we…got married?’ Layla asked. The word was still a novelty to her, even though she wore his ring on her left hand.
‘I sent an email. I gave up on the phone—he hardly ever gets back to me when I call or text.’ The weariness in Logan’s tone spoke of a long and frustrating history between him and his younger brother. ‘I told him we’d formed a relationship and decided to get married.’
Nerves in Layla’s stomach unfurled and fluttered their razor-sharp wings. It was going to be difficult to convince his brother their marriage was genuine when Logan was so determined to keep his distance from her. ‘But he would have seen the will, surely? Won’t he have already put two and two together?’
‘It’s immaterial what he thinks. It doesn’t change the fact our marriage is legal.’
Layla bit down on her lower lip. ‘I’ll try not to let you down.’
He flashed her the briefest of rueful smiles but it didn’t take the shadows out of his eyes. ‘That seems to be my job. Letting people down.’
Logan helped Layla out of the car a short time later, placing his arm around her waist as his brother sauntered over to them. She nestled against his side and he caught a whiff of the flowery fragrance of her hair, stirring his senses, making him long to bury his head in those silky chestnut tresses as he had when they had made love. He tried to block the images of that night but they flashed up in his mind, causing his blood to pound and thicken, dragging at his lower body with a tight primal ache.
Robbie swept his gaze over them with an elevation of his eyebrows. ‘Well, well, well, what have we here? Congratulations, Layla. You’ve landed yourself quite a catch. For a simple charwoman, that is.’
Logan felt Layla stiffen beside him and he wanted to thump his brother for being such a snobbish jerk. He drew her closer to his side and sent his brother a warning look. ‘If you don’t treat my wife with respect you won’t be welcome here, Robert. Got that?’
‘Your wife?’ Robbie threw his head back and laughed. ‘You expect me to believe you two are the real deal?’
‘We have the documentation to prove it,’ Logan said. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us. Layla is tired from travelling and—’
‘I bet you put the old man up to it,’ Robbie said, addressing Layla with a curl of his lip. ‘You’ve always had the hots for my big brother. But he would never have looked at you without some serious arm twisting. And it doesn’t get more serious than his precious Bellbrae hanging in the balance.’
Logan was ashamed to hear his brother voice his own earlier thoughts over his grandfather’s changes to his will. And as to Layla’s interest in him, well, it was more than reciprocated. And if he were to be honest with himself, that spark of attraction had started way earlier than the afternoon in the north tower. Way, way earlier.
‘Layla had nothing to do with Grandad’s will being changed. If anyone is to blame for that it’s me. I’ve taken way too long to get on with my life after losing Susannah. But the time is right now and I can’t think of a better person to marry than Layla, who loves this place as much as I do.’
‘Personally, I don’t get what either of you see in this place,’ Robbie said, throwing the castle a look of distaste. ‘It’s old and cold and too far away from any action. You’re welcome to it. And to each other.’
Layla’s cheeks were a bright shade of pink and yet he was proud of the way her chin came up and her grey-green gaze stared his brother down. ‘I know our marriage must’ve come as a complete surprise to you, Robbie, but Logan and I have always been friends. I hope, in time, you can be happy for us.’
Robbie’s smile was cynical. ‘I’ve seen the will. I know what this is—a marriage of convenience to secure Bellbrae. My brother will never love you, Layla. He’s not capable of it.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Layla said. ‘He’s capable of much more than you give him credit for.’
‘I think it might be time for you to leave,’ Logan said to his brother. ‘We’re still on our honeymoon and three’s a crowd and all that.’
Robbie tossed his car keys in the air and deftly caught them, his expression mocking. ‘I give you guys a year, tops.’
That’s all I want, Logan thought.
And Logan led Layla into the castle without a backward glance as his brother roared down the driveway with a squeal of tyres over the gravel.
LAYLA LOOKED AT Logan once the door was closed on their entry into the castle. His expression was thunderous and a muscle kept flicking in his cheek.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
He let out a rough-edged sigh and shrugged himself out of his jacket and hung it on the coat rack near the entrance. ‘I’m sorry about that. My brother can be a prize jerk sometimes. Most of the time, actually.’
‘It’s okay.’ She began to unbutton her own coat. ‘Our relationship must’ve come as a bit of a shock. I mean, you and me? It’s a bit of a stretch to think you would ever be—’
His hand came down in a gentle press on the top of her shoulder, his expression softening. ‘Don’t keep doing that. You’re a beautiful and desirable woman and if things were different, I would…’ He pressed his lips together as if determined not to voice the words out loud.
‘Would what?’ Layla’s voice was barely more than a whisper.
His navy-blue eyes darkened and his other hand came down on her other shoulder. She wasn’t sure who moved first but suddenly they were standing almost chest to chest and hip to hip. The quality of the air changed—a tension was building, crackling, fizzing like a current of electricity singing along a wire. His gaze dipped to her mouth and she heard the intake of his breath. Held her own breath as his head lowered as if in slow motion, down…down…down…
‘Oh, sorry to be a gooseberry!’ Aunt Elsie’s cheery lilt sounded from the right of the foyer. ‘How did the wedding and honeymoon go?’
Logan stepped back but kept one of Layla’s hands in his. ‘It was short but wonderful.’
Aunt Elsie beamed like she was intent on solving an energy crisis for the whole of Scotland. ‘Well, it wasn’t long enough to my way of thinking, which is why I’m going to go on a wee holiday of my own to give you two lovebirds some space.’
Lovebirds? If only. And since when had her great-aunt ever left Bellbrae?
Layla looked at her great-aunt as if she had just said she was going to tap dance on the castle roof. Naked. ‘But where will you go? You haven’t been on a holiday since I don’t know when.’
‘Which is why I’m going now,’ Aunt Elsie said. ‘I’ve booked myself a few days in the Outer Hebrides—on the Isle of Harris to start with. I’ve an old pen-pal from school who lives there. Her husband passed away recently
