Chapter 24—A Step Back In Time II

The cool wind whipped at Ivette’s hair and she tucked a dark lock behind her ear. Knees wobbly, she shifted from foot to foot, silently though, so as not to disturb Cian.

He had not moved an inch or said a word since he’d placed the flowers upon their headstones that had several other similar bouquets arranged around them, causing the area to resemble a flower garden. He stood motionless, eyes vacant. Though he said nothing, she felt his grief from feet away. The pain emanating from him was palpable and she blinked back the sting of tears she felt behind her eyes.

She thought about her parents. She had grown up alone, even when they had been with her, but it didn’t mean she didn’t love them or miss them. She couldn’t imagine what it felt like for Cian, whose family had been closely knitted.

Never had she wanted to console someone so much. She wanted to place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze lightly. She wanted to hold him and say things she didn’t know—anything to reduce the grief she could feel rolling off him.

But she couldn’t get her feet to move from where they had been planted in the soft grass. She looked away, breathing shallowly. She should have stayed in the car. Her heart was a mess. Hell, her head was the garbage truck.

The sound of rustling grass had her looking up from her sandals to find Cian strutting over to where she stood. His gaze flicked over her and she was surprised at the light in his eyes. The edge that had been in them earlier was gone and replaced with. . .peace.

“You’ve been coming here every day,” Ivette said, following his trail down the hilltop. It wasn’t nearly comfortable, walking down the steeped path on heeled sandals, but it wasn’t like she’d had a choice. Fiona had offered to take her shopping to get new clothes, but she had declined the offer, uncomfortable with the idea of spending money that wasn’t hers. Staying with them and eating their food was boundary enough. She didn’t want to cross lines by making demands.

It wasn’t that bad. Well, except for her rump that always seemed to protrude from Fiona’s gowns. She was on a more curvy side than the female. It made the clothes hug her rather tightly, showcasing. . .well. . .everything.

“Aye,” Cian said, turning so suddenly, she nearly walked into him. She backed up a swift step before her chest could collide with his, and she tipped her head back to peer into his face. The golden flecks in his eyes danced as he said, “Contrary to your thoughts, lass, I was’na avoiding you. You think such ridiculous things with that pretty head of yours.”

The compliment was not lost on her and she blinked twice, the only tell that she had been destabilized. “Don’t look at me like that,” she whispered, but there was no fight or protest in her voice.

“I can’t help it, lass.”

His jaw tightened as he took a step closer, and though Ivette knew it would be a great idea to move, she stayed put, watching. Waiting. So much for despising being a princess.

“You look beautiful today,” he said, hot gaze singing her. His voice was beautiful, as was the man. How could she keep fighting him? Resisting him? Maybe Riley was right. Her second closest friend supported the notion that the longer you resist a man, the stronger the pull to him.

Perhaps, she could get it over with and bang him again. It’d been a while since she had been touched that way. Perhaps. . .she could walk to his room down the hall tonight and. . .Fucking hell.

She swerved around him and sucked in her lower lip when she was sure he couldn’t see her. He laughed like he knew what she was thinking. Her cheeks burned, but she refused to look back or mutter the cusses at the tip of her tongue.

They were in a freaking graveyard! Blushing and thinking vile things in a graveyard? She really must be losing her mind.

****

“What is happening?!” Ivette exclaimed, watching the ruckus with pure fascination. She had expected a lot of things from the famous CG Enterprise—has spied photos of its buildings scattered about countries from the tabloids. Here, in Scotland, was its headquarters.

She had always wondered how he could have beaten them every single year, topping the list. He ran a long chain of hotels and real estate firms, but a lot of people did that. None had ever been quite as successful as he was. She’d made a promise once to find out why.

And now, she was standing in it. It looked more imposing in person, the building, but the people. . .she didn’t quite get it. Everyone moved about in a dash, yelling joyfully as they did. There was a flurry of activities going on before her eyes, but it had absolutely nothing to do with work.

Canopies were being set up, and clothes were being given out. Plaids, tartans, riding boots and pants—it was a fair.

Cian smiled slightly. “We hold four of these every year,” he paused, peering down at himself and he frowned. “It would seem I am overdressed for the occasion.”

He parted a way through the crowd that kept calling out to him and greeting him in a way her employees would never dare to greet her or her father.

“Boss! This color would look great on you!” An older woman said with a bright smile as she held up a plaid skirt. Yes. A fucking skirt.

“Thank you, Mia,” Cian said, taking the skirt from her. On and on, he went from stall to stall, and Ivette followed behind him, watching his interaction with several of his employees. It was with no small surprise that she realized they loved him.

Why wouldn’t they? He knew all of them, all of their names. He cared in a way she had never thought possible between bosses and workers. There was such warmth, love, and joy in the atmosphere that Ivette didn’t mind that he kept dumping the things he took from each stall in her arms like she was some secretary.

“John,” he said to a man who was nearly as broad and tall as he was with brown hair and green smiling eyes. Jerking his head in Ivette’s direction, he said, “Take those from the lass. Send it to my address—has Rosalind reported in for work today?”

“Nay,” John said, taking the things from Ivette. Her gaze rose from the clothes and shoes she handed over to him, to find the man’s eyes on her, taking her in with heated eyes. He was pretty hot too.

Ivette felt like she had landed on another part of the world where only hotties existed, and from the looks of it, this one was well aware of his wiles. His tongue darted out to lick his lower lip and his thumb purposefully brushed the curve of her wrist. “New secretary?”

Ivette cocked a brow, amused by the abashed display. “And if I was?” She said slowly, drawing out her tone into something beguiling and flirty, just because she knew Cian was right there, watching the exchange with a foul look on his face.

John’s thin lips tilted into a dazzling smile that had no doubt earned him places in the hearts of countless women—and their beds. “I would offer to show you around. The ranches, the vast land beyond, and perhaps, the rooms.”

He emphasized on the word ‘room’, a silent message underlying in his voice, but Ivette’s ears had perked up on the word ‘ranches’.

“There’s a ranch here?” She asked, unable to keep the brimming excitement within her from rising to the surface.

“Aye. Outback. I will show them to you if you—“

Cian’s arm went around her shoulder and he pulled her back. “Nay, John. Be off on your way and keep your eyes off the lass.”

John shot Cian a cocky grin and winked at Ivette before walking off. Her skin tingled from where his fingers wrapped around her shoulder, but she didn’t move out of his grasp. It felt good. Being held. Being here. “Why did you send him away? I do want to see the ranch.”

His expression was dark with jealousy, and Ivette bit down on her lower lip to keep from laughing. Men. “I will show the ranch to you,” he paused, gaze flicking over her form. “But you are hardly dressed for a ride.”

Ivette giggled excitedly and laughed out loud when Cian grimaced at the loud squeal. It had been years since she went riding. Work and targets had prevented her from doing much else. Aaron too. Her heart raced with excitement just thinking about it.

But her smile faltered when she noted the curious looks from the people around her. It wasn’t her they were looking at. It was Cian’s arm banded around her shoulder like some unspoken claim on her. She jerked from him. “You’re sure it is safe to be out in the open this way? What if someone sees me and recognizes me? What if it gets out that I am. . .here? With you?”

“My employees know better than to pry into my affairs, and they are much too busy to seek clout on the internet.”

“But—“

Cian turned, grinning down at her. “This is my home, Ivette. I assure you that you are safe here. On that note, let’s get you some riding clothes. I sure hope you ride as hard as you hit.”

“Oh my God!” Ivette squealed at the innuendo and slapped his forearm playfully. A rare smile bloomed on his lips and his fingers suddenly captured hers in a swift motion as he tugged her along.

She allowed it, tightening her fingers around his. It was strange and new, but it felt right.