Pitch Imperfect (16 page)

Ash’s hand was cold, and she warmed it between her palms. “I love you,” she said softly. “You’ve always been there for me, and now I’m here for you. No matter what.”

“No drama?”

“Only during
Springwatch
. Those little birds are preyed upon by dangerous animals.”

“Just like women who wander in the woods?”

Anjuli opened her mouth and shut it. For hours she’d avoided thinking of Rob, and that amazing, incredible kiss. She could still feel his arms around her, still taste his smoky flavour. Briefly, Anjuli told Ash about their encounter behind the Town Hall, minus the intimate details. If she told her sister about their embrace she would tell her to forget her “messed up” vow, and that she could never do. There would be a reckoning with Rob when he returned from America, one she didn’t yet know how to handle.

“Turns out the perfectly simple life I wanted in Heaverlock...isn’t.”

Eyes shut, Ash relaxed against her pillows. “Well, you could be the one stuck in hospital until your blood pressure drops. With you strung higher than a trapeze they’d probably never let you out.” Her eyes popped open. “Shit, my tax inspection is on Monday and I was going to do the paperwork today.”

“I’ll do it for you, and the inspection.”

A horrified look. “You’re really scaring me now.”

“I mean it, I can cope, just tell me what to do.”

Ash looked dubious. “Study my order sheets, the kitchen and bar receipts and the till record. Hand the inspector what he asks for, show him the invoices if he queries them and print out anything he wants.” She peered at Anjuli. “You’re not tired after staying here all night?”

Coffee. She’d need an injection straight into her brain as soon as she arrived at the pub. “I’m chipper.”

“Promise me you’ll cancel if you can’t handle it.”

“Sure, and I’ll keep my other promises also.”

“You won’t let Mum name the baby if...?” Ash shuddered.

Anjuli kissed her cheek. “You’ll name it yourself, and I’ll be godmother.”

Ash’s expression softened into one full of gratitude but tinged with sadness. “You’ll be a great aunt, I know you will.”

Throat closing over, Anjuli beckoned Viking over. “The pub will run today as usual. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll be in charge and—what’s
that
look for? If I can do accounts then I’m perfectly capable of managing the pub for one day, and Viking will be there.” She glanced at him. “Won’t you?”

He handed her his car keys. “You go. I come later.”

Drive a manual? Clutch, gears, shifts? Memories of Rob’s strained face and her cursing frustration popped into her mind. “Uh, sure. Phone when you want me to pick you up.”

Ash pointed at the door. “Both of you are leaving.”

Viking shook his head. “I stay.”

“Like a splinter under my toenail,” she muttered, but she was smiling.

Forty-five minutes and more than a few dodgy gear shifts later, Anjuli sat at Ash’s desk and gazed at the array of folders in front of her. How did her sister make sense of all this paperwork on a daily basis? She printed out the Heaverlock Arms’s spreadsheets, numbers jumbled together in mind-numbing columns of debits and credits. It was 8:00 a.m. and she’d already had two large mugs of black coffee, but it wasn’t doing the trick.

Anjuli leaned back and closed her bloodshot eyes, thinking of Ash. That her sister would trust her of all people with her baby was incredible, daunting and coiled her strings in ways she wasn’t sure she could straighten. But one thing she was sure of: she wouldn’t let Ash or her child down. She wouldn’t make the same mistakes. She would watch her niece or nephew every second of the day, never let the baby out of her sight when she was in charge. Never—

Her mobile pinged with a text. Rob again, telling her he’d arrived in London, giving her his whereabouts as if she had a claim to his movements. More strings to straighten, more knots to untie. Anjuli dropped the phone in her lap. What to say, how to undo what had happened at the ceilidh?

How to stop Rob from pursuing her as she feared he would? He’d said he would wait until she was ready. So sure of himself, so bloody confident, and it was her fault. Then again, he always had been confident.

She shut her eyes, remembering the night they’d first met. She and Mac had been friends for only a few months and were at the Douglas’s house, getting ready for a double date with Craig and another boy. Dressed and ready, Anjuli had followed her nose to the kitchen. Ben was at the range cooker with his back to her, swearing and scraping at something in a frying pan.

Anjuli grinned at his frustrated groan. Since when did Ben burn anything he cooked, or eat bacon and eggs for dinner? Twenty, and a junior police officer, he lived at home, and most days she visited he was experimenting with food. Delicious, perfectly executed meals he asked her and Mac to criticise. After the first time, she’d made sure to do her homework at Mac’s every day.

Anjuli ran her gaze down his body. And since when had Ben’s arse looked so good?

She shook her head and blushed. There was something seriously the matter with her if she was ogling Benedict Douglas. They teased each other like brother and sister, and checking him out felt...wrong. She covered her confusion by walking up to the cooker and eyeing the charred bacon and black pudding.

“Cordon Blech would love to have you, Ben. Maybe you should get one of your girlfriends to do your cooking.”

Startled, clear grey eyes stared down at an equally surprised Anjuli. “Oops, sorry. You must be the twin at uni in Edinburgh.”

He nodded, and his gaze dipped lazily, lashes sweeping down as his eyes travelled from her face to her toes. “I don’t need to get a girlfriend to cook for me. My future wife is standing right here.”

Anjuli tossed her head. She’d heard about the girls who threw themselves at Mac’s brothers. Ben was a police cadet with a criminal libido, and Rob was probably just as bad.

“Does that line get you laid in Edinburgh? Wham, bam and on to the next conquest?”

Rob looked at her intently. His answer was unexpected and yet so deliberate that, strangely, she believed him. “Why should I waste my time on meaningless flings? I’m saving myself for the right woman, if she’ll save herself for me. The fact is I can’t cook so you’ll have to do it when we’re married. I’ll wash up.”

“That’s hardly modern.”

Out came a devastating, self-mocking smile that made her body tremble and her pulse rocket through the roof.

“I’m a caveman at heart, but I’ll make it worth your while.”

Anjuli blinked, nervous in spite of herself. Rob was just as masculine and rakishly good-looking as Ben, but where Ben was hard, with a wild, untamed streak that made girls want to bring him to heel, Rob’s demeanour was self-contained. Assured. His appeal was in the sexiness of his confident self-knowledge.

Rob took her arm and pulled her close, one hand on her waist and the other cupping her chin. At sixteen, Anjuli had read loads of steamy romances and sneaked a peek at porn sites with Ash. At best, she’d felt vague, warm stirrings between her thighs when the couples got into it.

Rob’s hands felt like torches, sending instant flame straight to her core. Her vagina moistened and long, quivering pulses made her ache where she never had before. She didn’t know this dead serious, sexy student; had spoken to him for under a minute and yet her lips parted and her head tilted, mirroring the downward slope of his mouth.

Would she end up as burnt as his dinner when he kissed her? The only thing stopping him was the loud, insistent ringing of the doorbell. It went on and on, louder and louder, refusing to stop.

Anjuli’s eyes jerked open. Her phone was vibrating on her crotch.

“You need to get down to the manor, Miss Carver,” Connor said. “You’ve been burgled.”

Chapter Thirteen

A flashing police car greeted Anjuli at Castle Manor. Her heart sank as she recognised one of the officers waiting for her, looking just as happy as she was.

“Great,” she mumbled, paying the taxi fare.

Mr. Rutherford gave her a sympathetic look. “You let me know if you need anything, lass, anything at all. The missis can come up and stay with you tonight if you like. It’d be nae bother.”

Anjuli politely promised to phone if needed, squared her shoulders and walked up the path. Rob had given orders that the rest of the timber be cleared and chopped and her dirt drive was no longer an obstacle course. More’s the pity, as the delay would have given her some much-needed time to compose her skittering brain.

Why did the policeman on duty have to be her former almost-but-not-quite brother-in-law? And why there was no term to represent their relationship.
Bin-laws?
Been-laws?
Maybe she should refer to him as her
Ben-law
. Her slight smile disappeared at the expression on his face. “Enemy” would do the job. He watched her approach with barely veiled antagonism. How could one brother make her blood sizzle and the other turn her veins to ice?

She’d seen Ben only once since her return, at the deli. He’d been at the till and she’d skulked by the Beluga for as long as it took him to leave with his purchase and the new cashier’s phone number.

Anjuli extended her hand. “Long time no see.”

Ben eyed her hand as he would a poisonous snake. “Your entire delivery was stolen, according to Connor. He’s out back on the phone with Rob. They didn’t break into the house.”

Anjuli’s stomach lurched, apprehension over talking to Ben overtaken by disbelief. Connor had told her of the robbery and hung up, and she’d assumed someone had taken her laptop or TV. Why would they steal building materials?

Shakily, she followed Ben to the back of the house. Everything was gone, even the machinery Connor and his men were using. Empty space, when there’d been piles of neatly stacked flagstones and wood, glass panes and bricks. Ropes, scaffolding...everything.

Who would do such a thing? Deep gouges in the dirt at front and back of the manor showed they’d come quickly, Ben said, with two large vehicles. There must have been several men to do the heavy lifting.

Connor gesticulated near the shed, banging his fist and swearing profusely and she felt like cursing alongside him. A fresh message in black and red graffiti scrawl coloured her newly cleaned walls.

“Fuck off back to England, bitch,” Ben read out.

He returned Anjuli’s sharp look flatly. Sliding her gaze away, she hugged her arms into her chest. The theft seemed personal, not just the random act of opportunistic criminals. Suddenly, she felt more afraid for her safety than she’d ever felt in cities like London or New York. Whoever had stolen from her must have known she’d be out and they were safe from discovery.

Creepy. Just like the time a fan had stalked her in London. He’d left her love letters and flowers, flooded her with emails and posted marriage proposals on her fan sites. After he’d camped out in front of her flat, the Metropolitan police had cautioned him, and she never saw or heard from him again. Anjuli scowled at the graffiti. She hoped they’d catch the thieves and throw away the key.

She could hear Connor telling Rob he’d just reordered everything they needed on the company account, assuring him her house would be finished on schedule. Why hadn’t she let Mrs. P. guilt her into getting the insurance? Nobody would come all the way out to Castle Manor and steal building materials, she’d decided, so why pay for something she didn’t need? Only householders with mortgages were obliged by law to have homeowners insurance, and she’d purchased Castle Manor in cash.

The policy on a listed building was hefty, and she’d decided to insure once her bank loan came in. But now...She had to stop Connor from ordering what he needed. Tell him something, anything plausible. Take herself to Edinburgh first chance she had. Camp in front of the bank like her stalker had in London until they gave her the money. Then ask for more.

Anjuli leaned against the back wall and rubbed her temples. Where was she going to find the money to pay for the same materials all over again? Connor walked up and, bypassing Ben’s outstretched hand, he passed the mobile to Anjuli. “The boss wants a word, Miss Carver.”

Ben frowned, and she turned around to avoid his glare.

“Are you okay?” Rob asked.

“Peachy.”

“I don’t want you to be alone out there. Stay with Mac or Ash until I get home.”

Home.
Such a small word, encapsulating such an intimate meaning. With four letters he invited her to be safe—with him—and made her feel she was finally where she belonged.

“I won’t be alone,” she said. “Damien’s coming over later.”

“Oh?”

“Reiver’s having an operation tomorrow and he’s coming to pick him up. Not staying or anything.”

Why had she felt the need to clarify that?
Now he would say something possessive and macho and—

“Make sure he checks the windows and doors before you leave for the night.”

Anjuli narrowed her eyes at the graffiti. “I’m not running away from anybody.”

The smile in Rob’s voice sped straight to her heart. “Glad to hear it.”

While Ben talked to Rob, Anjuli did some quick maths. She would approach a different bank for more money. That’s what she’d do. Then she could complete the inside restoration work, cornices, fixtures and fittings, wages and—

Shit and double shit
.

She’d gone from Prada to nada in the space of one year, but she’d never regretted her lack of financial savvy more than now. Everything was spiralling out of control, taking her along with it. Morosely, Anjuli dragged her body to the front door, with Ben behind. Reiver padded over to greet her, his big brown eyes as mournful as she felt. She scratched him behind the ears and he let out a soft whine.

“Poor boy, you’ll feel better soon.”

Ben let Reiver sniff his hand. “I didn’t know you had a dog. He doesn’t look too happy.”

Was that censure in his voice? “He’s having an operation tomorrow,” she said, then clasped her hands nervously. Ben’s partner was at the car, talking into his police recorder. “Would you and your partner like a cup of tea or coffee?”

A hard, flat look. “The only thing I want from you is a promise you’ll leave my brother alone.”

Frank, but then she hadn’t expected anything less. “I didn’t come back because of Rob, not that I owe you any explanations.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the truth.”

He stared at her so long she wondered if he thought to find a missing person in her eyes. “No, it’s not.”

“We can play ‘he says, she says’ all morning but I’ve got a VAT inspection to deal with, a dog having surgery and a sister in hospital, so I’d appreciate it if we left the playground.”

Grudgingly, Ben nodded. “How is she? I hope everything’s okay. Ash is a very nice woman.”

And she, of course, wasn’t. “She’ll be fine.”

Ben smiled, and Anjuli’s heart clenched. The expression softened the harshness in him, making him seem the young man who used to call her “greedy guts”, and had been delighted she would be his sister. Rob wasn’t the only person she’d hurt, leaving that way, she thought sadly, but maybe in time Ben would forgive her.

“One more question before I leave,” he said, his voice deceptively pleasant. “What were you doing in France?”

Anjuli’s mouth dropped open and she felt like a rabbit faced with a fox. Why would Ben dig into her life, unless...Her jaw clenched angrily. “Did Rob ask you to
investigate
me?”

Ben slid his eyes to the castle. “I did some sleuthing when you came back to Heaverlock. Rob doesn’t know and that’s the way it’s going to stay, unless you’re itching to cause trouble between us.”

So much for hoping Ben didn’t hate her. She deserved it, but it hurt all the same. “You can despise me all you want and I don’t blame you. What I did to Rob was awful but it doesn’t give you the right to violate my privacy. I’m not a criminal.”

“I don’t want him getting hurt again.”

Neither do I.
“No matter what you think, I don’t want a relationship with Rob. If he were standing in front of me I’d say it to him myself, for the millionth time.”

“Really,” Ben said slowly. “Rob’s been offered a huge project in America. His trip overseas is to discuss it further. What would you say to that?”

Well, she would say it was bloody ironic. Rob wanted to live abroad and she never wanted to leave Heaverlock. Go figure. Their stars were just as misaligned as they’d always been in spite of how they lit up the night sky. “I would tell him to go for it.”

Silently, Ben gazed across the moor, his profile so much like Rob’s she needed to turn her gaze to the sky. The day’s changing palette, light grey over the castle and stormy pewter over the moors, made her feel bereft. Alone. No, that was the memory of Rob’s kiss.

Useless to deny she wanted him to kiss her again, deeply and passionately. Seeing him the past two months, albeit in short instances, had done nothing to stem her yearning. She liked and respected him as much as she always had. The arrogant proposal in his car had stemmed from her own cruel actions. His fairness and integrity hadn’t changed. It shone in his personal and business dealings, his kindness in the treatment of others.

Was he really considering a move to the U.S.? She didn’t want to care whether Rob lived in Scotland or America, whether he was successful or fulfilled, but oh, she wanted him to be. She wanted him to be happy, to have everything he deserved and more.

“I want Rob to forget me,” Anjuli said.

Ben’s look seemed to see straight through her. “You don’t love him?”

She wanted to lie, was desperate to say “no”, and found that she couldn’t. She could no more lie to Ben about her feelings than she could to herself.

The sound of a diesel engine drew their attention to the bridge. A mud-splattered jeep bounced over the potholes on its way to the house. Damien was early.

“There’s an excellent, compelling reason why Rob and I can’t be together.”

Ben glanced at the jeep. “And that is?”

“None of your business, Officer Douglas.”

* * *

Damien perused Anjuli’s pale, drawn face. “You look beautiful.”

She led the way to the sitting room. “Kissing that stone again, Irishman?”

“I’d rather kiss you.” He caught her around the waist, eyes full of mischief. “Damsels in distress should always be kissed better. That happens to be my speciality.”

Anjuli’s pert rejoinder was cut off by another kiss, this one more demanding. Uh-oh, their lip to lip at the ceilidh had unleashed the lion and she was the gazelle. No, the rhino.

Damien broke away, half amused, half frustrated at her laughter. “I am definitely losing my touch.”

“Would it help if I told you I thought of you as a lion? A strong, pouncing beast.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Was it her imagination or was there a bulge pressing into the curve of her stomach? Maybe he couldn’t help poking that thing into her. Must be terribly inconvenient when he hugged his granny or—

Damien groaned. “Oh, Lord Jesus help me. She’s laughing again.”

“Only because you are a fine specimen of beasthood.”

“The King of Beasts can mate up to thirty times a day.”

“That’s because he spreads himself between the females in his pride. It lasts just a few seconds each time. I watch the Nature Channel too.”

Slowly, Reiver padded into the sitting room and greeted Damien, who checked him over, all traces of flirtatiousness gone.

“I was expecting you this afternoon,” Anjuli said.

“I heard about Ash and the burglary and wanted to see how you were.”

Panicky and poor
. “Drained.”

“Then get to bed, doctor’s orders.”

“I have a shift at the pub, and I’ve got to battle with numbers for Ash’s VAT inspection.”

“I’ll do your shift today.”

Damien laughed at her expression. “I’m Irish, aren’t I? Pulling pints is like having second sight. Don’t worry, I worked in a pub while I was at university. Stay home and get some sleep. I’ll talk to Viking and we’ll make an alternative appointment with Her Majesty’s Customs and Excise. I had to do it when—” He cut himself off. “Suffice to say I know it can be done.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll take Reiver with me now and drop him at the surgery for tomorrow’s op.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “And in return?”

“I get to kiss you into bed?”

Anjuli chuckled. “A peck at the door, I think.”

“My timing is as risible as my kisses.”

“Why don’t you hunt down that pride of females and try to improve it?”

“Ouch.”

* * *

Anjuli slept the afternoon and evening, waking up the following morning at sunrise before fixing herself a strong cup of coffee. The wind howled outside, and the draught whistling through the house warned of winter temperatures, never far off in the Borders.

She walked in and out of empty rooms, pausing to study each of them with pride. Before her return she’d wondered whether living in Castle Manor would be a disappointment. So many places that had seemed larger than life in her childhood were either completely transformed or diminished to her as an adult. But the old manor loomed larger than before, more exciting and alive, now that Rob was revealing its former glory.

Its large rooms were spacious, high-ceilinged examples of the elegance of another time. The cornices—intricate carvings of flowers and vines—vestiges of stately beauty. As she walked up the shorter, narrower steps to the third floor, Anjuli trailed her fingers on the cool, wooden banister. She surveyed the stripped walls and the newly built en suites. The floorboards were bare and ready for sanding. Gone was the plywood covering empty window frames, and in its place shiny new glass, marked with taped Xs.

What would be the final price for all this beauty?

Worry gnawed at her stomach, followed her to the ground floor. The sunny morning room, where ladies of the house used to sew and receive visitors, had a large crack on the east wall. It had appeared underneath the wallpaper and was probably nothing to worry about, Connor said, but if it was it would be another unforeseen expense to fork out for.