it was unfair to be jealous of his fiancée. Perhaps after a while she’d get used to having Sylvia around and even like her, who knew? But she and Brad had always been self-sufficient, never needing or wanting anyone but each other when they were together. Even Colin, her beloved brother, had sometimes been de trop. And even though years often went by without seeing one another, as soon as they were back together again the same natural intimacy and easy camaraderie established itself, just as it had now.
Charlotte lifted the casserole with the oven gloves and brought it to the table.
“Smells wonderful,” Brad remarked, sniffing appreciatively. “I’m still trying to grasp the fact you can cook.” He sat opposite her at the pine table and poured more wine.
“I recently became interested. It’s creative if you don’t follow recipes too closely. I let my imagination flow. The only trouble is, I never remember exactly what I did the time before, so the dish never comes out quite the same. That can be good or bad, depending,” she added wrinkling her nose and spooning a large helping onto his plate.
He laughed, relaxed, and tasted.
“Like it?” Charlotte waited anxiously for his verdict, annoyed that it should mean so much.
“This is haute cuisine, man. You should open a restaurant.”
She flushed with pleasure, barely eating, the sight of his obvious enjoyment nourishment in itself. “Last time I made you a meal you refused to eat it.”
“Yeah, well, you can hardly blame me. An outdated can of baked beans and three-day-old toast.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“No, it was worse. The beans were cold.”
“Yuck! That’s disgusting, Brad, and a complete lie.” She giggled, realizing she hadn’t spent such a happy, relaxed evening in ages. “Do you remember the summer we got stuck up in the chimney at the factory in Limoges, trying to find remnants of the radio that Dex operated during the war?”
“Do I remember?” he said with feeling. “That’s one of the few times he belted me, good and proper. And it was all your fault for climbing up too high.”
“Dex beat you?” she asked, amused yet surprised. He’d never told her about the punishment.
“He was waiting for me when I walked in the door. I could hardly sit down for a week.”
“You never said anything.”
“Nope. I took it like a man.” He winked at her and grinned. “You don’t really think that at twelve I would have admitted to you that I got the living shit beaten out of me, do you?”
“I guess not. It’s rather sweet.” She grinned, struck with insight. “You didn’t tell me ’cause you didn’t want me to feel bad.”
“Nah, I was just being tough.”
“I know you, Brad. You were always such a gentleman. You probably thought that I’d get in trouble too if you didn’t take all the blame.”
“Something like that,” he admitted with a shrug and a smile. “What a meal, Charlie. I’ll be over here every day and putting on weight if I’m not careful.”
“Well, you’ll be able to take it off working out on that fancy equipment sitting in the hall at Strathaird,” she replied tartly. “Are you planning to transform the old conservatory into a gym?” she asked sweetly, hiding the edge in her voice.
“I guess that might not be a bad idea.” He’d forgotten the offending gym equipment.
“Three large crates. Addressed to Hansen.”
“I suppose Syl must have had it shipped.” He gave an embarrassed laugh.
“Seems a big investment if you’re only planning to spend a few weeks here a year.”
“Syl’s really into health and exercise. She works out for a couple of hours a day, weights and all that. It’s an important part of her lifestyle. She takes great care of her diet, too.”
“I see.” Charlotte nodded sagely. “Then I’ll have to be careful what I cook if she comes over for dinner, won’t I?” she said, getting up and clearing the plates with a sassy smile that far from portrayed her mood. “Pudding? Or should I say dessert?” She corrected herself with an American twang.
“What’ve you got?” he asked, eyeing her with a suspicious grin as he carried the rest of the dishes to the sink. Their hands touched when he handed her the remains of the lamb, sending shivers up her spine.
“I have trifle,” she said in a rush. What on earth was the matter with her? It was ridiculous to feel tingly just because Brad had touched her hand. Surely she wasn’t so desperate for a man that now even her oldest pal turned her on? She quickly scraped the dish, then left it in the sink before extracting the bowl of trifle from the fridge.
Neither noticed the time as they chatted and reminisced over dessert, followed by coffee and brandy. Old, long-forgotten stories, fond memories and shared secrets made them laugh or seek unspoken understanding in each other’s eyes, and it was past midnight by the time Brad regretfully glanced at his watch.
“Geez, it’s late. I hope Aunt Penn left the door open.”
“If not, the key’s under the mat.”
“Isn’t that rather obvious?”
“So much so that nobody would ever think of looking. Plus, we’ve never had a break-in at the castle—or in the area, for that matter,” she added proudly. “That’s one positive aspect about living in a remote area like this, you can’t beat the security.”
Brad rose reluctantly, loath to exchange the convivial warmth of Charlotte’s kitchen for his solitary bed in the master chamber, which Penelope had insisted he take now that he was the laird. He watched her, flushed and relaxed, eyes bright from wine, cooking and conversation. If anything, time had rendered her lovelier and the sudden urge to feel her close made him clamp down his self-control. But his eyes lingered on her high cheekbones and that incredibly silky white skin. Suddenly the years fell away, and he saw her lying pliant and wanting in his arms, stretched on the couch in Dex’s flat as he lowered his lips to hers.
Blowing out a breath, he fiddled in his pocket for his car keys and took a step back. “I guess I won’t need to lock the car here either,” he remarked, dangling the keys thoughtfully and laughing to cover his embarrassment. “Good night, Charlie. Thanks for a great evening.”
She opened the front door and leaned against the door-jamb watching him. “Good night, Brad.”
For a moment they stood in awkward silence, then he took her into his arms and gave her a friendly hug. “You take care, kiddo. I wish you hadn’t left the castle, but so be it.”
She mumbled something incomprehensible into his shirtfront, then reached up and touched his cheek. “Good luck as the new laird, Brad.”
“I’m still counting on your help, you know.” His eyes reached deep into hers.
She hesitated, then nodded and smiled,
