Page 8 of Kilts and Kisses at Highland Hall (Kilts and Kisses #1)

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.

‘I was just gonna grab a slice of toast and get on with work,’ she said.

Duncan’s eyebrows rose, and there it was again – that smile, close to a smirk, twisting at the corners of his lips. She wasn’t sure she liked it, regardless of how attractive he looked doing it.

‘Well, unless you brought some bread with you, you’re going to be out of luck. Fergus keeps nothing in the house.’

Bex scoffed. ‘I’m sure he’s got bread.’

‘He doesn’t,’ Duncan said, without batting an eyelid.

‘The only thing he has a decent supply of is whisky. Occasionally, he’ll buy a nice bottle of red wine to have at home too, but for his meal, he prefers to support the village.

And it’s a habit I’ve kinda fallen into now too.

I have breakfast at Maggie’s, lunch at the Thistle.

Normally. I like to mix it up now and then. ’

As Bex mulled his comment over, she studied his face.

She’d had plenty of men give her incredibly lame reasons to try to get her on dates before.

There was that time a colleague insisted there was a Tube strike and that she’d be quicker going with him in his car; then he’d suggested they stop for dinner and make a night of it.

That was when she realised the Tube was running perfectly well after all.

She’d even had men she didn’t know approach her on girls’ nights out, insisting they could show her a ‘better time’ and trying to buy her a drink.

Clearly, this Duncan thought he was smooth and that she’d fall for his plan of trying to take her out for breakfast, but that wasn’t going to happen.

‘Well, thank you for the offer, but I’m fine,’ she said.

He frowned. ‘Really, I’m not playing any games with you.

If you need something to eat and you don’t want dog food – which is the only other thing Fergus has plenty of – then it’s a mile and a half into the village.

Or you could grab a lift with me now.’ He sounded sincere.

There was no doubt about that, but Bex still wasn’t falling for it.

‘Well, have a nice drive to the village, Duncan,’ Bex said, plastering on her best no-bull smile. ‘If you are the groundskeeper, like you say, then I’m sure I’ll see you around. Ideally, not in my bathroom next time.’