Page 51 of Lochlan

“Would you like a drink to warm you up, lad?” Granda asks, holding up a bottle. “You need something to cut the chill.”

I'm not sure if he's referring to the weather or the scrutiny I'm receiving from Kenzie and Geordie. “I have no thirst at present, thank you. Fiona has asked me to go over the Catriona numbers before dinner. I wanted to let you all know that I'll be in the conference room answering questions about my figures.”

“Do you need me to help?” Kenzie asks.

She's really asking me not to leave her. I understand; no one wants to see their boyfriend go off with his ex, even if our relationship is fake. But I can't delay this meeting any longer with Fiona. Better to do it now, on neutral ground, in a place where emotions can't spiral out of control.

“Thank you for the offer, but I'm the one who researched the numbers. I shouldn't be long; I'll meet you back in our room if there's time before dinner.”

Geordie's tight-lipped frown questions if I'm sure about this meeting. I signal I am and exit, feeling three pairs of eyes on my back.

When I reach the conference room, Fiona is already waiting with her laptop open. She leans against the wall, arms folded about her chest. She's changed from her hiking attire to a red sweater, black slacks, and soft boots. Her hair is still tied in a loose ponytail, and she’s looking like a not-too-happy teenager.

“I'll just send you the research material where I got the numbers,” I say. “Once you have them, I can answer questions.”

She gives an irritated wave at my suggestion. “There's no need. I've already analyzed the projections, although I would have been less generous with the profit margins. Your figures are acceptable. Your granda will have my analysis in the morning.”

“Do you want to talk about another aspect of the project or about the winery?” I say this more to irritate her, because we both know why we're here.

“What I want to discuss is the same subject that I've wanted to talk about for three years. You've refused to speak of it and, as far as I can tell, you haven't shared your reasons why you left me at the altar with anyone.”

I place my laptop on the table. “I handled this badly. The wedding took on a life of its own, but I should have said something sooner. It was when I was alone in the church waiting for the ceremony to begin that I saw a future neither one of us would have wanted.”

She leaves her position to stand at the opposite side of the conference table, both palms planted on its surface, about to make her point. “I was supposed to be your future. We'd been planning our wedding since we were teenagers. I'm to accept that suddenly you had a vision that told you not to marry me?”

Knowing it was the only choice left to me, the memory of that day roils to the surface. “Fiona, we've been together since we were children. Before the wedding, we'd only had sex with each other. At least that was true for me.”

She pushes away from the table with angry disbelief in her eyes. “Is that why you left me, because you wanted to have sex with other women?”

Fiona doesn't let go easily, not if she thinks something is hers. Even after all this time, she can't believe that she isn't my entire universe. “I realized how small my life was and that it only revolved around my family. I wanted to find out who I was without you.”

She circles the table to stand inches away from me. Her sweet scent arouses a time when we spent long, passionate nights tangled up in her bed. It was a period when I thought I knew complete happiness.

“So many women they associated you with in the tabloids. The pity I endured from my family and friends, that I wasn't enough for you. Three years you've been in exile and you've found something better only a few weeks ago?”

“I've had my share of female companionship but, Fiona, our divide is real. I can't go back to who we were.”

“I don't believe you,” she says, looking up, her eyes haunting me.

I harden my gaze, wanting her to understand that what we once had was over. “It's best that you stop the notion of us back together. I'm with Kenzie. I've moved on.”

She tilts her head, studying me. “Where did you meet your Kenzie?”

She's baiting me for another round of what I want is irrelevant, and only what she wants matters. “We met when she was hired to work in the tasting room, you know that.”

“Are you sure you didn't have a casting call to find her? It's like you were looking for a substitute for me. You don't need a replacement. I'm here.”

Fiona perches on the conference table and with deft hands she pulls the red sweater over her head. It comes to rest in a crimson wool puddle beside her. There's not even a scrap of lace on her body. She leans back, her beautiful breasts on display.

I sigh. I'd forgotten how brazen she can be when she wants something. That's the reason I refused to speak with her after I called off the wedding. I feared it would end with us in bed and me agreeing to anything as long as she let me have her body. I had to get away then or it would never have happened.

I openly observe what was once mine to take and consider what she's offering. There's much more at stake than me coming back to her. There will be a price to pay for my betrayal. The wee temptress knows just how to snare me. I've always loved the soft curves of her body and I can't deny that I want her now.

“It's me you want, Lochlan, and that hungry stare says you know it's true.” She pulls the wee band from her hair. The mass of loose coffee-colored curls lands seductively over one shoulder. She uses her hands to shake loose more of her hair, giving me another treat for the eyes. Fiona has always been beautiful and during our three years apart, she's grown more lovely.

“This isn't the way to conduct a civil conversation,” I say, taking a step back, but not before her hand clasps my arm to urge me to her.

When I'm close, her fingers find my belt, and her nails dig past the leather into my flesh. I draw closer when her legs open.

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