Page 28 of Hollywood Games
‘Is this really necessary?’
Rory nodded. ‘I wouldn’t be bothering you if it wasn’t. I’m no good at this kind of thing and you’re a pro.’
Barbara tilted her head to one side. ‘It’s been a while. I’ll have to see if I have any jewels left and ask Bentley to help.’ She hesitated. ‘Doesshehave to be there?’
He nodded, feeling his stomach tighten. ‘Zoe’s the reason all of this is happening. And Brad is more than a bit taken with her.’
‘Does he know about the rat?’
Rory sighed. ‘Yes, he does, and he loves Basil. And may I remind you I was the one who bought him.’
‘You’re such an amateur. You should have come to me last year before your ineffectual attempts to get rid of her. If you’d followed my advice, she wouldn’t have lasted a week.’
Rory took a breath and held back his anger. ‘Show her some respect.’
Barbara turned away and picked her sewing back up. ‘Just give me the date and the guest list and I’ll sort the rest.’
The morningof Brad’s return to Kinloch, Zoe was as nervous as a cat in a dog pound at the thought of Brad and Rory meeting for the first time. Brad was used to being the star; the biggest, the brightest, the best-looking. However, if Brad was a star, in her mind Rory was a supernova, eclipsing Brad in every way without even trying. They had to make sure this visit fed, not compromised, Brad’s substantial ego. He was due to arrive in the afternoon with Crystal, stay for dinner, then be driven back to Inverness for the night by Barry. At least he wasn’t expecting to stay, as the rooms were far from ready.
She’d been working in the estate office all day, running back to the cabin at lunch to load the Rayburn with more fuel. Rory had been quieter than usual, and by the time Brad was due to arrive had disappeared completely. Zoe texted him and went to the main entrance of the castle to wait. Crystal had messaged her to say they were five minutes away, so she stood outside at the top of the wide steps leading down from the huge entrance doors to the cobbles of the front courtyard, fretting about where Rory had got to. She was about to ring him when she heard a noise behind her and turned to see him exiting the castle. Her jaw dropped as he walked the short distance towards her.
Gone was the scruffy and feral estate manager. In his place stood the Earl of Kinloch. His hair had been washed, brushed and dried, falling in perfect aristocratic curls around his powerfully masculine face. He was wearing a whiter than white ironed shirt; a moss-green tweed waistcoat and jacket, tailored for his colossal form; a tie with an SAS tie clip, and seven medals mounted to a metal bar pinned to his jacket. On his bottom half, a kilt, dark brown socks pulled to just below his knees and polished brown boots. The effect was spectacular.
Zoe stood, trying to reassemble her brain whilst her body prepared to have sex with him right there and then. He closed the gap between them, put his arms around her and brought his lips to hers. There was no gentle exploration, no subtlety. He kissed her like he was possessing her, holding her to him, plundering like a pirate king. She exploded with light, nerves firing and misfiring, a chain reaction cascading through her cells, leaving her muscles confused and weak. As her legs wobbled, he held her, leaning over her so she was nearly parallel to the ground. His mouth was ruthless, taking everything she could give, then stealing more. She gripped the sides of his jacket, feeling the scratchy tweed, her heart racing, her head spinning. She heard a high-pitched ringing in her ears, and just as she thought she would lose consciousness, he brought her back to stand. She opened her drowsy eyes to see a glint of victory in his. He set her down and immediately turned away, striding down the steps, his arm extended, voice powerful and confident: ‘Mr Bauer, I’m Lord Kinloch, welcome to my home.’
Brad had arrived.
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If there was ever a time in her past where Zoe had wished the ground had swallowed her, it paled into insignificance next to this moment of exquisitely excruciating embarrassment. Rory could have greeted Brad with his arm around her. That would have been a far subtler way of showing their relationship. Instead, he went for a display that showed dominance, power and control, in front of a man they were trying to impress, not piss off. Brad looked as though he didn’t know whether to be shocked, envious or aroused, rapidly cycling through every emotion in his actor’s handbook. Crystal was most definitely aroused, staring at Rory as if he were the embodiment of sex itself, and Barry was standing to attention by the driver’s door, his facial muscles tensed but his eyes sparkling.
Rory pumped Brad’s hand up and down, still speaking with utter self-assurance. ‘I apologise the dowager countess isn’t here to greet you, she’s busy preparing for our dinner this evening.’
Brad recovered well. ‘Hey, no worries, man. This is my assistant, Crystal.’ Crystal gave Rory her hand and he brought it to his lips, lightly kissing her knuckles.
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Crystal. I know how much work you’ve put into making this happen and we’re very grateful for your time.’ Crystal tried to speak but only a squeak came out. Zoe was still on the top step by the door trying to control the heat in her cheeks and her pants, simmering with annoyance at how Rory was playing them all. What had happened to her socially awkward hobo of a boyfriend? She saw Barry glancing at his tie pin and medals, then imperceptibly incline his head. The two men exchanged a look of understanding.
Zoe strode forward, her arms open wide. ‘Brad! Darling!’ she cried, air kissing him. ‘I’m so excited your vision is nearly here.’ She gave Crystal a big hug, Barry a wink, then turned back to Brad. ‘You must see everything we’ve been doing.’
‘Lead the way!’ said Brad excitedly. She pulled him after her, giving Rory a hard stare. He looked blandly back and offered Crystal his arm to escort her into the castle.
Zoe had sent the workers away early so it would be quiet for Brad’s tour. First she showed him the downstairs rooms that would be used for production offices, and later converted into the castle tea room and gift shop when the crew had gone. Despite his vapid Hollywoodness, Brad was on it, making assessments of their progress against the schedule and giving rapid-fire notes to Crystal, who held one of her phones near his mouth to record his directives.
The kitchen, modified for the needs of his private chef, was nearly finished and now contained a twelve-drawer dehydrator, two Vitamix blenders, a sous vide machine, ice cream maker, café sized coffee maker, spiraliser, professional vacuum sealer, air fryer, food processor, Kenwood chef and indoor smoker, on top of ovens, fridges and blast freezers. After half an hour they finished downstairs and stood at the bottom of the grand staircase as it wound its way up to the first floor. Brad paused, inhaling history, as if the musty smell of age and decline was fresher than an alpine spring meadow.
‘This is what I’m talking about!’ he exclaimed, caressing the carved wood of the staircase covetously, and looking in awe at the portraits on the walls. His gaze went from the paintings to Zoe. He brought his hands in front of his face to form a frame, walking backwards up the stairs, then back down towards her. ‘Yeah, yeah, this is going to be sick,’ he exhaled, his face inches from hers.
A muscle twitched in Rory’s jaw. Zoe knew he wasn’t happy. But if he was annoyed, she was livid. The future success of the castle relied on Brad portraying it in a good light. If they pissed him off, he wouldn’t feature it at all. All he needed to do was substitute a couple of exterior shots of another castle and they were screwed. Despite mostly seeing the gentle side of Rory, Zoe knew the biggest alpha on the block lurked within. His need to mark his territory and assert dominance over Brad was clear. However, his display was a step too far and as soon as she had him on his own, she was going to let him have it. In the meantime, damage control was needed. She switched on a smile and shone it directly at Brad. ‘Shall I take you to the earl’s chambers, where you’ll be sleeping?’
‘Yeah, baby!’ yelled Brad, his aristocratic fantasies coming to life. Zoe had allocated more people to work on his room so it would be finished first. It had needed rewiring, the bed refurbished, new upholstery, not to mention an entirely new bathroom. The only things left to install were the marble splash backs and the chandelier in the en suite. Brad kicked off his loafers and leapt onto the bed, arms and legs spread like a starfish, groaning with sensual overload.
‘How does it feel being in the Earl of Kinloch’s shoes, going back hundreds of years?’ asked Zoe.
Brad closed his eyes. ‘History. I’m downloading it now. It’s so intense.’
Zoe could see Rory’s hands balling into fists. She caught his eye, glared at him and shook her head, warning him to stay quiet.
