Page 6

Groaning as she stretched again, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, before staggering over to the window. Maybe she had left it open without knowing. Maybe that was the reason they were so bloody loud. Yet as she pulled the curtains open and stared out of the morning beyond, any thought of shutting off the noise or going back to bed evaporated.

Somehow, the view was even more impressive now, with a delicate morning light stretching across the hills and a soft, gauzy mist hanging low above the loch. Grabbing her phone, she took a quick snap and fired it off to Daisy. Her friend was a painter and would absolutely love this.

With the photo taken and all the curtains open, Bex didn’t see any point in climbing back into bed. In hindsight, she was surprised she had fallen asleep so easily. If she would have known that she would be staying in a near-abandoned castle she might have found the idea somewhere between somewhat creepy and mildly terrifying, but she hadn’t been the slightest bit nervous going to bed at all. Then again, maybe it was because she had been so tired, or maybe it was just because this room was probably used to visitors like the nephew and… who was the other person? The groundsman, maybe? No, Fergus had said something about a kid, hadn’t he? Not that it mattered now. For the next two months, this was going to be her room.

‘Right, time to see how hot this electric shower actually is,’ she said to herself, grabbing a towel and heading into the bathroom.

Just like the rest of her room, the bathroom was colossal. There was a large, freestanding roll-top bath at one end, a separate shower, a toilet and his-and-hers sinks. An electric towel rail was just beside the door. It was hardly cold, but there was no feeling quite so good as stepping out of the shower and wrapping yourself in a nice warm towel. She hung hers up by the door, crossed the bathroom and stepped into the shower.

Given how elaborate and expensive everything else in the room and bathroom was, Bex was surprised to find a plastic bottle of men’s shower gel on the shelf in the shower. It didn’t seem like the type of thing Fergus would use, and she couldn’t imagine the nephew of the laird going for a cheaper brand either. Still, given that she had left her own washbag in the bedroom, she squirted a blob of gel onto her hand. She was surprised to find it didn’t smell that bad at all and a quick look at the label told her it was pine scented. It would definitely do.

Just as Fergus had said, the shower was surprisingly good, and this came from someone who liked their water red hot. As such, it didn’t take long before the glass steamed up entirely and for that pine aroma to flood her senses. It was the type of shower she could have stayed in for ages if her stomach wasn’t growling loudly. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to go to bed without a proper meal. She would need to have something now. Both food and a coffee. Then she could get on with her first day at work.

Switching off the water, Bex reached through the cloud of steam to open the glass door, stepped outside, and headed towards her towel.

Why would someone place the towel rail so far away from the shower? she thought as goosebumps rose on her arms. Maybe it was because the room was so big and they didn’t want empty spaces, but common sense should have dictated they put it closer than that. With her body dripping and aware of the puddle forming at her feet, she shuffled over towards the towel rail, the heat of the shower long forgotten. When she finally got there, Bex reached out a hand, her fingertips just brushing the soft fabric, when the door swung open.

For a split second, she thought it must have been the wind from the open window, or that maybe it was the dog Ruby who had come up to say good morning, but it took a single blink for her to realise she was very, very wrong.

Standing in the doorway to her bathroom, and unlike her, totally dressed, was a broad man with blue-green eyes and tousled blond hair. And he was staring right at her with his jaw hanging open.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Her voice was a shriek as she whipped the towel across herself as quickly as she could, but there was no doubt the man had seen everything. He was standing there, mouth still wide open, cheeks turning redder and redder.

‘Oh God, oh God, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,’ he stammered, raising a hand to shield his eyes, even though Bex was now covered with a towel. ‘I didn’t think anybody – nobody ever uses – I’m going, I’m going. I was never here. I’m going!’

8

Bex stood there, dumbfounded, as the man backed out of the room, keeping his eyes covered even as he fumbled his way out. A second later, she heard the bedroom door click shut.

What the hell had just happened?

In her shock, she hadn’t really taken much in about his appearance, but now, as her heartbeat gradually slowed, an image formed in her mind. He had been good-looking, she realised, and it hadn’t just been his green-blue eyes. He’d been tall. Bearded. A quintessential rugged Scot. That was how he’d looked to her, but who the hell was he? The nephew? Her temperature plummeted. Oh God, had Fergus’s nephew just seen her in the buff? It certainly seemed like that. Of all the ways to start a job – a job that could control the very outcome of her future career – displaying herself to the boss’s nephew did not seem like the best idea.

Bex drew a long breath in then blew it out slowly as she tried to stop herself from going into full panic state. She would just have to pretend it had never happened. Forget she ever saw him. Yes, that would be the easiest thing to do. And he would want to do the same too, wouldn’t he? Of course he would. He was the nephew of a lord. That had to be close to royalty or something. There was no chance he’d ever want to admit to walking in on one of his uncle’s guests – his accountant no less – naked. Yes, this was just as embarrassing for him, if not more so.

The entire time she was getting dressed, Bex rehearsed through what she was going to say if she saw the nephew again. She would simply act like she hadn’t met him before. Never seen him in her life. Then he would do the same, and it would all be as though the incident had never happened. That was what she thought, at least until she stepped out of her bedroom and saw him standing there in the hallway.

Her stomach did something between a flip and a cartwheel, yet before she could even get a word out, like ‘let’s just pretend that never happened’, he was walking straight to her.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, moving from where he’d clearly been leaning against the wall waiting. His cheeks were still a rugged pink, as if the embarrassment had yet to fade, and as he got closer, the colour deepened further, with the blush going all the way up to the top of his ears. Now, without the shock, Bex could take him in a little better and as such, she realised she’d been wrong about her first assumption. He wasn’t just good-looking like she’d first thought. He was gorgeous. His eyes were piercing and so unique in colour, while his sandy-blond hair was the same colour as his beard, which was a little longer than anyone’s she’d ever dated before. Not that she was thinking of dating him – looking at Fergus’s nephew that way was not okay, even if he had seen her naked. She quickly brushed the thought from her mind.

‘No one ever normally uses that bathroom,’ he said, his thick Scottish accent causing an abnormal fluttering in her belly as it resonated down her spine. ‘Fergus lets me use it when the water’s gone at the lodge – which is most of the time. I didn’t realise you’d be here. He said you were starting work on Tuesday; I just thought… I’m sorry. Very sorry.’

Bex bit down on her bottom lip. In any other situation, she’d have given him an earful about checking before barging into rooms, but this wasn’t the right person to do that to. She inhaled deeply in an attempt to steady her pulse, but the effect it had was the exact opposite. Was that pine she could smell? Pine like the shower gel she had just cleaned herself with, only she was certain the aroma was coming from him and not her. God, that smell suited him.

Stop it, Bex, she scolded herself. Pushing her shoulders back, she plastered her most professional smile on her face, then stretched out her hand towards him.

‘I’m Rebecca Barker,’ she said. ‘You must be Kieron.’

The man raised an eyebrow as a slight smirk tugged at his lips. ‘Oh no, I am not Kieron. I’m Duncan.’

Duncan? Fergus had mentioned a Duncan, hadn’t he? Something about ‘the young lad’. In Bex’s mind, she’d imagined just that – maybe a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old kid who enjoyed spending time around the castle. This Duncan was definitely not that. Standing at least six foot two, with broad shoulders and a solid stance, he looked 100 per cent man to her. Bex felt heat rise in her cheeks as she tried to quash the thought.

‘Sorry, I don’t understand. What are you doing here? Where’s the lodge?’

‘I’m the groundskeeper. I’ve got a little cottage, the lodge, just round the back of the keep. Look, I really am sorry. Let me make it up to you. Have you had breakfast yet?’

Her stomach growled, answering the question, though Bex hadn’t decided if she wanted to go anywhere with him. Sure, he was good-looking, but how did she know he was actually who he said he was? Yesterday when she’d arrived, she’d thought to herself how anyone could just walk into the castle, the way Fergus left it unlocked. Maybe this man pretending to be Duncan had done just that.