Page 21 of Rory in a Kilt


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Why did I mention my brother? She doesn't need to know about my family.

Emery pokes me with her knee. "But you were looking for a professional woman to whisk away to your suite last night."

Will she never stop saying that? I punch my pillow, though I have no idea why. "I meant to have a whisky, enjoy the music at the bar, and find a companion for the night. I'd given up on the latter. None of the women I met interested me. Until I saw you."

"Why did you come back this morning?"

Emery and I gaze at each other while she waits for me to answer and I try to come up with a response. Since I can't, I cough and swerve my attention to the window. "I have no idea why I couldn't walk away from you."

She falls silent for a moment, then says, "I'd like to hear more about your family."

Mhac na galla. I punch my pillow again. Link my hands over my belly. Shift in place. Smack my hands down on the sheets.

"If you'd rather not talk about it," she says, "that's okay."

What's the point in refusing to tell her? I already mentioned Aidan.

I rub my forehead. "It's all right. I have two brothers, Aidan and Lachlan, as well as three sisters. They are Fiona, Catriona, and Jamie. Lachlan is the oldest, and Jamie is the youngest. I'm second, after Lachlan."

"What about your parents?"

"Alive and well. Most of my family lives in and around the village of Ballachulish in the Highlands, where we were born and raised." I move only my eyes to glance at her. "What about your family?"

"My parents moved to Australia ten years ago, for my dad's work. My sister, Hadley, got married four years ago and moved to Germany. She has beautiful twin girls."

"You must not see your family often."

"Haven't seen any of them since Hadley's wedding."

I brush the back of my hand over her cheek. "I can't imagine never seeing my family. Must be difficult."

"I get by. But yeah, I miss them a lot. Since losing my job, I feel more alone than ever. I know they didn't want to leave me, but sometimes I feel like an abandoned child. God, I have no idea why I'm telling you this."

She feels alone, like me, though for different reasons. That might explain why I lace my fingers with hers and study our joined hands. "Maybe you sense we have something in common. For quite a while, I've felt…lonely. You've provided a welcome distraction, if an unusual one."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"A compliment. You are unusual in the very best way." I lift an arm, patting the bed between us. Once she snuggles up to me with her head on my chest, I slide an arm around her. "You're also beautiful, brave, sensual, ridiculous at times, and you have a wonderfully strange sense of humor."

Am I glad she's here? If I hadn't come back this morning, I would never have been given the chance to spend a day with her. She seems so different from me, and yet we have meaningful things in common. Loneliness, for one. And a love of family.

But I cannot become involved with her.

"Sleep," I say.

"Like I can do it on command."

"Try." I feel a powerful need to soothe her, so I sift my fingers through her hair in a steady rhythm.

"Admit it, you had a teeny bit of fun today."

"Perhaps a little." I skim my free hand up and down her arm, then bury my face in her hair. "Rest, Emery."

She seems to be having trouble relaxing, and I can think of only one other thing that might help.

I begin to sing softly. "O chì, chì mi na mòr-bheanna, o chì, chì mi na coireachan, chì mi na sgoran fo cheò."

"What is that?" she murmurs. "Doesn't sound like English."

"It's Gaelic. A song my mother taught me, called 'The Mist Covered Mountains.' It's about how bonnie Scotland is."

"Sing to me some more, please. You have a wonderful voice."

I hug her tighter and sing for her while I wonder why my voice seems full of a strange yearning. For too long, I've wondered why I can't find peace—or love. But I don't want the latter, not anymore, and the former hovers out of my reach.

Until tonight. With Emery. The feel of her body, tucked against mine while she drifts off to sleep, affects me more than I care to admit, even to myself. Maybe I can keep her in my life, as long as I set the parameters. And as long as she adheres to my rules.

Aye, I want her. But can I do the unthinkable just to keep her in my bed?

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