MacLarens of Balmorie 05 - Once Upon A Time In Scotland (7 page)

Silence fell upon the library, each man no doubt recalling his own struggles, returning from combat, fitting back into civilian life...

“Lucy is keen on starting a spa here in the castle,” Ian broke the quiet. “There's a few rooms on the third floor that will work. We'll do massages, facials...” He waved a hand, obviously out of his comfort zone with spa-related stuff.

“Who's going to perform these services, exactly?” Liam asked.

“Lucy is taking point. Said she'd find someone certified...”

“It's a good idea,” Dev said with a yawn. “Women love that
shite
.”

“Men, too,” Liam told them. “Ever have a pedicure?” They looked at him as though he'd sprouted wings. Liam grinned and saluted them with his glass and let his accent go thick. “Haven't lived, lads, until
ye've
had a lass massage
yer
feet, ankles, and calves for twenty minutes...” Smiling, he drained his glass. “Amateurs,” he said when he was done.

Jamie chuckled, shaking his head. Ian started laughing, and soon Devin was doing the same.

When the meeting ended Liam agreed to talk to Ross and Malcolm. His uncle would be glad to see him, but Malcolm was the kind of man who was possessive about his space, his land, his privacy. This wasn't going to be easy.

CHAPTER 6

Riley's formal engagement party was held in
Balmorie
Castle's large conservatory, which ran nearly the entire length of the loch-facing side of the castle. It was a beautiful addition with a dozen huge glass windows. And, on occasion, it served as an excellent ballroom.

Abbie
was helping to move a few potted plants to a table that had been pushed along the wall. Liam and Jamie were moving furniture to the far end of the conservatory, arranging things to Fran's exacting standards. Riley and her cousin Lucy were adding table cloths, while Blake and Mia brought in trays that would, in a hour or so, hold delicious homemade Scottish fare.

A few times,
Abbie
felt Liam's gaze, but ignored it and kept working. His hand-fasting kiss yesterday had thrown her completely off track. And, in all honesty, she was still a little dazed. It was the sweetest, slowest, sexiest kiss she'd ever had and it had done all sorts of happy things to her body. The way her heart had tripped... She'd completely lost her purpose for the day and spent the afternoon—when she should have been working—lost in clouds.

This evening she vowed to keep her distance.

Finishing her task, she joined the girls with the table set-up.

“Have you been to the chapel yet?” Mia asked her with a friendly smile as they worked.

“No. You?”

“Yeah. We went yesterday. Where were you, by the way? We went by your cottage.”

“I was at the castle ruins.”

Riley placed a pile of napkins on the table. “Hmm. Now that's funny. Liam told Jamie he went to the ruins yesterday, too.”

Blake leaned past Riley with a megawatt smile. “
Abbie
, you didn't!”

“No,” she laughed, busying
her self
with rolling napkins and placing them inside rings. “Rest assured my virtue is
in tact
,” she said, dryly.

Riley couldn't seem to contain her smug smile. “So, how was it then, exploring the ruins with our fair Liam?”

Instantly, his kiss flooded her memory. Her cheeks went warm and she tried like hell to put a damper on her reaction. “Fine. He told me all about the history and that poor girl getting murdered there.”

“What girl?” Fran asked, depositing a large vase of freshly picked wild flowers on the table. The elderly woman had become one of
Abbie's
favorite people at the estate. They'd met on
Abbie's
first morning when she'd joined Riley at the castle for breakfast.

“
Bree
, the one who was pushed from the tower.”

Fran's brow knit into a frown. “Who's been telling ya such nonsense?
Bree
MacLaren
took a spill down the stairs on her way to midday meal.”

Abbie
blinked. It took a moment for the woman's words to sink in. Liam had totally played her. And she'd bought it hook line and sinker. As if on cue, he walked back into the conservatory with Jamie as they went for another piece of furniture. His gaze swept over the group. He was grinning at something Jamie said, and he looked so good
Abbie
wanted to kill him.

Fran chuckled, looking between the two. “Aye, our Liam can sure tell a tale or two.”

“Oh, aye, he sure can,”
Abbie
muttered, glaring at his back as he headed to the far end of the room.

As Fran went to the kitchen, the three friends gathered around her. “All right, out with it. What really happened in the ruins?” Mia asked.

“Nothing. Nothing happened except a lot of tall tales.”

“I think he's totally into you,” Blake said, watching Liam from over
Abbie's
shoulder.

“He's not. And he knows where I stand, so nothing has or will happen.”

“Well if he's into you and you're into him, what's the harm?” Riley asked, apparently the eternal optimist and romantic.

“I'm not into him.”

Mia and Riley laughed.

“
Girl
.” Blake felt
Abbie's
forehead for fever, then stared over her shoulder as Liam and Jamie hefted a couch and carried it away. “
Somethings
gotta be wrong with you if you're not into
that
.”

Abbie
laughed and swatted Blake's hand away, turning back to the task of rolling napkins and putting them in the pretty Celtic-style napkin rings. “So the chapel...” she prompted in an effort to turn attention away from all things Liam.

Her friends grudgingly dropped the subject.

“The chapel is amazing.”

“So romantic.”

“Lucy and Ian were married there over the winter,” Riley told them. “Their wedding was beautiful. That was the night I started to fall for Jamie.”

And, no doubt, it was the night Liam had his winter wedding hook up. She was kind of sorry she'd asked now.

“You should go see it, Abs,” Mia suggested.

“It's not far, just beyond the garden by the patio. There's a small stone path leading to the chapel,” Riley told her.

“Maybe later after the party, I'll take a look.” As the chatter continued,
Abbie
half paid attention, her thoughts on Liam and his tall tales. She wanted to give him hell for filling her head with some made up story. Though, she had to give him props—it
was
a good story, and she'd been so eager. So eager that she felt a tinge of embarrassment at having believed him so completely.

Joke was on her.

Maybe she'd concoct a story of her own and allow him to believe it for a little while. Would serve him right. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more resolved she was to the task. He'd fed her what she wanted to hear, knowing her profession and that it'd appeal to her, so maybe she'd return the favor.

* * *

After helping set up for the party
Abbie
went home to change.

She told herself a gazillion times she wasn't dressing for Liam, but the truth was, she wanted to tempt him. Probably juvenile, but he deserved a little hell for his deception at the ruins, which, incidentally, had given her imagination a spark, one that she could easily flame into a kick ass story. She should be thanking him, not giving him hell.

But then, the idea of giving Liam
MacLaren
a little hell added a level of excitement she hadn't felt in a long time. She couldn't resist.

Her dress choice for the night was a sexy summer number with spaghetti straps, flowing skirt, and a bodice that hugged her chest and accentuated her cleavage quite nicely. She never considered herself a great beauty, but she always thought the sky-blue color went well with her black hair and olive skin. The skirt fell just below the knee, and she wore wedge sandals that strapped around her ankles.

After she was dressed, she'd twisted her black hair into a messy knot and added drop earrings.

All set, she'd hopped on her bike, tucking her skirt under her, and pedaled to the castle. The girls would think her crazy for her mode of transport, but somehow it felt romantic to coast by the pretty scenery with the wind in her face and her skirt fluttering around her.

At the castle,
Abbie
parked the bike and adjusted her skirt before entering the castle. Music carried through the Great Hall. In addition to family and friends, Riley had invited every guest at
Balmorie
. There were small groups talking near the fireplace and lounging in the comfy seating areas. But, judging by the noise down the hall, most of the guests were in the conservatory.

As she moved past the grand stairs, she stopped cold at the sight of Liam in the embrace of a beautiful woman with a fall of honey blond hair and infectious smile. He leaned back and gave the woman a very blatant once over.

Heart in her throat,
Abbie
stepped back, stunned, the sight causing a disappointed chill to swept through her entire body.

A heavy sensation settled in her chest and she felt a little . . . wounded.

More than a little, if she was being honest.

Liam wasn't hers. Hell, he was so far away from being hers that it was silly to care about him or his love life at all.

Get it together
.

Drawing in a deep breath, she prepared to walk by and ignore the gorgeous couple, but as she started, Liam and the woman joined arms and walked toward the party, heads together in private conversation.

Obviously, they were very familiar with each other.

Just as well, she thought, lifting her chin and trying like hell to ignore the sour knot in her chest.

Abbie
plastered a smile on her face, searched the crowd, and located her friends. As the party progressed and conversations came and went, she couldn't seem to shake her pensive mood. Eventually, dancing began, so she took a place by a tall plant and watched the dancers go round and round in steps that were very similar to Square Dancing.

Blake and Mia were having a ball and flirting outrageously, which made
Abbie
smile, while Riley only had eyes for her handsome Highlander.

Abbie's
heart went soft as she watched them together. It made her wish and want for things she'd kept at arm's length for the last four years. She couldn't remember the last time she'd opened her heart, even a little.

As she moved to the table to pour herself a drink, she struck up a conversation with Fran who was busy manning the table and helping serve guests. After they exchange pleasantries, Fran's eyes went wide at whatever was lurking over
Abbie's
shoulder. “Oh, dear heavens,” the woman muttered.

“What is it?”
Abbie
followed Fran's gaze to find a tall, black-haired Scot who had marched inside from the patio. The man radiated anger, his wide shoulders tense and his eyes spitting fire. “Who's that?”

“That'd be Ross
MacLaren
. And in a foul mood he is. No doubt he and Liam had words again...” She let out a sigh, shaking her head. At
Abbie's
confusion, Fran explained, “They're brothers, ye ken?”