Kilty Pleasures Read online

  “So, my uncle sold them some land?” It didn’t seem like something Kieran MacAlister would do, but then again, seeing all this meant anything was possible.

  “Actually, no. He built the entire complex with his own money and utilized local workers to do it.” She pointed toward the largest of the four structures. “My brothers, AJ and Malcolm, built that one all by themselves.”

  They stepped up onto the wooden walkway connecting the buildings into one complex. “How many businesses are we talking about here?”

  “Six permanent and an additional three during the summer.”

  “I take it they all have leases?”

  She stopped short, and he nearly ran into her from behind. He grasped her shoulders to steady them both and was immediately aware of the change in her body language.

  Had his simple question offended her?

  “Yes,” she said firmly, “they have leases.”

  “Did my question upset you in some way?” Being on the same wave length with Aileen was important to him for more reasons than just business.

  “I won’t hedge. Since your uncle’s passing, the tenants are worried. This is their livelihood, and they’re concerned you’re going to sell out to someone less agreeable than your uncle.”

  A quick chuckle escaped him. “My uncle…agreeable. There’s a concept I’d never imagined.”

  “I’m aware of his reputation. He could be a cranky old man when he wanted to be. However, your father’s death, combined with the devastation of the storm, loosened up his usually tight reserve. He saw a chance to make amends for his years of pushing folks away and he took it.”

  He closed his eyes briefly, conjuring up the gruff, stand-offish uncle he’d always known. Were he not seeing the end result with his own eyes, Ronan doubted he would have believed Kieran capable of such an emotional turnaround. As admirable a change as it was, the development of MacAlister Estates put a definite crimp in his original plan to get-in and get-out as quickly as possible.

  “I have no immediate plans to do anything with the property. At least not until I meet with the attorney and have a chance to go over everything with a fine-tooth comb.”

  “I can make the books available for your review whenever you’re ready. Kieran kept everything up at the farmhouse.”

  “He didn’t level the old place while they were building?”

  She shook her head and pointed to a service road leading away from the food co-op. “Other than a coat or two of paint and a few new pieces of furniture, it’s the same old place.”

  Chapter Three

  Aileen let Ronan’s assurance of “no immediate plans” sink in. The thought allowed her to relax if only a bit. Perhaps once he took a look at their long-range business plan and the possibility for future growth, he’d be even more inclined to hold onto the business rather than sell it to a total stranger. If she accomplished little else, she needed to impress him with the company’s sound standing, as well as her own abilities as the manager.

  She led the way through the door of the first of the four permanent businesses. Ronan followed closely on her heels. So close, in fact, if she were to stop suddenly, they’d easily collide.

  The idea was not without merit. Just the thought of his big body pressed against hers was enough to send her pulse into overdrive. She took an extra step forward, away from temptation.

  “This main building houses two year-round businesses,” she explained. “The largest being the food co-operative.”

  “And the other?”

  “The Woolery is a from-scratch mill. They shear their own sheep, dye and card their own wool, and create some of the most beautiful items of clothing and blankets in all of New England.”

  He picked up a jar of homemade pickles and turned it over in his hand. “I’d have thought the food co-op would only run during the summer and fall when the produce is fresh.”

  She took the jar from his hand, purposely letting her fingertips linger against his wrist a moment longer than necessary. “What they don’t pickle or can to sell in the fall and winter, they purchase in volume in order to offer the best price. Plus, the bakery section thrives no matter the time of year. The co-op does close down during the months of January and February, mostly due to the inclement weather.”

  They crossed from the first building to the next. Smaller than the food co-op, the craftsmanship was just as impressive. Ronan held the door, his hand at her back as she walked through. Her breath caught when a shiver ran up the length of her spine.

  She could have sworn she heard him chuckle.

  A deer’s head hung from the wall directly opposite the door. On the closest counter, two mounted animals awaited pick up by their owners.

  “A taxidermist,” he said when they’d cleared the entryway. “I’m guessing he’ll be busy for the next few months.”

  “Yes,” Aileen agreed, pausing for emphasis, “she will.”

  “Ah, there I go, being sexiest again.” He casually brushed his open palm against her arm. “Shame on me.”

  Aileen hastened her steps, putting a bit more distance between them. “The fourth business belongs to my brother, AJ. He makes hand-carved furniture.”

  They stepped through the last door, and Ronan stopped beside a large table. He ran his hand across the fine wood in much the same fashion as the way he’d touched her arm. Goose bumps rose up on her forearm in response.

  He turned full circle in the room, giving one last nod of appreciation. “After we’re done here, I’d like to go up to the farmhouse and settle in. I’ve got some calls to make, and given I’ve got really spotty cell service, I’ll need to make them from Kieran’s landline.”

  She nodded and then shot him a quick smile of understanding. “If you don’t need me to go with you, I’ll stay here and set up a meeting with all the tenants for next Monday after your appointment with the attorney. I’m also waiting on a lumber delivery for my brother’s store.”

  “I’m sure I can find it on my own.”

  They exited AJ’s store and walked back to Ronan’s rental car. “The key is under the flower pot on the right step, and I stocked the fridge with some fresh food,” she told him. “You’ll be happy to know, your uncle upgraded his Internet as well. You shouldn’t have any problem getting online.”

  “Thank you.”

  His softly given, sincere, thanks retriggered the racing of her pulse. Did he use the same enticing tone when making love? The urge to ask sat perched on the tip of her tongue.

  “The only other buildings on the property are the cabins,” she added, hoping even the smallest conversation would delay his departure.

  Confusion lifted his dark brows. He glanced around the main complex as if looking for another building or a hidden road. “The cabins?”

  “Your uncle built six cabins along the shoreline. The local boys’ and girls’ groups use them in the summer to learn camping and survival skills. We also hold practices there for the statewide Highland games.”

  “I remember the games. Vaguely.” He paused. “Didn’t your brothers compete?”

  “Malcolm still does. AJ coaches now.”

  “So what happens to the cabins at the end of summer?”

  “In the fall, they are usually rented out to hunters. However, after Kieran’s death, we weren’t sure about taking reservations.”

  “I suppose I should take a look at them before Monday.”

  “If you’d like, I can meet you at the farmhouse around eleven tomorrow morning and drive you up there.”

  He shrugged, but the light in his eyes betrayed his nonchalance. “I can go myself, if you’ve got something else to do.”

  She rested her hand against the hood of the fancy sedan. “This car wouldn’t make it past the first incline. I’ll bring my four-wheel drive. We’ll need it for the trek up the mountain. I’ll also bring some lunch.”

  ****

  At half-past ten the next morning, Aileen slid behind the wheel of her SUV and set the lunch baske
t on the seat next to her. A half-inch of snow covered the ground with a prediction of at least two inches accumulation. Not the best weather for mid-October, but not the worst they’d seen.

  How will Ronan handle the unexpected snowfall? His fancy Italian loafers won’t last long in this slosh. She mentally shushed her inner voice. Yet, the picture she’d conjured up of Ronan in nothing more than a pair of muddy wellies refused to leave.

  He was standing on the porch when she arrived at the farmhouse, his dark hair tousled haphazardly by the early morning breeze, a mug of coffee cradled in his big hands. He had a well-worn MacAlister tartan blanket wrapped around his broad shoulders. And much to her delight, a pair of Kieran’s old wellies on his feet.

  “Good morning,” she called out once she’d stepped out onto the drive. “Welcome to the Northeast.”

  His deep chuckle closed the distance between them. “I’m certain this is why my father never brought us here after Labor Day.”

  “We’re expecting a couple of inches by day’s end. As long as you’ve got a decent jacket and…ah…those fancy boots, you should be okay.”

  He glanced down at the mud-covered wellies. “Attractive aren’t they? They’ll go good with the scratchy plaid jacket on the hook by the door.”

  “We should probably get a move on,” she suggested. “It’ll be good to be off the mountain in case the snow turns to freezing rain.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He slipped through the door and then reappeared seconds later with Kieran’s plaid jacket in hand.

  “Buckle up. The service road up to the cabins is not much more than a couple of ruts in the dirt.”

  “Why so rustic? Surely they could have paved a proper road during construction.”

  They hit the first bump and the car lurched to the side. “We discussed it, of course. In the end, Kieran decided to leave it as is to avoid unwanted visitors. The whole idea was to teach the kids survival skills. So they hike in and out. Of course, in an emergency, any vehicle with four-wheel drive or traction control can make the trip.”

  “Why aren’t we hiking?” he asked.

  With the tips of two fingers, she plucked at the expensive gray trousers he wore. “One of us is overdressed.” She cast him a smile. “Do you even own a pair of jeans?”

  “Of course I do. I just didn’t bring any with me.”

  “Besides, if we want to beat the snow back down the mountain, driving is a much faster option.”

  The closer they came to the cabins, the rougher the road became. The heavy SUV jostled from side to side. She spared a quick glance in Ronan’s direction. He held tightly to the handle grip above his head. His left hand was splayed against the dash for balance.

  Just the sight of his long fingers set her senses on full alert. Wicked thoughts of all the ways they could touch her ratcheted up her heart rate and sent a shot of warmth through her entire body.

  Her breath came out in short, staccato puffs, a mixture of adrenaline from negotiating the uneven road and sheer excitement caused by her decadent thoughts.

  “Are we almost there?”

  His question pulled her back to reality with a jolt. “Yes, just around the next bend.”

  She made the last hairpin turn and gave the SUV one final shot of gas, coming to a stop in front of the main cabin.

  Ronan jumped from inside the car like a man shot out of a cannon. “That has to be the worst road I’ve ever been on, bar none.”

  She stifled a chuckle and then pursed her lips to keep a full blown laugh inside. “You think that was bad? Just wait until we start back down.”

  An exaggerated roll of his dark brown eyes drew another short laugh.

  They made a quick inspection of the smaller cabins that sat on the bluff overlooking the water. Identical in style and size, empty other than the barest furniture, they prompted little discussion.

  “The main building is used for a number of things,” she explained as they walked back toward the two-story log cabin. “The first floor houses a great room, a formal dining room, the kitchen and a full bath. We’ve hosted business meetings, baby showers, and even a small wedding.”

  She unlocked the door and they stepped across the threshold. “Upstairs there are four bedrooms and another bathroom.”

  He glanced across the expanse of the main floor. “The rock work on the fireplace is fantastic.”

  “It’s more of AJ’s handiwork.” She motioned toward a door to the side of the great room. “There’s also a master bedroom and bath through there. Kieran used it whenever he came up for a visit. It was once a honeymoon suite. Other than that, we keep it locked.”

  “I’d like to see it.”

  She crossed the hardwood floor of the great room and slid the key into the lock. “Here you go. As you can see, it’s rather sparse. A bed, a rocking chair, one dresser, a nightstand. Your uncle didn’t go in for frills. Although, everything is handmade.”

  “Kieran was always more about quality than quantity.” He nodded toward the bed. “I see he left his kilt.”

  “This isn’t his…at least not one that he wore. I think he intended to have it framed and hung above the mantle for decoration.” She fingered the finely stitched garment. “This would have never fit him. He liked his potatoes and baked goods far too much.”

  Ronan reached out and ran his fingers across the hem of the well-made kilt. A serious expression altered his features, as if he were pulling up a memory of his uncle. He blinked once, twice, then shot her a smile and quick wink. “That reminds me. I’m starving. If I remember correctly, you brought lunch.”

  “It’s in the car.”

  “Why don’t you grab the food, and I’ll start a fire? It’s a bit on the chilly side in here.”

  Thoughts of Ronan in front of a roaring fire sent a flush to her cheeks, a warmth to her belly. “We should probably head back soon.”

  He gave a fleeting glance out the window. “The snow’s stopped. We’ve got some time. I’d like to take a good look around the rest of this building and maybe do an inventory.”

  “If you check the bottom drawer of your uncle’s dresser, there may be a bottle of wine.”

  “Is that part of the inventory? Or, are you trying to get me drunk?”

  She shrugged. “Whichever. Maybe both.”

  Chapter Four

  Ronan retrieved the bottle of cabernet from his uncle’s stash and pulled the cork. Aileen was giving him some enticing signals…at least it seemed like it. Given his body’s immediate reaction, he hoped he wasn’t reading her wrong.

  He busied himself with building a fire from the logs and kindling in the basket beside the hearth. Once he’d finished, he crossed the great room and drew the curtains closed.

  Setting a romantic mood, are you? Ronan gave his pesky conscience a nudge and turned the lock on the cabin door.

  The soft “ding” of the microwave proceeded the heavenly aroma of pungent spices. Aileen reached for dishes on the shelf above her head, the stretch of her arms outlining her curvy figure, lifting her lush bottom. His stomach growled with an appreciation that had little to do with food.

  “So,” he asked, “what’s for lunch?”

  “Beef stew, salad, and homemade biscuits with butter and honey. I put the kettle on for tea and there are sodas and bottled water in the fridge.”

  “I’ve decanted the wine. It should go nicely with the stew.”

  She graced him with another of her smiles. His cock stood up proudly inside his wool trousers, begging to be noticed.

  “We can eat here at the table or over by the fire whichever you prefer.”

  He nodded toward the low table and pillows in front of the fireplace. “Why don’t you take the food over? I’ll pour us some wine and be right behind you.”

  They enjoyed their meal in a companionable silence. Like Aileen, the stew was complex with many layers of flavor. The simple salad was all business and the biscuits and honey a sweet ending. The meal, like the woman who’d made it, stir
red his senses and begged to be tasted over and over again.

  He set his dishes aside and pushed the table a few feet to the left. Relaxing back against the pillows, he pressed the wine glass to his lips and turned his attention to the sexy beauty sitting across from him.

  The glow from the fireplace played off Aileen’s silken hair, turning the reddish blonde highlights to pure gold. He wanted nothing more than to wrap the gossamer strands around their naked bodies.

  She took a sip of her wine and closed her eyes. When she darted her tongue out to catch an errant droplet on her lip he nearly lost the last increment of his composure. Not having her…all of her…was no longer an option.

  “Hmm, nice. It tastes nutty but sweet.” Her softly spoken words drew his muffled groan.

  He inched closer to where she sat, grateful she didn’t back away. “I’d bet a kiss would taste even better.”

  “Possibly.” She traced his lips with her fingertip. “Probably not a good idea though. After all, you’re going to be my boss as of Monday.”

  “That’s Monday. As of now, we’re just…friends.”

  “Friends?” She pressed her lips to his. When his breath caught, she repeated the kiss and asked, “What kind of friends?”

  His tongue darted out to lick the lips she’d just kissed.

  When she opened her mouth fully and let him inside, he took full advantage and slid his tongue across her teeth, deepening an already perfect kiss. The kiss went from warm, to hot, to steamy so quickly, his head spun. He pressed her backward onto the intricately woven rug and stretched out above her. The first press of his hard cock against her thigh made her start.

  He raised his head, disengaging their lips. “Like I said, friends. With definite fringe benefits.”

  She laid her hand against his chest, but rather than push him away, she toyed with the buttons at the front of his shirt. Once she’d freed enough of them to slip her hand through the opening, she stroked his chest with her fingertips. He wasted no time in releasing the remaining buttons.

  Together, they pushed the shirt from his shoulders and down his arms. The moment he was free, she splayed both hands across his chest and teased his pebbled nipples with her thumbs. Her touch was silky smooth, gliding effortlessly across his chest, stopping to explore every indentation, each sculpted edge.