His Heir, Her Secret. Janice Maynard
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Isles. He was wildly successful and obscenely wealthy. Even so, he had insisted his boys get good educations and find their own paths in life. Brody appreciated his father’s contribution to the launch of the boating business, but that financial obligation had been repaid long ago.
Brody ran a hand through his hair. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined his grandmother was going to be such a handful. Whatever happened to sweet, docile old women who knitted and crocheted and went to church on Sundays and let the menfolk take care of them?
“Maybe we should all sleep on this, Granny. Duncan and I are jet-lagged anyway. I vote we enjoy the rest of dinner.”
The caterer entered the dining room bearing a tray of warm apple tarts drizzled with fresh cream. The interruption was timely as far as Brody was concerned. The only reason he and Duncan had been dispatched to North Carolina was to settle their grandmother’s business affairs and bring her home to Scotland.
The chances of that happening were becoming more remote by the minute.
Unpleasant subjects were abandoned over coffee and dessert. Brody allowed himself, for the first time that evening, to truly study Cate. He had hoped his four-month-old recollections of her were exaggerated. Surely her skin wasn’t as soft as he remembered...or her voice as husky.
When she laughed at something Duncan said, Brody actually felt a pain in his chest. She was everything he had dreamed about and infinitely better in person. Which only made his dilemma all the more complicated. He sure as hell couldn’t play fast and loose with a woman his grandmother held in high regard.
Not that it mattered. For some reason Cate had changed. Four months ago she had smiled at him as if she meant it. Now her gaze slid away from his time and again. Even if he wanted her in his bed again—or hers—it seemed unlikely that Cate was on the same page.
By nine o’clock, Isobel was visibly drooping.
Cate noticed, too. She touched the elderly woman on the hand. “I think it’s my bedtime, Miss Izzy. Are you ready to head down the mountain?”
“Soon,” Isobel said. “But since these boys forced my hand, and I’m here, I’d like to walk through the house before I go. Duncan, you come with me. Brody, entertain Cate until I get back.”
When the other two walked out of the room, Brody chuckled. “I swear she doesn’t weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet, but she’s got all of us at the end of a tight leash.”
Cate nodded. “I don’t envy you and Duncan. Changing her mind won’t be easy.”
“And it might be impossible. Which means removing her by force or finding a way to maintain the status quo until it’s her time to go.”
Cate picked up a silver chalice on the mahogany sideboard and studied it intently. “Have you given any thought to relocating for a few years? For her?”
Brody sensed a trap in the question, but he couldn’t pin it down. “My life is in Scotland,” he said flatly. “I’ve spent seven years building my boat business. I need the water. It speaks to me. Nothing here compares.”
“I see.”
He walked around the table that separated them and touched her hair. “I’ll ask again, Cate. Have I done something to upset you?” He wasn’t adept at playing games, and he would have sworn that Cate was not the kind of woman to give a man fits.
“Of course not,” she said, though her tone belied the words.
He took her wrist in a gentle grasp and turned her to face him. “I’ve missed ye, Cate.” Yearning slammed into him with the punch of a sledgehammer. His hands trembled with the need to drag her close and kiss her.
His head lowered. She looked up at him, big-eyed, her gaze a conundrum he couldn’t understand. “I missed you, too,” she whispered.
And then it happened. Maybe he moved. Maybe she did. Suddenly, his mouth was on hers and she was kissing him back. Their lips clung together and separated and mated again. She tasted like apples and pure heaven. His heart pounded. His sex hardened. For a single blinding moment of clarity, he knew this was one of the reasons he had come back to North Carolina. “Cate,” he muttered.
The caterer returned to clear the table, and Cate jerked away, her expression caught somewhere between horror and what appeared to be revulsion...which made no sense at all. They had been good together. Sensational.
Cate swept the back of her hand across her mouth and whispered urgently, “You have lip gloss on your chin.”
He picked up a napkin, wiped his face and looked at the pink stain on the white linen. Before he could say anything, Duncan and Isobel walked into the room.
Brody’s grandmother had been crying...her eyes were red-rimmed. But she seemed calm and at peace. Brody shot his brother a quick glance. Duncan grimaced but nodded. Apparently, all was well.
“We’ll go now,” Cate said.
Isobel followed her through the house and into the front foyer. While Duncan helped the women with their coats, Brody brooded. “I’ll drive you down the mountain,” he said. “It’s dark, and it’s late.”
Cate frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m perfectly capable of negotiating this mountain. Unlike you, I like it here.”
Brody winced inwardly. He hadn’t been wrong. Something was going on with Cate. He lowered his voice. “Will ye walk Granny upstairs and make sure she’s settled?”
“Of course.” Cate pulled away from him and put on her gloves. “I’ve been looking after Miss Izzy for a long time. You people came over for the funeral and left again. She’s important to me. I won’t let her down.”
“The implication being that I’m a disappointment.”
Cate shrugged and lifted her hair from beneath her collar. “If the shoe fits.”
Duncan intervened. “If the two of you can quit squabbling, I think Granny’s ready for bed.”
Isobel spoke up. “I can wait. At my age, I don’t need as much sleep. Besides, watching Brody try to woo Cate is a hoot and a half.”
“There’s no wooing,” Cate protested, her cheeks turning red. “We were merely having a difference of opinion. Cultural differences and all that.”
Now Brody felt his own face flush. “I’m Scottish, not an alien species.”
She sniffed audibly. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? Miss Izzy is a North Carolinian, and so am I. You and Duncan are merely passing through.”
With that pointed remark, Cate ushered Isobel out into the cold and slammed the door behind them.
Duncan whistled long and loud. “What in the hell did you do to piss her off? We haven’t even been in Candlewick twenty-four hours.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brody lied.
“I may be a wee bit younger than you are, but I’ve tangled with my share of fiery lasses. The sexual tension between you and the lovely Cate is nuclear.”
“Don’t call her lovely,” Brody snapped. “Don’t call her anything.”
Duncan rocked back on his heels and wrapped his arms across his chest. “Damn. You’re a fast worker, bro, but even you aren’t that good. Something happened four months ago, didn’t it?”
“None of your business.”
“You messed around with that gorgeous woman and then went home. Cold, Brody. Really cold. No wonder she looks as if she wants to strangle you.”
“It wasn’t like that. Granny introduced us. Cate and I became...close.”
“For the entire four weeks?”
“The last two. It wasn’t anything either of