Page 63 of Return of the Scot
“Just that I’m considering it.”
But she was doing a lot more than considering it. There were parts of her she’d hidden away. Told herself that she would never be able to open those boxes and give voice to the hopes she’d had for a husband, a family. When she’d taken over the company, the business had been her main goal—her only goal besides the revenge against Lorne and seeing to her sister’s comfort. She’d tossed away any idea of a future family of her own.
And now Lorne had stormed back into her life, vibrantly alive, and offered the things she’d never dreamed she’d have. Had told herself not to even think about wanting.
Drat the tiny boxes she’d kept locked in her heart, for they were starting to peek open. Little whispers that try as she might, she couldn’t ignore. The more she listened, the more the bolted boxes wrenched open. Now, here she was, standing before him, wishing he would kiss her and that no one would care.
“What are ye thinking?” he asked. “Ye’ve a faraway look. And I’ll be honest, I’m intrigued because ye’re no longer frowning at me.”
Heat rushed to her face. “I was only thinking about how much has changed since ye came back from France.”
It was the first time she’d not said, “come back from the dead,” and the little tug at the corner of Lorne’s lip told her he’d noticed.
“Ye mean more than my brother selling ye my castle and then eloping with your sister?”
Jaime laughed and pressed her hand to her hot face. “I can no’ believe all of this is happening. It is almost too wild for the truth.”
Lorne chuckled. “If it were in a book, I doubt I’d believe it.”
“Me either. Although I’ve read some pretty fantastical tales.”
“Ye like to read?”
“Ah-ha! Something ye did no’ know about me,” she teased.
“Now that I think of it, I do recall seeing ye in the drawing room of your parents’ manse with your nose in a book.”
“Ye would be right.”
“I also enjoy books. It was one of the things I missed the most when I was imprisoned.”
“Will ye tell me about it? Your imprisonment.”
A dark cloud fell over his face, and she thought he would shut down, but he smiled. “A somber discussion should be done over tea, or whisky perhaps.”
“Why no’ both? We’re on a ship, after all. No one can tell us we’re behaving improperly by imbibing in spirits so early in the morning.” She glanced to where Mungo and Alison lurked nearby. “Except maybe those two. But we can tell them to leave us alone for a little bit, aye?”
“My kind of lass.” He grinned, and she led him into the captain’s quarters, which her captain had graciously given up during this particular journey. “Besides, the fact that we’re traveling together is liable to stir up enough trouble that morning whisky will be the least of our problems.”
“True.”
They sent Mungo and Alison to get tea, whisky, and sandwiches from the ship’s kitchen. While they waited, they made themselves comfortable in the cabin. She sank onto a well-cushioned alcove with wide windows staring out at the view, and Lorne sat in a wing-backed chair, his long, muscled legs spread out before him. She endeavored not to look at him, even though her wayward gaze kept roving over.
Goodness, but he was handsome and alluring. Unfairly so, to be sure.
She was amazed at how comfortable they could be together in silence, especially given a fortnight ago, she might have pulled a pistol on him if he dared get cozy in her presence. Even though she tried to hide her feelings from herself, it was hard not to feel warmer when he was around—even charged with an extra dose of energy that was as foreign to her as being timid.
Happiness.
15
The lass was so incredibly arresting.
Perched on the pillows, her legs curled beneath her, he could almost envision they were having a relaxing day in each other’s company rather than trying to head two idiots off at the pass.
As she stared out at the water, she looked peaceful. As though she belonged on the sea. From what he knew of the Andrewson Shipping Company, her father had inherited the business from his sire but had more interest in being in London than Scotland and even less interest in running a company. Before Lorne had left for war, it seemed the shipping company was on the verge of bankruptcy. Lorne could only credit its current success to the woman sitting before him.
What couldn’t she do when she put her mind to it?
