Some Like it Scottish (24 page)

Now that they'd had sex, it was as if Kit was hooked on Ramsay. If she stayed at his house any longer, not even the rest of his family under the same roof would keep her from being with him and giving his bed a workout. And that just couldn't happen.

Up ahead they saw Morgan stepping aboard Lochie's boat, the one he shared with his brother. Kit felt panicked. If they cast off and she wasn't there for the mixer, Kit would have to deal with the fallout from an unattached bachelor.

“I've got this.” Andrew picked up the pace, leaving the women, and calling out, “Lochie. Hold up.”

Kit relaxed when Lochie stopped. She and Moira stood and watched as Andrew talked the two out of making a getaway. When Andrew pointed to Kit, Lochie nodded, and Morgan came back with Andrew. God, she hoped Harper had had the same luck with the other runaways.

“Sorry,” her client said, keeping her head down.

“It's okay.” Kit wrapped her arm around her. She understood—the heart wanted what the heart wanted. “Just meet the bachelors tonight. You're under no obligation.”

Morgan looked up at her with earnest eyes. “Then I can see Lochie again?”

Kit had backed herself into a corner. “We'll talk about it after the mixer, okay?”

Morgan's mouth turned downward and her shoulders slumped.

“Come on. Let's get ready for our social.” Kit worried whether Morgan's deflated spirits were an omen for the evening.

*   *   *

Two hours later Kit stood in the center of Thistle Glen Lodge's living room. She had started her day being frazzled because of Ramsay, and had stayed frazzled because of the local fishermen. But lucky for her, all her clients had been found. Though some looked well kissed.
Damn the fishermen. The charming devils
. Kit felt as if the universe was out to get her.

She tried to look on the bright side. The evening was young. It could still turn out okay. Harper stood guard at the doorway of the dorm with a cricket bat in hand.

“Hey.” Kit took a sip of her tea, trying not to think about all the other things that could go wrong tonight. “I've got a favor.”

“Anything.” Harper patted the bat like some tough guy. “I haven't had this much fun in a long time.”

“Playing bodyguard to a bunch of heiresses is fun?”

Harper laughed. “Yeah. Weird, huh?”

“About that favor . . .” Kit hesitated. “I think a few of our bachelors are going to be left out in the cold.”

“I'm afraid the pairing off is over and done with,” Harper agreed. “I'm pretty sure your clients won't be interested in the men you brought in for them.”

“About that . . .” Kit averted her eyes. “I wondered if you'd be willing to be one of my clients tonight. Help entertain the bachelors. I'm going to have a tough enough time charming the men so they don't feel like they came to Gandiegow for nothing.”

Harper laughed. “First, you're crazy if you think Ramsay will stand for you flirting with anyone else.”

Kit chewed her lip until she realized Harper was watching her closely. “But he won't know because he won't be there.”
Unless he crashes the party.

Harper shook her head. “You forget you're in a small town. Ramsay will find out, one way or another. Back to your favor . . . I can't be one of your clients because I have no interest in dating right now. Do you know how many times I've had to threaten the local fishermen with this bat since I've been here? When I tell them that I'm studying to be a nautical archaeologist, fistfights have broken out to see who gets to take me diving. You're going to have to do something about them if you plan to make Gandiegow your base.”

“I know. But right now I have to worry about tonight.” Kit was glad she hadn't signed Ramsay on as one of her clients. Harper was right—Ramsay would drag her from the mixer if he caught her flirting . . . which made her stomach do a little flip
.
She took a deep breath and plowed forward. “Do you have it all under control here?”

Harper hoisted her bat onto her shoulder. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

“I have to go pack my things. I'm moving in here with you.”

“Really?” Harper eyed her carefully. “Did you and Ramsay have a fight?”

Kit put her hands on her hips. “What makes you think this has anything to do with Ramsay? I just think we need another set of eyes on my clients, and perhaps another cricket bat at the ready for the fishermen.”

“But have you told Ramsay what you're doing?”

“You're exasperating.”

“I assume that's a
no
.” Harper shrugged. “I think you just added another to your list of fishermen who are going to be a problem.”

Kit walked past her and out the door. This was her
opportunity to get her things while Ramsay was occupied with the bachelors. Yes, she was a coward. Yes, she was using her clients' attraction to the local fishermen to run away from Ramsay. But she had to do this. Her family needed her to stay focused on the end goal—make enough money to buy back the security their father had gambled away.

She hurried to Ramsay's cottage, keeping her gaze on the sea, imagining Ramsay on his new boat, proud and happy. At the cottage door, she walked right in, at home enough now to do so. No one was in the living room area, and Kit blew out a sigh of relief. But as she made her way down the hallway, Maggie's bedroom door opened. Her new friend looked tired and pale.

Kit went to her and touched her arm. “Is everything all right?”

“This bairn likes to sleep. I might've overdone it the last few days.”

Guilt seeped into Kit. Could she really move out and leave Maggie, especially knowing that she had problems carrying a baby to full-term? Maggie needed her here to get up early and cook for the men, and needed help with the housework, too.

“How about you and the baby go lie back down? I'll make you a cup of herbal tea.”

“That does sound lovely.” Maggie hugged her tightly. “I don't know what I'm going to do when ye're gone. Maybe you could stay here permanently.” She laid a hand on her abdomen. “I know I'm being ridiculous, but I'm going to miss you when you go.”

Kit shooed her off to bed, realizing her plan to move out wouldn't work. She was needed here. But how was
she going to stay out of Ramsay's arms now? Well, she didn't have time to think about it. First she had to get Maggie squared away. Next, she had to get herself ready. Then she had to throw the mixer of the century.

It took nearly an hour to dress, fix her hair, and do her makeup. When Dand came home from playing with Mattie, Cait's boy, Kit made him a snack and sat with him while he ate. Then they sang silly songs together as she towed the energetic boy to Rowena and Sinnie's so Maggie could get some rest.

As Kit left Dand with his aunts and stood on the stoop, she saw Ramsay coming her way, presumably heading home. He looked like a commercial for
Living Well
. His face glowed and his long hair was windblown. He looked happy, alive, and irresistible to a woman who was used to pressed suits, relationship games, and guardedness.

Like two ships passing, she slowed only a little, nodding her head in acknowledgment. “Ramsay.”

“Kitten.” His burr was intoxicating and his eyes danced.

She almost came to a screeching halt, for no other reason than to run her lips over his. But she let him pass and only glanced back twice to watch his swagger against the backdrop of the sea.

But she was on a mission. She patted her messenger bag. She was headed to the men's dorm to get every last one of them to sign a client agreement. Whether they wanted her to or not, she was fixing them up. They would get their happily-ever-afters or else.

There was a little pang in her chest. She wished Ramsay would be there tonight. But this feeling she had for her chauffeur would pass. He had been her shelter in the storm when she'd first come to Scotland. Once she was home
again, she would be able to shake this feeling, wouldn't she? This growing ache inside her was beginning to feel like a full-blown attack . . . on her sensibilities.

She stopped at the women's dorm first and found that Harper had the socialites under control.

“I'm going next door to speak with the bachelors.” Kit patted her messenger bag again. “We have business to attend to.”

“Good luck,” Harper said.

“Luck better have nothing to do with it.” Because Kit's luck since she'd come to Scotland . . . sucked.

She walked next door to Duncan's Den and knocked. While waiting, she practiced her pitch—all the reasons they should sign up for the Real Men of Scotland.

Davey finally opened the door, wearing a McBain kilt. His eyes lit up. “Come in, lass. We've all been waiting for you.”

Waiting for me?
She put on a forced smile and followed him in, feeling confused.

“Have a seat. I'll get the rest of the lads.”

One by one, the men marched in, wearing their respective clan's kilt. It was an impressive show of legs and manliness. But she was befuddled. Of course, she didn't mind that they all had dressed for the occasion, but how had they known that she wanted them to go all-out for the girls? Instead of questioning them, she accepted the gift with a smile. Some of the tension caused by the evening's uncertain outcome released just a little. She perched on the arm of the sofa.

They gathered around her, and Davey, who was apparently the acting leader of the Scottish warriors, pointed to her bag. “You have contracts for us to sign?”

Kit almost fell off the couch in surprise. “I— I . . .”

Davey laughed with a deep timbre. “Ramsay told us to be prepared for the paperwork.”

“And said he'd kick our arses if we didn't pony up our signatures.” The blond man with dimples and huge biceps was apparently one of Ramsay's recruits, as she didn't know him. He offered her his hand. “I'm Colin. I own the Spalding Farm. Ramsay and I met at university and I can attest to his arse-kicking capabilities. Why don't ye give me one of your papers to sign?”

She didn't open her messenger bag, but instead looked at each of their faces, still a little stunned that Ramsay had gone out on a limb for her. The tension inside her loosened even more. It felt good to know that she wasn't in this alone, that Ramsay had her back.

For a split second she remembered he'd had more of her than just her back. For a brief night, he'd had
all of her
.

Another of the men she didn't know cleared his throat, bringing her back to them.

“I'm Mac,” he said. “I work at the bank at Fairge.”

And the other two she didn't know introduced themselves as well.

“So did Ramsay also tell you what to expect?” she said.

Mac frowned. “He said to expect that you would have rules. Said if we don't follow them that that would be grounds for an arse-kicking, too.” He chuckled. “How you managed to wrap him around your little finger, I'll never know.”

Davey gazed over at Kit, scanning all her attributes. “I know how she did it.”

Mac laughed heartily this time. “One can never underestimate the power of a beautiful woman.”

“Aye,” each of the men said.

“Since you brought it up, let's go over those rules.” She pulled out the contracts, feeling renewed. Everything was going to be okay. She got down to business, listing her expectations for the men tonight.

Twenty minutes later they were finished and she knew these were all good guys. Ramsay had done well in selecting the other four, even if they didn't have the kind of wealth she had originally been targeting. She was very pleased with them just the same.

She wished she could say the same of her girls. Love had a way of making even the meekest woman a bit wild. Love also had a way of making the most mild-tempered person a depressed mess. Although the bachelors seemed to be on board, Kit feared it was going to be the bachelorettes who were going to be the problem tonight. She went next door to give them a rallying speech.

Kit stood by the empty fireplace. “I realize that most of you aren't thrilled about our social tonight. That you've found some interesting men on your own since coming to Scotland.”
Found
wasn't the correct term. Those girls didn't have a chance once the fishermen had caught them in their nets and poured on their “real men” charm. Kit sighed. “But the bachelors that I've brought to Gandiegow for tonight's gathering have made sacrifices to be here. I hope each of you will give them a fair chance.”

“Lochie is upset that I'm going tonight,” Morgan complained.

“Thomas insisted I shouldn't go,” Gretchen, one of her quietest women, said.

Mercedes, another of her clients, put her hand up like she was in a classroom.

“Yes?” Kit said.

“You say on your website that we should be true to ourselves and follow our hearts.”

Kit exhaled deeply. “Absolutely. All I ask is that you keep an open mind. Agreed?”

None of them looked convinced, but almost all of them nodded their heads.

“How about we head over to the restaurant and the mixer?” Kit retrieved her bag. As her clients filed out, the knot in her stomach was back.

Harper gave her a hug. “It's all going to work out as it should.”

“Of course it will.” Kit twisted her hands. “That doesn't mean I'm going to like it.”

Harper laughed. “Let's look at it as an adventure, like we're diving for treasure. Who knows what might be found?”

Kit rolled her eyes. “You're quite the philosopher.”

They followed the girls across town to the restaurant. Once inside, she saw that everything had been arranged perfectly—Maggie's centerpieces on the scattered tables, the soft music in the background, and the low lighting. Everything was set for love. But the bachelors were standing awkwardly on one side of the room while the women huddled by the entrance as though they couldn't wait to leave.