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

Chapter Thirty

The next morning, Gavin drove Jamie back to the castle. The place was drowning in Christmas decor, everything from Santa Claus statues that danced and said "ho-ho-ho" to sprigs of holly and decorated trees on every floor. Gavin kissed Jamie goodbye in the vestibule. She headed into the ground floor to her bedroom, to change into fresh clothes. Though she'd offered to be his wingman —" wing-lassie," as she'd put it — during the meeting with Rory, Gavin had politely declined the offer and made her promise to stay away from Rory's office. Gavin didn't need his fiancée's help in dealing with her brother. He could handle this on his own, though he loved Jamie even more for wanting to stand beside him. This was one battle he had to fight alone.

He leaned out the vestibule doorway to watch her sashay down the hall, her round little ass swaying in time with her hips. Waking up with her this morning, with all those curves draped over him and her hair tickling his chest and his cheek, he'd experienced something he'd never known in all his life.

Absolute contentment.

Jamie veered into the dining room, out of sight.

Sighing with deep pleasure, he turned toward the spiral staircase. His gaze traveled up the steps toward the first-floor landing. Rory's office awaited him up there. He'd called this morning to ask if Rory had time to speak with him, and the guy had agreed without any argument or snide comments. He'd simply said, "Be here at ten a.m."

While Gavin drove the Mercedes — oh yeah, he got to drive Rory's car — Jamie had called Emery to tell her about the engagement ring. Emery's shriek had erupted from the phone's speaker and rattled Gavin's ears. Jamie had shrieked in response, all but deafening him. He didn't care. Seeing Jamie so happy made him happy. Ecstatic, actually. He hadn't seen Jamie like this in way too long. The old, ebullient Scottish lassie had returned. His Scottish lassie.

Footsteps on the stairs jerked him out of his reverie.

Trevor Langley waltzed down the spiral staircase, halting at the bottom. He aimed a smug smile at Gavin.

"You again," Gavin said. "Damn, you're worse than athlete's foot."

"Finally worked up the nerve to talk to Rory?" Trevor said. "I've been speaking to him for an hour. He doesn't seem at all frightening to me, but then, I'm not an American."

The English Ass said "American" like it was the worst insult imaginable. Well, to an arrogant prick like him it must seem that way. After all, no one on earth could compare to Sir Trevor Langley, at least in Sir Trevor Langley's eyes.

For the first time since Gavin had met the schmuck, he didn't feel the least bit irked by Trevor's insults. "That's right, I'm an American and proud of it. Winston Churchill's mother was American, you know. Isn't he, like, a hero to you Brits?" Gavin chuckled. "Your half-American icon."

Trevor's eyes narrowed. "Rory's investing in my business venture. That means he'd rather have me around than you. I'll have Jamie too, once she realizes her beloved brother prefers me."

Gavin made a derisive noise. "How dense are you? Jamie's my fiancée."

"She'll call it off, that's what she does. She strings men along until they're caught in her spider's web, then she cuts them loose."

"You're not even worth the effort to argue with." Gavin pushed past him to move onto the second step. "You're pathetic, man. Just pathetic."

Gavin started up the stairs.

Trevor's snickering echoed in the vestibule. "Jamie's a tease, Gavin. She loves a good shag, but commitment isn't her style. Once the novelty wears off, she'll be on the hunt for a new bloke to fuck her like the slag she is."

Fury exploded through Gavin, scorching and unstoppable.

He whirled around, vaulted the three steps to Trevor, and slugged the English Ass in the jaw.

Trevor staggered backward, floundering to grab the staircase railing to keep from tumbling to the floor. Half hanging from the railing, he massaged his jaw and glowered at Gavin.

"You'll pay for this," the English Ass snarled.

Gavin stalked toward the man and bent over to spear the guy with his best steely glare. He spoke in a hushed voice imbued with menace. "If you ever talk about Jamie that way again, I'll pummel you into the ground. Do you hear me? Stay away from her, stay away from this house, and go home to England where you belong."

He seized Trevor by the collar of his shirt, hauled him to the door, and yanked it open.

"Go," Gavin growled.

Trevor's lip curled. "You'll regret this. I have friends in very high places."

"Get out," Gavin snarled. "Walk or crawl, I don't care. But get yourself out the door in the next two seconds or I'll throw you out like the garbage you are."

Trevor scrambled outside on hands and knees.

Gavin slammed the door. The windows rattled.

Movement in the doorway to the hall attracted his attention.

Jamie hovered in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth open.

"Christ, Jamie," he said, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have —"

She rushed across the vestibule, flinging her entire body at him.

He caught her, the feminine scent of her enveloping him. "You're not mad, I take it."

"Mad?" With her arms clamped around his neck and her feet dangling above the floor, she pulled her head back to meet his gaze. "I could have sex with you right now, here in the vestibule with Rory waiting upstairs. No one has ever done anything like that for me."

"Not even Rory, your knight in shining armor?"

"No, Gavin," she said, her voice fierce. "You are my knight in shining armor. Thank you."

"All I did was punch one damn irritating son of a bitch."

"You chased him off. And you did it for me." She mashed her mouth to his in a quick, hard kiss. "You're my hero, not my brothers. You."

A throat-clearing noise from up the stairs made them both crane their necks.

Rory towered above them on the first-floor landing, his expression neutral. "Are we having our meeting, or would you rather skite your fist on Trevor's face again?"

"Hmm," Gavin said, "that is tempting, but no. I'll be right up."

With a curt nod, Rory disappeared into the first floor.

Gavin set Jamie down on her feet, gave her ass a quick squeeze, and kissed her forehead. "You don't need me to protect you, but it's nice to know you appreciate it if I do."

"I love you even more for it."

He strode up the stairs with the love of his life gazing after him like he'd turned into Superman. A minute later, he walked into Rory's office, the old castle library furnished with a huge wooden desk. Rory reclined in a leather executive chair behind the desk.

"Sit," he said, gesturing toward one of the lesser chairs in front of the desk.

Gavin took a seat. "About what happened down there…"

"I'm certain Trevor Langley deserved it." Rory tilted his chair back slightly. "Frankly, I would've loved to do that myself."

"Thought you liked the guy. He sure thinks you do. Told me you're investing in his new business."

Rory grunted. "The man is an erse and an eejit. I listened to him prattle on and on for an hour, telling me about the wondrous opportunity I have to invest in his dimwitted scheme to turn a tiny, ramshackle distillery into a tourist mecca. If he assumed my silence indicated interest, he's mistaken." Rory turned his eyes heavenward and exhaled a long sigh. "I hadn't realized what a right bore the man is. When he was with Jamie, I rarely had contact with him. I can't imagine how my sister could've agreed to marry him."

"She made a mistake. I'm sure he can be suave when he wants to."

"Yes, he can." Rory rubbed his forehead. "He fooled me at first."

Holy mackerel . Rory MacTaggart had admitted to Gavin, the American interloper, that he'd made an error in judgment. Maybe the tide had turned, but he could still drown if he didn't step carefully. "Look, I wanted to apologize for not being real friendly to you and your brothers. I'm sorry. Could we maybe start over?"

Rory studied him without expression for several long seconds.

"I suppose," Rory said at last, "we could do that."

"Thanks, man, I appreciate it."

Rory's lips ticked up at the corners, but he didn't quite smile. "I owe you an apology as well. I haven't been particularly welcoming to you, and what I did at Thanksgiving must've seemed odd to you."

"Yeah, but I get the feeling you had a reason for doing that."

"I should explain."

Gavin held up a hand. "Let me go first. I know it seems like I've been stringing Jamie along, but I wanted to marry her the day we met."

"An inclination I can understand." Rory hooked one ankle atop the other knee and began to rock his chair gently. "I proposed marriage thirty-six hours after meeting Emery. But I'm sure you've heard the stories about our arrangement."

"Kind of hard to miss it splashed all over that dinky little tabloid. What was it called? The Loch Fairbairn Enquirer?"

"Loch Fairbairn World News. Fortunately, the vile toad who owned it has moved on to greener pastures in Liverpool." Rory smiled with a vengeful satisfaction Gavin could relate to. "I hear Graham Oliver has taken up pig raising. Knee-deep in the shit, as always."

"Poetic justice? Gotta love that." Gavin relaxed into his chair, feeling less anxious with Rory sitting there in such a relaxed pose discussing the jerk who'd wronged his wife and gotten his comeuppance. "I used to think you hated me."

"And now?"

"I don't think you hate me, but I can't figure out what you're up to." Gavin paused to think about what to say next, how much he needed to share with Rory. "Look, I've figured out lately why I couldn't make a commitment to Jamie even though I wanted to be with her. I felt like your brother stole my sister, stole my family, and I was like an orphan chucked out on the streets. It was easier to blame you and your brothers for my problems with Jamie than to admit I'm a lame-ass moron who felt abandoned. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

He hadn't realized how embarrassing his confession would be until the words came out of his mouth. His skin crawled, and his throat had gotten tight. He fought the urge to scratch until he drew blood, but the longer Rory sat there staring him down the harder it got to keep from scraping his skin raw. He'd informed one of the most stoic and confident men on earth that he'd felt like an abandoned orphan. Maybe he should give in to total humiliation and start sucking his thumb.

"That must have been difficult to say," Rory told him, "especially to me. I admire your courage."

Admire? Courage? Gavin must've misheard the guy.

"Yes," Rory said like he'd read Gavin's mind, "I've admitted to admiring you. A wee bit. Donnae let it go to your head."

Rory's mouth curved upward into a… Holy shit . The guy was smiling. The closed-mouth expression represented the first time ever Rory MacTaggart had done anything other than glare at Gavin. He considered pumping his fists in the air and hooting, like a goofy victory dance, but he tamped down the impulse.

He had no illusions they'd become friends. Yet.

"None of my loved ones," Rory said, "has ever emigrated to another country. Catriona lived in America for a time, and so did Iain, but those were temporary changes. I suppose I can't understand what it would feel like to have one of my sisters move across the pond permanently."

"I didn't realize how much it would affect me until it happened." Gavin drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair. "It was more than Calli emigrating. I came here and met her new family, all these MacTaggarts who have a kind of bond I've never had with my sister, and I realized I wanted that. But I thought it was too late. Seeing all you guys with your parents… Well, I'm never going to have that. I can change things with Calli, though, and that's what I'm trying to do."

Rory tilted his head to the side, analyzing Gavin. "Has no one told you?"

"Told me what?"

"Your sister talks about you incessantly. She regales us with tales of her heroic brother and his exploits in the Marines, not to mention the childhood stories."

Gavin touched two fingers to his brow, struggling to wrap his mind around the idea. No such luck. His brain couldn't encompass it. "Calli… She talks about me?"

"Yes. She worships you."

Sure, he'd told Calli the PG-13 stories about what he experienced during his stint in the Marines and his tour in Afghanistan. He left out the gory stuff. And the ribald stuff. She'd always listened, but he'd thought she was humoring him and really had no interest in his military days.

He'd misunderstood a hell of a lot.

"Your sister may have emigrated," Rory said, "but she hasn't left you behind."

Rory was being nice. Rory. Nice.

Gavin resisted the urge to glance around and see if Rod Serling was standing in the corner about to narrate this episode of The Twilight Zone .

One word Rory had said triggered his memory. "Speaking of emigrating, Lachlan said I probably need a visa. He said you might be able to help me with that."

"I can."

"Uh, so, will you give me a hand? I'd really appreciate it."

"Yes, I will."

"Thank you."

Rory smiled for the second time in the past ten minutes. "I can't let my sister's fiancé languish in immigration limbo, can I?"

"Guess not." Gavin waved a finger from himself to Rory and back again. "Are we good?"

The smile faded into an inscrutable expression, and Rory bent forward to rest his elbows on the desk. He steepled his fingers under his chin. "It isn't over yet."

And there went the floor, plummeting away from him into the center of the earth. So much for getting on solid ground with Rory.

Still, Gavin had to ask. "In what way?"

"I love my sister very much." Rory squinted at Gavin, his gaze flinty. "I will take whatever measures are necessary to ensure her well-being and happiness."

"Me too." He didn't know what the guy was building up to, but he sensed he wouldn't like it. Stay cool , he reminded himself, don't let Rory get to you again. "What is it you're trying to tell me?"

"How far are you willing to go to prove your worthiness?"

Worthiness? Gavin swallowed a snide retort, clamping his hands on the chair's arms. So much for Rory admiring him.

The guy had said it was only a "wee bit."

And here came the big, honking weight of the rest of Rory's opinion of him.

"Don't assume," Rory said, lowering his hands, "you understand my motivations. Only my wife truly understands me, and she approves of my, as she calls it, 'silly manly nonsense scheme.' In fact, she helped me plan it."

Of course she did. Emery had her mind set on meddling, her way of showing she cared about the outcome. Gavin decided he ought to be more grateful to her, though, considering that Rory without Emery had been a real ogre. Since he found his fourth wife, the guy really had changed. A few months ago, would Rory have let Gavin into his house for a man-to-man talk? No, he probably would've mowed Gavin down with his Mercedes.

So yeah, Gavin was grateful for Emery's meddling.

He let go of the chair's arms, some of the tension dissolving. Whatever Rory had up his neatly pressed sleeve, Gavin could handle it. "Do I get to know what this scheme is?"

"Naturally." Rory surged up from his chair. "This afternoon. Two o'clock."

"You're making me leave and come back later? To pass some test for you?"

"Precisely." Rory balanced his fingertips on the desktop. "But the test is not for me."

"For Jamie."

"No."

Gavin clapped his jaw shut to keep from huffing at Rory. The guy was driving him bonkers. "The test is to convince you I'm worthy of your sister."

Rory's lips twitched like he wanted to smile but held it back. "I told you, it's not for me either."

"Well —" A tiny huff escaped before Gavin squelched it. No frustration, remember? He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Do I get to know who I'm proving myself to?"

He couldn't believe Aidan or Lachlan would care about putting him through some cockamamie test.

Rory walked around the desk to Gavin's chair, gazing down at him from high above. "The reasons for all of this will become clear this afternoon. Do as I ask, and you'll be glad you've done it."

He offered Gavin his hand to shake.

Gavin hesitated for only a second, then shook Rory's hand. It was a quick, firm gesture.

The deal was done. Whatever fate awaited him this afternoon, Gavin would accept it without bitching. He'd swallow any pills Rory handed him, even poisoned ones.

For Jamie, he would do anything.

The office door pivoted inward, and Emery waltzed into the room with a Santa hat balanced on her head at a slight angle and jingle-bell earrings tinkling. Her T-shirt featured a cute kitten snuggled under a Christmas tree. She slipped an arm around Rory's waist, gazing up at him with unmistakable adoration. "How'd it go?"

"We have an appointment for two o'clock."

Emery glanced at Gavin. "Don't worry, it'll be fun."

Fun? Gavin didn't know if Rory's idea of a good time would prove healthy for him. To be fair, though, he didn't know Rory very well and vice versa. He'd resolved to change that, and apparently, Rory would give him that chance after this mysterious test.

Anything Rory threw at him, he could handle. Even if it involved a tutu and singing in falsetto. Every second of ridicule would be worth it to give Jamie what she really wanted — for Gavin to get along with her brothers.

To become a part of this family, he'd have to pass The Test.

"Jamie's waiting for me," Gavin said. "Nice to see you, Emery. Rory, I'll see you at two o'clock."

Rory nodded. "Mrs. Darroch will instruct you where to go once you arrive."

Emery regarded him with an unsettling interest, like she had inside information she wouldn't divulge to Gavin.

At the doorway, Gavin paused to glance back at Rory. "Mind if me and Jamie borrow the Mercedes for a few more hours? I want to take her shopping in the village."

Emery clapped her hands and grinned. "Shopping! Fun. She'll love that."

Rory shook his head at his wife's enthusiasm, his lips taut with a humor he didn't try very hard to repress. "I promise to take you shopping tomorrow, Em."

"Oh goodie." She clapped again. "I love to blow my hubby's money."

"And your hubby," Rory said with a hint of sarcasm, "loves to watch you blow his money."

Rory had changed a heck of a lot, Gavin realized. Once upon a time, in the pre-Emery days, Gavin had joked that Rory ought to unchain his wallet and live a little. Rory had responded, "I save money, I don't spend it frivolously." Post-Emery, the guy let his wife buy whatever she wanted, no matter how much it cost. Hell, he encouraged Emery to spend his dough.

Still gazing lovingly at his wife, Rory said, "Take the Mercedes for as long as you like."

His wife made an O with her lips and hopped up on her toes. "I have a better idea. Gavin and Jamie should take the Jag."

Rory's eyes narrowed, but then he relaxed and nodded. "A fine idea."

Gavin opened his mouth but couldn't cobble together words. A fine idea? Lending the Mercedes was one thing, but the Jaguar Rory had given his wife as a wedding present?

Rory leaned back across the desk, without releasing his wife, and retrieved a keyring from a drawer. He tossed the ring to Gavin.

Still dumbfounded, Gavin fumbled the catch. The keyring hit the floor, and he scooped it up. The ring held one key emblazoned with the Jaguar logo.

"Thanks, man," Gavin said. "Jamie'll love this."

"I'm sure you won't enjoy it at all," Rory said with a glint of humor in his eyes and on his face.

"Oh no," Gavin assured him, "I'll enjoy it. This is awesome. Thanks, you guys."

While Emery hopped up and down and clapped some more, Gavin walked out of the office headed for the vestibule where the only woman he'd ever really loved waited for him.

And later, whether he liked it or not, he'd find out what "test" Rory had planned for him.