly worked with me.”

“Och, tough parents?”

I glanced at Orla as she made a strangled noise, like she was upset with herself for asking, and her eyes widened as she quickly looked away, shaking her head slightly as though she was berating herself. Was it because she didn’t want to get to know me on a personal level? Or because she thought she’d crossed a line? Either way, I was even more intrigued about her now, so I decided to ignore her odd look and focused my gaze back on the puppy that was currently falling asleep in my arms.

“My father preferred things done his way. Rules were meant to be followed, and his word was law.”

“And that knocked all the silliness out of you?”

“Something like that.” I curled the now sleeping puppy into my side and looked out across the room as I thought about my childhood. Had I ever been a silly child? I didn’t remember being so. As an only child, my parents’ expectations had weighed heavily on my young shoulders, and I’d always been more prone to my studies than play. Maybe that was part of what had upset me so much about my father’s lies. All those years of me working hard and following the rules, never one to indulge in games, and my father had been playing games all along. With my mother’sheart. With his family’s livelihood. Apparently, he’d had a need for the adrenaline rush, and because of it, he’d come down harder on me. It was almost as if he’d been punishing himself through me, and it had made me a reserved child. I’d had to actively work against that inclination to become more personable in the business world, but it had taken years for me to do so.

So, no, I hadn’t been much for silliness in my youth. I tried to make up for it now, when I had a moment to spare, but old habits die hard, and more often than not I used my downtime for work.

Rarely did I do something so frivolous as to spend a morning away with puppies in my lap.

Orla didn’t ask more, even though I would have shared about my life if she had done so. Instead, we fell into companionable silence, her wrapped around sweet Harris, and me with a growing pile of puppies in my lap, as more wandered over and clambered onto my legs for a sleep.

“So much for these posh trousers escaping unscathed.” I pretended to sigh heavily in disappointment.

Orla made a tsking noise.

“Such a shame, really. I hear dog hair doesn’t come off.”

“Nope, going to have to bin these clothes now.”

Orla rolled her eyes, but then, in a surprise move, she punched my arm lightly.

Much like she had awkwardly the other day.

Her cheeks pinkened and she looked away.

Well, well. Wasn’t that interesting? Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t the only one affected by being in each other’s company.

Very interesting indeed.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Orla

Itried to remember just how cute Finlay had looked with three puppies sleeping on his lap, while a team of hair and makeup people worked on me. It was the only redeeming quality I could think about him in this moment, as nerves twisted low in my stomach about attending the gala that evening. I should be at home on my day off, crocheting a blanket for Harris and listening to a podcast while Goldie blew some bubbles in her bowl.

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