quietly to another part of the world. No one outside the insular
business community of Singapore would ever even notice it had happened. For
James it would be a small business plan gone sour, and soon forgotten. He’d
forget her quickly enough, too.
She swallowed. How odd to know the ending of this story when it
had barely started.
They spent the afternoon walking the halls of the older parts
of the castle, through surprisingly small rooms with flagstone floors and
plastered walls. “Where’s all the stuff?”
“What stuff?” James had changed into dark pants and a pale
striped shirt that added to his patrician air.
“The furniture, knick-knacks, you know. It doesn’t look like
anyone ever lived here.”
“I suppose my ancestors probably gambled it all away or sold it
off. Don’t forget old uncle Gaylord, who lost the place in a card game. Maybe
the person who won it put everything on the auction block.”
“What a shame.” The room they were in had a single high window,
almost above eye level, which gave it the air of a prison cell. “It’s part of
your family history.”
“The history exists regardless of whether there’s a bunch of
old junk here.” He pointed to a dark soot stain on the ceiling. “Someone
probably sat here reading by candlelight.”
“Or sewing.”
“Or gambling away their last shilling.” His mischievous grin
tickled her insides.
“Or plotting revenge on their enemies.”
“Or making love.” His eyes narrowed slightly, thoughtful.
“You don’t need light for that,” she said quietly. The
atmosphere thickened.
“True. Just a soft surface.” A tiny smile pulled at his
mouth.
“If even that.” She tried to act much cooler than she felt. Her
imagination was scampering off in all directions. James Drummond spread-eagled
on the flagstone floor, half-naked and whispering her name. James Drummond
pressing her up against the plastered wall, breathing in her ear. “Maybe they
weren’t as picky as we are.”
James stepped toward her and kissed her in one swift movement.
Her breath and thoughts fled for parts unknown as his lips closed over hers. He
tasted delicious, intoxicating as a fine Scotch whiskey, even though they hadn’t
drank a drop at lunch. His arms circled her torso, holding her close in a very
romantic way. No groping or fondling—more’s the pity, since her fingers now
pressed into the muscle of his back and itched to roam farther afield.
When he pulled back she opened her eyes, blinking in the bright
light coming through the high window. “Was that some kind of historical
reenactment?” She didn’t know what to say and just wanted to fill the air with
sound to break the thick tension that had gathered.
“It’s history now, but the future will be here before we know
it.” He tilted his head slightly, regarding her through narrowed, storm-gray
eyes. His arms still held her, and the desire to break free warred with the urge
to clutch him closer. What was she doing? Could this lead anywhere good?
Oh, yes, some dark, selfish and
lustful part of her brain answered. Somewhere very good. James’s bed, for a
start.
She’d been so wrapped up in her business lately she’d had
little time for socializing. The publicity leading up to the sale of Smileworks
had scared all but her oldest and closest friends into being intimidated by her,
and the fact that it had sold for more than her wildest dreams hadn’t helped one
bit.
She blinked again. James was far too good-looking for his own
good or anyone else’s. How was a girl supposed to keep her cool around him?
She wished she could give her dad some money and he could buy
himself a new factory. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about getting the old one
back from James. Her dad wouldn’t take money. She knew it. He’d be angry and
feel as if she was lording it over him. He was proud to a fault, and then some.
She didn’t care though. It just made her want to try harder to make him happy.
She was
business community of Singapore would ever even notice it had happened. For
James it would be a small business plan gone sour, and soon forgotten. He’d
forget her quickly enough, too.
She swallowed. How odd to know the ending of this story when it
had barely started.
They spent the afternoon walking the halls of the older parts
of the castle, through surprisingly small rooms with flagstone floors and
plastered walls. “Where’s all the stuff?”
“What stuff?” James had changed into dark pants and a pale
striped shirt that added to his patrician air.
“The furniture, knick-knacks, you know. It doesn’t look like
anyone ever lived here.”
“I suppose my ancestors probably gambled it all away or sold it
off. Don’t forget old uncle Gaylord, who lost the place in a card game. Maybe
the person who won it put everything on the auction block.”
“What a shame.” The room they were in had a single high window,
almost above eye level, which gave it the air of a prison cell. “It’s part of
your family history.”
“The history exists regardless of whether there’s a bunch of
old junk here.” He pointed to a dark soot stain on the ceiling. “Someone
probably sat here reading by candlelight.”
“Or sewing.”
“Or gambling away their last shilling.” His mischievous grin
tickled her insides.
“Or plotting revenge on their enemies.”
“Or making love.” His eyes narrowed slightly, thoughtful.
“You don’t need light for that,” she said quietly. The
atmosphere thickened.
“True. Just a soft surface.” A tiny smile pulled at his
mouth.
“If even that.” She tried to act much cooler than she felt. Her
imagination was scampering off in all directions. James Drummond spread-eagled
on the flagstone floor, half-naked and whispering her name. James Drummond
pressing her up against the plastered wall, breathing in her ear. “Maybe they
weren’t as picky as we are.”
James stepped toward her and kissed her in one swift movement.
Her breath and thoughts fled for parts unknown as his lips closed over hers. He
tasted delicious, intoxicating as a fine Scotch whiskey, even though they hadn’t
drank a drop at lunch. His arms circled her torso, holding her close in a very
romantic way. No groping or fondling—more’s the pity, since her fingers now
pressed into the muscle of his back and itched to roam farther afield.
When he pulled back she opened her eyes, blinking in the bright
light coming through the high window. “Was that some kind of historical
reenactment?” She didn’t know what to say and just wanted to fill the air with
sound to break the thick tension that had gathered.
“It’s history now, but the future will be here before we know
it.” He tilted his head slightly, regarding her through narrowed, storm-gray
eyes. His arms still held her, and the desire to break free warred with the urge
to clutch him closer. What was she doing? Could this lead anywhere good?
Oh, yes, some dark, selfish and
lustful part of her brain answered. Somewhere very good. James’s bed, for a
start.
She’d been so wrapped up in her business lately she’d had
little time for socializing. The publicity leading up to the sale of Smileworks
had scared all but her oldest and closest friends into being intimidated by her,
and the fact that it had sold for more than her wildest dreams hadn’t helped one
bit.
She blinked again. James was far too good-looking for his own
good or anyone else’s. How was a girl supposed to keep her cool around him?
She wished she could give her dad some money and he could buy
himself a new factory. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about getting the old one
back from James. Her dad wouldn’t take money. She knew it. He’d be angry and
feel as if she was lording it over him. He was proud to a fault, and then some.
She didn’t care though. It just made her want to try harder to make him happy.
She was
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