Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt (Hot Scots #4)

Chapter Five

Jamie slumped on the sofa in the sitting room of Dùndubhan, gazing out the windows into the walled courtyard of the castle. She didn't really see anything, though. Her focus had retreated inside herself, to the pain in her chest and the burning in her gut and the image of that blasted credit card. What in the world had Gavin been thinking? Did she mean so little to him?

Emery occupied the chair by the window, the one where Rory usually sat. She kept eying Jamie with a strange expression. This was the look Rory said meant Emery was scheming to meddle in someone else's life.

"I've seen it often enough," he'd told Jamie, "when my wife was meddling in my affairs. She does it gently, and there's no stopping her when you become the object of her mission."

Jamie's life was a mess. Maybe she needed someone to gently interfere.

The monster-movie figurines on the windowsills — Dracula, the Wolf Man, the Mummy, and a zombie — might once have seemed out of place in the home of the most uptight MacTaggart. This year, thanks to Emery, Rory had embraced Halloween.

"Go on," Jamie said, "tell me how you think I should get Gavin back."

She didn't like the sharp edge in her voice, but her emotions seemed to have shut down her brain. No one had ever called her tough. Sweet, cheerful, happy, even naive. Never tough.

"Do you want him back?" Emery asked, her spooky-cat shirt glittering in the light streaming through the windows.

Jamie hunched her shoulders. "Donnae know."

"Yes you do." Emery rose and crossed to the table in front of the sofa where she sat down on its shiny surface. "You're a smart girl, Jamie. You know what you want. So, do you want Gavin?"

"I do." Jamie grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her tummy. "And it's awful."

He'd humiliated her and made her feel as pathetic and small as Trevor had five years ago. No, Gavin had made her feel even more pathetic and so small she expected she might fall through a crack in the floorboards.

"Listen," Emery said, "I know what it's like to love a man who's damaged on the inside. Rory didn't want to love me. He did everything he could to make me dislike him, but I saw what he was really doing. It's a protection mechanism. Gavin's doing the same thing, though I know nothing about his reasons. If you really love him, if you want to be with him, you need to help him work through his issues."

"What if he won't let me? I can't force him to tell me all his secrets."

"Force isn't required." Emery said with a devious glint in her eyes. "I found sex to be an excellent tool for loosening up a man's inhibitions — and his mouth."

Jamie flattened her lips, feeling her brows lower. "Ye cannae be serious. I'm to seduce Gavin in hopes he'll open up to me about his problems?"

"Exactly."

"It won't work." Jamie clutched the pillow tighter, head down. "I can't get in the right mood when he's hurt me the way he did."

"Don't try it today," Emery said, her tone implying that was a silly idea. "Stay here with me and Rory for a spell. Relax, take a nice bubble bath in the claw-foot tub, go for walks, whatever makes you feel better."

"Then what?"

Emery tapped her chin, squinting as if thinking hard. "Let me think about it. I'll come up with something."

"I should smack him in the head with a hammer. Nothing else will loosen him up."

"You're hurting right now. Don't make any decisions until you've cooled down."

Jamie let her head fall back against the sofa and moaned. "You're right, I know. But I don't like feeling so… miserable."

"We have that in common. Being unhappy isn't in our nature, so we tend to feel cast adrift when someone makes us miserable."

Emery really did understand. Maybe Gavin wasn't Rory, but Emery's experiences with her wounded husband might prove the best inspiration for Jamie to save her man.

Save him? Och, did she want to do that? Should she do it?

Never a fool again.

A knock sounded at the door, and they both swung their attention to Mrs. Darroch hovering on the threshold of the open doorway. The gray-haired woman lowered the hand she'd used to knock on the doorframe. "Jamie, ahmno sure if ye want to see him but… Gavin Douglas is in the vestibule. He's asking for ye."

Jamie's stomach flipped and flopped and did a pirouette. Anticipation raced over her skin, an electrical current that raised every hair. She should not be excited to see Gavin mere hours after he'd shattered her hopes and dreams. She shouldn't want to see him, but her heart had other ideas.

"Let him in," she told Mrs. Darroch. "Send him here."

Mrs. Darroch left to retrieve the scunner.

Jamie winced inwardly. Even thinking the word scunner in association with Gavin made her a bit queasy. She'd never done well with nastiness. Besides, until recently, Gavin had been sweet and thoughtful. Since they couldn't see each other often — twice a month, maybe — they talked on the phone, Skyped, texted, emailed. He sent her gifts for every holiday. For the American holiday known as Flag Day, he'd sent her a stuffed bear wearing a T-shirt that said "USA" on it and holding a little American flag in its chubby fingers. He sent her real maple syrup from Minnesota on National Pancake Day. Gavin had noted UK holidays too, sending her a tiny, smiley-faced stick man and a picture of a bonfire for Guy Fawkes Day. Cigarette lighters and matches, he'd explained, couldn't be sent via mail. She'd been touched he remembered what she told him about how people burned effigies of the traitor Guy Fawkes on every November 5 and tried to commemorate it with her in his own way.

Gavin paid attention to everything she said. How, then, had he misread her so terribly today?

Emery touched Jamie's knee, pulling her out of her reverie. "I'll be in the kitchen. Call me on the house phone if you need backup. I'd be happy to whoop his ass for you."

Jamie couldn't help smiling, though her lips quivered a wee bit. "Thank you, Em. You're my favorite sister, even if we didn't grow up together."

Emery winked. "I won't tell Cat or Fiona you said that."

"Oh, I've already told them. They don't mind. We all know you're a miracle worker, with the way you turned Rory upside down, shook out his nonsense, and set him right again."

Laughing, Emery shook her head. "That's a strange way to describe it, but not entirely inaccurate. I helped Rory work out his own nonsense. He had to want to do it, like Gavin has to want to fix himself."

She squeezed Jamie's knee and strolled out of the sitting room.

Jamie huddled there, feet tucked under her, pondering the embroidery on the pillow clutched to her belly.

A man cleared his throat.

She glanced up to see Gavin in the doorway, his wary gaze on her. His big body filled the doorway. He bunched his shoulders, his entire body taut and every muscle on display thanks to the close-fitting shirt and jeans he wore.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Aye."

He shuffled to the sofa, then hesitated again. "May I, uh, sit here? I could go over to that chair or stand —"

"Bloody hell, Gavin." She thwapped the cushion beside her. "Sit, before I change my mind about letting you in the room."

"Okay." He settled onto the sofa, his firm ass straddling the other two cushions as if he thought she might skelp him if he got too close. "I'm sorry, Jamie. I handled this all wrong."

She snorted. "How should you have handled giving me a credit card I don't need or want?"

He grimaced. "That was supposed to be a joke. Kinda."

Kind of a joke? He'd made a fool of her, that was for sure. She had no idea what to say to him now because anger and pain warred for control of her heart. Skelp him or weep? Neither one would make her feel better.

Gavin laid a palm on the cushion near her knees. "I know we can't go on like this. Me flying here, you flying to America. That's no way to live."

She didn't dare look at him. That might lead to either violence or melting into his arms. Neither option seemed useful at the moment. A coldness infiltrated her, borne of a dread she couldn't quite name. What was she afraid he'd say? Or not say? Something worse than his credit-card malarkey.

"Are you asking me to move to America?" she said. "Or are you offering to move here?"

He fidgeted, his mouth twisting into a pained expression. "Neither. I need time to figure out what I want. What's best for both of us."

"Both of us?" She scowled, powerless to keep from looking straight at him. The muted light glistened on his cinnamon hair, and his pale-honey eyes shimmered with… regret? Oh, she would not feel sorry for him. "You're going to decide for me what's best? I make that decision, not you."

"Sorry. I said it wrong again." He bowed his head, scrubbing his scalp with his nails. "Dammit, I can't figure out how to say it right. I need time, that's all I know. Time alone."

"Without me is what you mean." Though her gut churned, and bile tainted her mouth, she had to ask. "Do you still love me? Did you ever love me?"

He fisted his hands on his lap and glared down at them, his brows cinched together. "I — God, I don't know what I feel anymore."

She jerked as if he'd struck her. He hadn't said he didn't love her, but his words implied it. The cold inside her mutated into ice that seemed to coat her skin and penetrate to the core of her being. She would've expected tears, but somehow, none came. They must've frozen along with the rest of her. She could do nothing except stare at him numbly.

"I lost my job," he said, like the statement explained everything.

Jamie couldn't speak. Or move. Or think.

His gaze zeroed in on her. "I've got nothing to give. No money, no prospects, no goddamn clue why I'm so messed up lately. I've gotta get myself in order before I can figure out how I feel about us. I'm not expecting you to wait around forever. Give me a little time, that's all I'm asking. If you get sick of waiting, you can dump my ass all over again and I won't pester you to take me back."

Dump him? Was that what she'd done today? The ice inside encased her heart, suffocating her soul. She loved him. In spite of what he'd done, she couldn't stop loving him at the snap of a finger.

"Take your time," she said, stunned by the flatness of her voice. "And I'll think about how long I can wait for you to sort yourself. Or if I can."

"Fair enough." He leaned in, though not all the way. "Could I… kiss you goodbye?"

Her pulse sped up. He didn't know if he loved her. He didn't know if he wanted to be with her. Still, she wanted his kiss. She wanted him. It made no sense, but then, feelings often ignored logic. One kiss goodbye. If he decided he couldn't be with her, at least she'd have had this one last moment with him.

Jamie bit her lip and nodded.

Gavin draped an arm along the sofa's back, his hand alongside her shoulder. He scooted closer, his body surrounding her, the scent of him spicy and tempting. Those full lips, the ones she'd kissed so many times before, hovered millimeters from her own. His breath teased her lips, and they tingled with anticipation.

His eyes searched hers.

She slanted in, their mouths brushing against each other, and parted her lips.

"Jamie…" He slid his tongue along her lower lip, drew it between his, and released it little by little, leaving her lip moist and warm. His tongue slipped between her lips only to withdraw. "God, Jamie…"

She pressed her mouth to his, stealing a taste of him between his lips.

With a groan, he gave in. His tongue thrust inside her mouth, and she opened wide for him, starved for the flavor of him and the rough strokes of his slick, hot tongue. She met his swipes with her own, coiling her tongue around his even as her teeth nudged his and their lips crushed into each other. He belted one arm around her to pin her body to his.

A little moan escaped her, swallowed by his mouth consuming hers.

She clenched her fingers in his shirt. Her body softened and heated, excited by the sensation of his hard muscles flexing against her. The peaks of her nipples shot rigid, rubbing on his chest, making her so wet she moaned again.

His free hand plunged into her hair. He tipped her head back, delving deeper into her mouth. The hand on her back rushed down to palm her behind, the fingers kneading her flesh.

Jamie didn't think, couldn't think. She climbed astride him, their mouths still fused and hungry.

Gavin sank back into the sofa, one hand in her hair, the other shifting down to the hem of her skirt and whisking beneath it. She fastened her arms around his neck, devouring him with ever more frantic thrusts of her tongue. He devoured her in return and shoved his hand inside her panties to cup her ass, skin to skin. Her body ached and throbbed and thrummed with need.

So long since he'd touched her this way. So long since he'd taken her.

This jackass broke your heart , a voice inside warned.

With his mouth latched to hers and his body beneath her, she didn't give a damn about anything that had come before this moment. She loved him, needed him, wanted him with a desire so ferocious it annihilated every thought and inhibition.

He swept his hand, still inside her panties, around her hip to the front of her body, palming her mound. With a guttural groan that resonated into her through their joined mouths, he thrust his fingers between her folds to fondle her clitoris.

She rocked her hips into the caress, moaning into his mouth.

Those strong fingers rubbed her clit, delved down to stroke the inner lips of her sex, swept back up to torment her nub. She threw her head back, riding his fingers as if he were inside her, driving her toward climax with deft thrusts of his fingers instead of his cock. Its length rubbed against her thigh, thick and rigid, and though she struggled to take his shaft inside her, she couldn't make it happen while her panties and his hand on her sex combined to block her efforts. He muttered "fuck" and rubbed her faster, harder, compelling her to seize his shoulders and bow her spine. The pleasure, it scorched her from the inside out, throbbing through her flesh and shortening her breaths. She gasped for air, writhed against his hand, and he spread a hand over her back to tug her toward him.

When his mouth sealed over her nipple through her shirt, she cried out.

And then she came. With a sharp spasm, she climaxed against his hand, too breathless to cry out again, too stunned by the suddenness and ferocity of her orgasm. As the pulsating waves inside her dissipated, he pulled his hand out of her panties. They both fought for breath, chests heaving.

She leaned in to kiss him, but he grasped her shoulders and pushed her back, holding her at a distance. A few centimeters, but it felt like an ocean between them.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice uneven and hoarse. "Didn't mean to — This was a mistake."

Flushed all over, her sex drenched and achy, she couldn't focus on anything he said. Despite her orgasm, she burned for more, for him inside her. Overpowered by the need, she laid her hand over his erection where it bulged in his jeans.

"Gotta stop," he said. "Can't do this, not now."

He shoved her off his lap, to the side so she dropped onto the adjacent cushion, and all but leaped off the sofa. A lump in his pants belied the words he spoke next.

"Don't want this," he said, still fighting for breath. "We'd both regret it later."

Sprawled on the sofa, she gaped at him. Was he off his head?

He knifed a hand through his hair. "I need time. Alone. I'm sorry."

Gavin stalked out of the sitting room.

Jamie sat there, dumbfounded and panting, for several minutes before she marshaled the composure to push up off the sofa and straighten her clothes. What had happened? Why had she let it happen? No surprise there. Gavin was gorgeous and sexy, and she never could resist him. She'd slept with him only days after they'd met.

Maybe that had been her first mistake.

She hurried down the hall to the kitchen.

Emery glanced up from perusing the offerings in the refrigerator. Her smile faded swiftly when she took in Jamie's appearance. "What is it, sweetie? You look like you had a good, hot tumble — or at least a good, hot kiss. But your face says you're devastated."

Jamie sucked in a breath, willing away the tears suddenly brimming in her eyes. "We — It was somewhere between a kiss and a tumble. He said it was a mistake and ran out. Says he needs time alone to think. Doesn't know if he loves me or not."

The tears poured down her cheeks, scalding her skin.

Emery enfolded Jamie in her arms, rubbing her back and murmuring consoling words.

Jamie's anguish lessened gradually, swept away by her sister-in-law's understanding and compassion. Emery did know what it was like to love a wounded man. Maybe Jamie ought to listen to her advice.

When Emery pulled away at last, only when Jamie's tears had dried, she said, "How hot was this tumble-kiss?"

Jamie almost smiled remembering it. "We nearly shagged on the sofa."

Emery grinned. "Perfect. I was right, then. Sex is the key to getting inside Gavin's shell."

"He said he doesn't know if he loves me, or if he ever loved me. He told me he didn't want to have sex with me."

"Is that what he actually said?" Hands on her hips, Emery hit Jamie with a pointed look. "Or is that what you assume he was implying? Men are obtuse, and they rarely say what they mean. They've got to dance around it to spare their manly pride."

Jamie blinked rapidly. "You don't think he meant he doesn't love me?"

"I don't know. Only one way to find out."

Shoulders flagging, Jamie groaned. "I'm not as sexy as you are."

"Baloney. You are a super-hot Scottish siren." Emery tucked a lock of hair behind Jamie's ear. "This is your decision, though. You know Gavin better than I do."

"Not sure that's true. He won't talk about his ex-wife, or his parents' deaths, or his time in Afghanistan." Jamie screwed up her mouth. "How am I supposed to seduce him into sharing all of that with me?"

"It's a tough one, I admit." Emery squinted her eyes, her gaze distant. After a moment, she made an ah-ha face and held up one finger. "I've got it. Wednesday is Halloween. Rory and I will throw a party and invite Gavin. I will loan you one of my costumes, a real hot one that will have Gavin panting for you so hard he'll do anything you want. Even spill his guts."

"Emery, that's crazy. I'm not you, I can't do something like that."

"You can, and you will. The question is, are you committed enough to get the job done? I think you are." Emery stepped back. "But it's up to you."

Jamie considered the idea for a moment. Seducing Gavin wouldn't be a trial, that was for sure. Keeping him from taking advantage of her like he had in the sitting room, that might prove more of a challenge. Maybe Emery had a point. Maybe this was a good plan, with a bit of tweaking.

"I'll do it," Jamie said, squaring her shoulders. "I'll make Gavin want me so badly he won't be able to see straight, much less think of reasons to stay away from me. Sex only, no talking or emotional nonsense unless he begs me to listen to his heartfelt apology and confession, followed by a plea for me to marry him."

Emery's mouth opened, but she seemed to have lost her ability to speak.

"Yes," Jamie said with a nod, "this plan is pure dead brilliant."

"That's not quite what I meant," Emery said slowly. "I understand you're hurting, and some payback sounds like a great idea, but sex only? Are you sure you can do that? Screwing a guy without feeling anything, good or bad, is a lot harder than it sounds. I couldn't pull it off when I thought Rory and I were having a one-nighter, and I didn't even know his name at that point."

"I can do it."

Her sister-in-law squashed her lips between her teeth, saying nothing for several seconds. At last, Emery threw her hands up and said, "Okay, if that's what you really want."

"It is."

"You've got my support, you know that." Emery swept an arm in the direction of the doorway. "Now, let's go scarf down ice cream sundaes and hash out the plan for Halloween."