Kilted Lover (10 page)

“I definitely haven’t had better sex.”
And I’ve never felt so close to a man before.

His confession of guilt squeezed her heart. A surge of fragile emotion brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to tell him,
don’t feel bad. My heart doesn’t belong to Fletcher. It belongs to you now.
But she couldn’t say that. Not yet. First she had to backtrack and break up with Fletcher. Then, she’d see if Scott was interested in more. But what if this was only a physical relationship?

***

After they had sex in the cramped shower, and in the stateroom berth once again, hunger for food overcame them. Scott couldn’t wait for a restaurant. But when their rushed lunch turned into sex on the galley counter, Leslie decided she was addicted to him.

Lying in bed much later, resting this time, Leslie asked, “Do you realize I’ve had more sex during the past sixteen hours than I’ve had in my entire life?”

“You’re officially de-virginized.”

She playfully punched him in the ribs. “I wasn’t a virgin.”

Smiling, he grabbed her hand. “Almost.” He gently bit the heel of her hand. “Now you’re a nympho.”

“I am not!”

Laughing, he caught her other hand before she could smack him.

Not only did she love the sex, she loved playing with Scott, getting to know him. Her heart palpitated every time she glimpsed the unguarded, tender emotion in his eyes. She was afraid she was falling in love with him. Yes, definitely.

When she asked, he told her about Scotland. He described the dark lochs hidden among the hills and mountains of the harsh Highlands, and the sweet scent of the heather, and the brisk, refreshing air. He told her about Orkney, Durness, Isle of Skye and places she’d never heard of, like the small village where his grandparents were born. Considering the detail he gave, he obviously loved it there, and she knew she would, too. She wanted to go to Scotland with him so much, her heart ached. They could lie in bed in one of the ancient castles or cottages and talk like they were now.

“Will you go with me to Scotland?” she asked.

An unreadable emotion passed through Scott’s eyes. “You have a boyfriend.”

“Not for long.”

He shook his head. “Les, dammit.”

“So, you’re not interested in, um, anything, if I break it off with him?” She couldn’t breathe during the long moment she waited for his response.

“Why would you break it off with him?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Fletcher and I aren’t right for each other.”

“Why did you stay with him for ten months?”

“I don’t know. Convenience? He was better than nothing and I had no idea something better was out there. But now I’ve found you and I know I can’t just settle for some guy I’m not attracted to.”

The worried look lingered on his face.

“What’s wrong? Why are you sticking up for Fletcher? You don’t want more than one night with me?”

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” Scott said. “I was engaged last year.”

A possessive part of her railed at the very idea. He was meant to be hers. “What happened?”

“Some guy stole her away from me.”

“How is that even possible? You’re amazing.”

He shrugged and gave her a faint bittersweet grin. “Thanks, but he had more impressive clothes, cars, taste.” Pain and insecurity flashed in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. But that woman must’ve been an idiot.” Though Leslie felt bad for his pain, she was glad the woman had found someone else.

“Les, I don’t want to be like him, stealing someone’s girlfriend. That’s low.”

She stroked a hand along his cheek, the stubble prickling. “Scott, there’s a major difference. I’m not engaged. Even though it’s been ten months, Fletcher and I are still only dating. We don’t have a commitment. I realize now we were only together because neither of us had yet found someone better. And now I have. I hope.”

Scott wouldn’t look at her. “You should call him.”

“Why?”

“To let him know you’re okay. He’ll be worried. But for God’s sake, don’t break up with him on the phone.”

“Did your fiancée do that?”

“Yep.”

“I’m not quite that terrible.”
But almost.

Minutes later, Leslie’s hands shook as she dialed Fletcher’s number on Scott’s phone.

“Hello?” said an unfamiliar male voice. Maybe she’d dialed the wrong number.

“Fletcher?” she asked, just to be sure.

“Is this Leslie?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Fletcher can’t come to the phone right now. He’s a bit tied up.”

“What are talking about? Where is he?”

“Hello, luv,” came a new male voice, one with a British accent. The thief who’d shot at her.

Her blood turned icy. “What have you done to Fletcher?”

“Nothing a good surgeon can’t fix.” He snorted.

“Oh, my God!” Nausea flooded her stomach.

“Listen, bring me that pretty little peridot amulet of yours and I’ll give you Fletcher. Does that sound like a fair exchange to you?”

“I want to talk to Fletcher now,” she choked out.

“You think I’m lying? You think I’ve already killed him? Here you go.”

Leslie couldn’t breathe in the moment of silence stretched out.

“Les?” said a raspy voice.

“Fletcher! Are you okay?”

“Yes, stay away. Don’t come here.”

“Did they hurt you? When did they take you hostage?”

“This morning. I went to the—”

“All right, you talked to him,” the British man said in a much too cheerful tone.

“You bastard!” Tears streamed from her eyes.

“Such vile manners you ignorant Americans have! You will address me as Mr. Beckett. Do you understand? Bring me the amulet! And if you call the police, I swear, I’ll kill him. I’ll put a bullet in his brain.”

What the hell kind of warped universe was this? Leslie felt as lightheaded as if she’d spun off the edge of the earth. She breathed deep and steady, forcing herself to think rationally. She had to get Fletcher to safety. “You can have the amulet! Don’t hurt him, please!”

“Mr. Beckett,” he prompted.

“Mr. Beckett.”

“That’s more like it. I think we can work out an amicable deal,” he said in a pleasant tone.

Psychotic bastard.

“You come alone.”

“I can’t. I don’t have a car.”

“What the hell’s going on?” Scott said behind her.

She spun and took in his concerned frown. “They have Fletcher!”

“Who?”

She covered the mouthpiece. “The thieves. They’ll release him if we give them the amulet.”

“Where is he?” Scott demanded.

“I don’t know yet. They said if we call the police, they’ll kill him.”

“Shit.”

“We won’t call the police,” she said into the phone. “Just tell me where you’re holding him. I’ll bring you the amulet.”

“Who is
we
? Are you still with that Braveheart bloke?”

“Yes.”

“He can bring you, but he’d better not try anything funny. No weapons. We’ve got plenty of bullets. Enough for all three of you.”

“We’ll be unarmed.”

“You’d better be. Write this down so you don’t forget, luv,” Beckett said.

“I need a pen.”

Scott found one on the counter. “Tell me the address.”

“One-fifty-one Seagull. On Isle of Palms,” Beckett said.

She repeated the address to Scott and he wrote it on his hand.

“Take a left at the light,” Beckett said. “Then you’ll see the street sign. Pull into the garage when you arrive.”

She gave this information to Scott as well, afraid she wouldn’t remember it all.

Scott muttered a string of curses and tossed the pen.

“Let me talk to Fletcher again, please, Mr. Beckett,” she said, barely restraining the urge to yell vile names at the idiot.

“Les, these two men are criminally insane,” Fletcher said, almost in a whisper. “Don’t come near them.”

“Fletcher, we’re coming to get you. Just sit tight. We don’t even have a car at the moment, but we’ll get one.”

Sounds of sobs came through the phone. “Leslie.” His voice sounded strained.

“Are you in pain, Fletcher?”

“Leslie, I love you. If we get out of this, I want you to marry me.”

“What?”

“Will you marry me?”

Oh dear God
. Leslie’s gaze connected with Scott’s. “You didn’t just say that, Fletcher. You’re under incredible stress right now.”

“You have to marry me.”

“We’ll talk about this as soon as we’re together, once you’re safe. I have to get off the phone so I can call a friend for a ride. We’ll be there to get you.”

“I love you,” Fletcher persisted.

She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. “I love you, too. I have to go now. Bye.”

***

Scott felt as if a caber had slammed into his stomach. Leslie did
not
just tell Fletcher she loved him. What the hell?

“Hurry.” Her eyes full of tears, she handed Scott his cell phone. “Call Paul to bring us his car.”

His head spun as he pressed the speed dial button. Leslie rushed back to the stateroom.

“Yeah, bro,” Paul answered.

“Get over here ASAP. Bring my truck. The thieves took Leslie’s boyfriend hostage.” Scott finished explaining the situation and hung up. He found Leslie in the stateroom.

“Paul’s on his way,” Scott said. “How badly is Fletcher hurt?”

“I don’t know. He’s hysterical.” She wiped tears from beneath her eyes. “He even proposed to me.”

“Proposed? As in, asked you to marry him?”

“Yeah. But that isn’t like him. It’s just the stress and the fear.”

“Damn.”

Fletcher was obviously in love with Leslie, which meant Scott had well and truly stepped on the man’s toes. No, worse. He may as well have kicked him in the nuts and incapacitated him.

I’m no better than the bastard who took Isabel from me.

He pulled on a shirt and returned to the galley while Leslie finished dressing. She’d told Fletcher she loved him, so she most likely did. They probably said those words to each other all the time. But how could they mean anything to Leslie if she’d had sex with Scott so easily?

He hated the dark, hungry emotion that crept through him. He knew what it was. Jealousy. He had no right to feel possessive of Leslie, yet he couldn’t help it. He’d taken her many more times than Fletcher had, and given her far more pleasure.

But now Fletcher was an injured hostage, and he’d proposed to the woman he professed to love.

I’m a real sonofabitch.

The guilt, anger and possessiveness twisting through Scott now erased the happiness and affection he’d shared with Leslie all day. He’d loved getting to know her and talking about Scotland. And the sex. Of course he loved the incredible sex, but he also loved connecting with her on a psychological level. He hadn’t experienced that with a woman in a long time.

She should be mine, dammit.

He’d almost believed Leslie wanted the same. Just before the call, she’d mentioned traveling to Scotland together. He would love that more than anything, but she wasn’t free of Fletcher yet. After this fiasco, she might never be free of him.

***

Guilt ate at Leslie. While she and Scott had been indulging in the most erotic sex of her life, ruthless thieves held Fletcher at gunpoint. She’d never forgive herself if someone hurt him because of her amulet, whether she loved him or not. Which she didn’t. She hoped lightening didn’t strike her for the massive lie she’d told him. She’d only been trying to calm him.

In the bathroom she quickly cleaned herself, brushed her teeth, and put on her clothes, which she’d laundered in the boat’s small washer. How horrible it would be if she smelled like sex when she went to rescue Fletcher.
Ack.

After returning to the stateroom, she checked to see if she had everything. She probably wouldn’t come back to this boat. Disappointment dragged at her. She loved this place and what she’d experienced here with Scott. Noticing a small stack of business cards on the nightstand, she picked one up.
MacPherson Log Homes, Scott MacPherson, Contractor,
it read, along with an address and phone numbers. Hmm, she definitely might need that information. She slipped the card into her pocket.

Exiting the stateroom, she found Scott in the galley with a brooding and serious look on his face. She wished she knew what he was thinking. Wished she could slide her arms around him for a comforting hug. But she didn’t deserve that. She felt like the worst cheater, not truly loyal to either man she was involved with.

“Is Paul here yet?” she asked.

“No. I’ll call him again.” Scott punched a button and placed the phone to his ear. “Where are you?” He listened a moment. “Okay. Hurry.”

“He’s about a mile away.” Scott closed the phone.

Her stomach knotted. “What are we going to do? Just drive into their garage, give them the amulet, and hope they hand over Fletcher unharmed? What’s to stop them from killing us all once we’re inside?”

“We’re not going in. It’ll make us too vulnerable. And you, especially, are not going near them. I’ll take them the amulet. In fact, I want you to stay here.”

“You’re out of your mind! Beckett said I have to bring the amulet.”

“Dammit, I won’t let you put yourself in that kind of danger, Les. You mean too much to me.”

She opened her mouth to argue but couldn’t get a sound out. His last words appeared to have surprised him as much as they had her, but he didn’t draw away. His glare held an emotional edge such as she’d never seen.

Approaching her before she could blink, he impulsively cupped the back of her neck and lowered his head. His hot lips devoured hers with possession. Shivers coursed over her.
Yes!

Never had passion seized her so quickly, so vehemently, as it did with him. She forgot where she was, who she was. Rational thought deserted her, leaving her completely immersed in the depths of the kiss. His lips were firm and his tongue, sensually forceful, demanded entry into her mouth.

Framing her face, he nipped and licked at her lips. Her knees grew weak and she leaned into him. Aligned with him, thighs to chest, she felt his arousal pressed against her belly, obliterating further rational thought. She was under his primal spell with no need to escape.