Heart Melter (6 page)

A young brunette flight attendant approached them with a friendly smile. “Hi, my name is Lori. What would you like to drink with your dinner today? I can offer you white or red wine, soft drinks, juice, coffee, tea or mineral water.”

“I’d like a glass of mineral water. Flat, no bubbles please,” Natasha said.

“Same for me. And please bring us a bottle of chardonnay,” Ian said.

The flight attendant nodded and left.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

“Are you kidding? This plane is gorgeous and so big. A lot of people could ride here,” Natasha said.

“Nine to be exact.”

She slid her hand across the cushion and patted it. “White leather and mahogany paneling. Nice. Is it yours?”

Ian nodded. “Yes. Some might find it excessive, but this plane was worth every cent.”

“What kind of an airplane is it?”

“It’s a Bombardier Challenger 300 jet. It’s efficient and cuts my traveling time in half.”

Natasha gave a throaty chuckle, the sound pleasing to his ears. “You don’t have to sell me on it. After this, it’ll be hard to fly commercial again.”

“How is your wound? Did you remember to take your antibiotic?”

“Yes, doc.”

“Did you feel any itching or see redness this morning?”

“Nope. It looked fine. But another part of me is sore,” she grumbled.

His mouth twitched. “Can’t help you there. I’ll take a look at the cut later.”

She eyed him with a humorous lift of her brow. “This is hardly the place to examine my thigh. You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

Natasha had taken her leather jacket off earlier and was wearing a chocolate silk blouse with camel-colored cigarette pants and brown ankle booties. She bounced back lightly on the leather divan and the motion made her breasts jiggle. His palms grew damp as he remembered their soft fullness in his hands years ago. He turned his gaze away from temptation and cleared his throat.

Fluffing her hair, Natasha leaned back and closed her eyes. “Ahhh,” she sighed pleasurably, “the leather feels wonderful against my skin. I didn’t sleep very well last night.” She lowered her chin and watched him through her long lashes, her blue eyes as soft as velvet. Her mouth parted and she licked her plush lower lip as her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. Entranced, he watched the tiny pulse beat at the hollow of her throat.

Was she trying to drive him crazy?
When they’d boarded the plane earlier, Ian had sat across from her, but after she’d settled Evita in her kennel, she’d joined him on the divan. Seated close beside him, Natasha smelled like fresh roses. He inhaled deeply, sorely tempted to wind his hand in her lustrous hair and pull her on top of him for slow, deep kisses.

“That looks comfortable.” Natasha indicated the two reclining seats down the aisle covered by white down comforters. She stretched and arched her back, and the first button of her blouse strained between her round breasts. He willed it to pop open when he saw the outline of her nipples through the thin silk. “I think I’ll stretch my legs and nap there later,” she said, gazing at him with a dreamy smile.

“Be my guest.” He couldn’t control the strain in his voice, taunted by an image of Natasha nestled beneath the comforter, her supple curves naked, sweet nipples wet and pink from his greedy kisses. Hot desire inflamed his groin, making him irritable and frustrated at the strong physical power she had over him. Clamping down his jaw, Ian opened his briefcase and forced sensual images of Tasha firmly out of his mind…and memory.

“Are you going to work now?” she asked, sounding disappointed.

“Aye, I need to prepare for tomorrow’s meetings.” He pulled his laptop out and turned it on.

“Oh.” She grew silent and watched him with curious eyes.

“What?” he said at last.

“You haven’t asked me any questions about…you know. My situation.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth and waited.

“I heard enough from Ranald,” he said tight-lipped.

One graceful brow lifted. “Maybe you should hear it from me.”

“Not now. I can’t discuss it without wanting to throttle you. What were you thinking getting involved with a shady nightclub owner with connections to a crime syndicate?” Ian shook his head in disgust.

She sucked in an outraged breath and glared at him, blue eyes sparking. “I didn’t know he was a shady nightclub owner with connections to a crime syndicate!”

“You were naïve and reckless to date the
scunner
,” he said curtly.

Natasha’s chin shot up with high indignation. She opened her mouth to retort, but shut it when the flight attendant approached with their drinks and dinner trays.

When Lori left, Natasha said, “I had no idea Tony had ties to the mob. It came as a total surprise. I also didn’t know he was murdered. I thought his death had been an accident.”

Her revelation slammed into his gut. “Murdered? I didn’t know that part.”

“Well you do now, and for your information, I stopped dating him way before it happened,” she huffed. “That’s all I care to talk about. Let’s eat.”

“Fine,” he grunted, spreading the white cloth napkin on his lap.

“Fine,” she repeated, taking a long swig of wine. Natasha buttered a piece of crusty roll and chewed it slowly. Ian watched her dip a chunk of meaty lobster in drawn butter and relish every bite. Her lips glistened as she finished both lobster tails, focused on her meal, not Ian

She might not want to talk about it anymore, but one thing was certain. He would make damn sure Maggie and Ranald didn’t let Tasha out of their sight while she was in Glenhaven. Her situation was even grimmer than he’d suspected.

They ate in weighty silence and when they finished, Natasha took off her boots and snuggled under the comforter on the recliner. She turned on her side and fell asleep, her slim and curvy back facing Ian as he worked. He stared at her red-gold hair, her delicate shoulders and the graceful line of her spine for a long while.

He wouldn’t have a moment’s peace until he knew she was safe again.

When they landed in Inverness, Ian thanked the two pilots, Ron and Jeremy, and Lori, the flight attendant, before deplaning. They went through the formalities at the airport and cleared customs in no time.

Feeling awkward, Natasha quietly stood beside Ian outside Inverness Airport. His unfair criticism and accusations earlier had aroused frustration in her. Now she felt regret as she gazed into his earnest eyes.

“Stay at Glenhaven the whole time you’re there. Don’t venture into town unless you’re with Maggie and Ranald,” Ian said firmly.

She looked heavenward. “Isn’t that going a bit overboard?” From the resolute angle of his jaw, he didn’t seem to think so.

“Promise,” he said, his steely voice inflexible.

“Okay, I promise. Dinny get yer knickers in a twist,” she said, affecting a Scottish burr.

Ian chuckled in spite of his somber mood. “Look, there’s Uncle Ranald.” 

Ranald drove up in a white Land Rover and parked it beside them. He enveloped Natasha in a bear hug first and then hugged Ian effusively. Shorter than Ian by several inches, Ranald was nevertheless strong and sturdy for a man in his mid-seventies. His long face split into a wide grin.

“Welcome back, dearie. Isn’t she a wee bonnie lass, Ian?” Ranald’s green eyes twinkled as he beamed at Natasha.

“Aye,” Ian said good-naturedly. “That she is.”

“Thank you, Ranald. You’re too sweet,” Natasha said, kissing the older man’s weathered cheek.

“I have to go now. I’m leaving Tasha in your care, Uncle Ranald. Keep an eye on her. She likes to roam when she’s in Scotland,” Ian said, giving Ranald a private wink.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “You make me sound like one of your sheep.”

“Nae, a lamb,” Ranald quipped as he opened the trunk. He and Ian loaded the suitcases while Natasha lifted Evita’s kennel.

“Is that the famous Evita, then?” Ranald threw his head back and laughed when he got a good look at her. “Will you look at her get up?”

Evita lifted her proud little snout and barked at him. She looked fabulous in her cashmere coat and little plaid collar and she knew it. The camel colored coat complemented her orange sable fur perfectly.

“I have to go now,” Ian said.

Natasha peered up at him and smiled. “Thank you for everything. I appreciate it very much,” she said sincerely and deposited a kiss on each of his lean cheeks, European style. She wished she could linger longer, but she noticed Ranald’s eyes dancing as he watched her.

“You’re welcome. Mind what I said and be extra careful,” Ian said with a meaningful look. “Good bye, Uncle Ranald. I’ll call tomorrow.”

Natasha watched Ian’s strong, proud back as he retreated to his jet and climbed the gangway. Tears stung her eyes when she realized it might be the last time she’d see him. She blinked rapidly, hoping Ranald hadn’t noticed her momentary weakness. Ian was returning to New York from London and he hadn’t said a word about seeing her again.

With a dejected sigh, she straightened her spine and tried not to look morose as they drove away. Evita cuddled on her lap and licked her hand, sensing Natasha’s melancholy mood. Good thing they were riding next to Ranald, who was easygoing and great company. He would keep her distracted with amusing accounts of the village’s latest news. Ian had once said his chatty uncle was the only man he knew who loved to gossip. 

“So what’s the hottest news this week?” Natasha said in an attempt to chase away the blues at parting from Ian.

Ranald handled the steering wheel with one hand and scratched Evita’s ears with the other. “Let’s see now.” He pondered the question for a moment. “Bettina Roberts just had cosmetic work done in Glasgow and she looks verra different.”

“What did she have done?”

Ranald’s hand left the steering wheel as both his hands made a circular, bouncing motion in front of his chest.

“A boob job?” Natasha giggled at his pantomime.

Ranald nodded and grinned devilishly. “It’s no secret, but don’t tell Maggie I told you.”

“Is Bettina still after Ian?” Bettina was a cute and outgoing masseuse in her mid-thirties who was Ian’s ardent admirer. She came to Glenhaven twice a month to give Maggie and Ranald Swedish massages—Ian too, when he was in town.

Ranald chuckled and shook his headful of shaggy white hair. “Aye, that one won’t give up, but Ian has had a girlfriend for two years now.”

Girlfriend?
It caught Natasha unaware, but why should she be surprised that he had a girlfriend? Most women would consider him a hot catch, with a capital H.

“Who is she? What’s her name?” Natasha tried not to act distressed, but it wasn’t working.

“Danielle Parkhurst.” Ranald didn’t take his eyes off the road as he concentrated on the winding path. “She’s a dermatologist who worked with him in Doctors Without Borders.”

“Oh.” Natasha strove to keep the disappointment she felt out of her voice and off her facial expression. “So they’ve been together for two years you said?” she asked in a light tone.

“Aye…but it’s been on again off again because she lives in London. They keep breaking up and getting back together.” Ranald rubbed the tip of his ruddy nose. “Rather complicates things because Ian has been working with her to build his clinic in Edinburgh.”

“Are they back together now?” Natasha’s stomach tightened with jealousy. Not only were Ian and Danielle lovers, but they were working together on realizing Ian’s dream.

“Maggie said they haven’t been getting along lately, so maybe it’s off again.” Ranald shrugged. “You should ask him.”

“No, thanks.” She touched Ranald’s shirtsleeve. “Please don’t tell Ian I was asking. I was a little curious…that’s all.”

Ranald’s weathered hand gave her shoulder a fond pat. “Ian is closed-mouthed about his love life. Maggie and I don’t dare ask him much about his women.”

His women?
“How many women are you talking about?” Natasha was embarrassed to ask, but she couldn’t help it. 

He tilted his head and his brows drew together as if he were counting them. “A few, but none have mattered as much as that Parkhurst girl,” he said after a long moment of deliberation.

Natasha flinched. She couldn’t bear hearing about Ian’s love life, especially when it didn’t involve her. She had just spent several hours with him on his private jet, hoping to reconnect, but everything had gone downhill after they’d argued. She had hoped to open communication with him after she woke up from her nap, but Ian had been less than talkative. Even during the continental breakfast they’d shared later, he’d been brooding and pensive. When she’d tried to draw him into conversation, he’d said he was preoccupied with the upcoming meetings in London. Now she wondered if part of his pensiveness was the expectation of seeing Danielle.

“Och, listen to me ramblin’ on. How was your trip over, lass?” Ranald turned to peer at her warmly through olive green eyes.

“Amazing. I’d never been on a private jet before. The food was wonderful,” she said.

“What did you eat?”

“Ian arranged for a fine lobster dinner and then later, a nice breakfast.”

“Did he now?”  Ranald chuckled. “Jolly good. I’m glad the two of you have made amends. Maggie and I couldn’t be happier.”

“Don’t get too excited. I wouldn’t exactly call it amends. Ian didn’t talk much, and I slept most of the way over.”

“He’s not one for conversation when he’s preoccupied,” Ranald said, nodding.

Preoccupied with Danielle
, she thought, her heart sinking like a stone in water. 

They lapsed into amicable silence for the remainder of the drive as she looked around her, enchanted by the scenery. The Scottish Highlands were breathtaking in October. Purplish-pink heather mantled the moors in splendor, while clouds hung mistily over the fir trees and Highland peaks. Natasha never tired of the countryside with its verdant, sheep-covered mountains, jagged cliffs and resplendent glens. There was something entrancing about the volatile history of this magical land and the stalwart Scots who had defended it over the centuries from every type of invasive attack.

When they reached the winding road to Ian's home, Natasha's heart leaped at the first sight of Glenhaven estate. An enchanting arch formed by two thick rows of tall larch trees lined the dirt road.  She closed her eyes, momentarily memorizing the beauty of Ian's ancestors' land.  She opened them wide just in time to see the turreted front of the fortified castle.