Kirsty didn’t expect the fallout from the newspaper headlines to be so huge. All week she’d been answering phone calls from members of the press who wanted to do a follow-up story, or even an interview on camera. Unfortunately, without exception, they wanted to feature Lake in the article as well. Apparently the interesting part of the story wasn’t that she’d posed for the camera again, but that together the two shops made Invertary “InverTARTY”. Kirsty was torn. She either said yes to the publicity, and Lake benefited too. Or she said no, and shot herself in the foot. In the end, she compromised. She told everyone that there was a fashion show just before Christmas and they should contact Caroline to set up interviews. Let Caroline deal with it. It was the least she could do after going all “fair play” on her best friend.
“Have you seen Facebook?” Magenta said by way of hello.
She shrugged out of her black padded coat as she walked through the shop.
“Of course I’ve seen Facebook, who hasn’t?”
Magenta stopped and gave Kirsty a look that said she thought she was an idiot.
“I don’t mean the general network, I mean the specific images that are flooding it right now.”
“Oh, well, the answer is no.”
Magenta rolled her eyes and thrust her smartphone at Kirsty.
“Take a look at this,” she said.
Kirsty took the phone, as ordered by her grumpy assistant. Her lips pursed when she saw what was on the screen. She flicked through the images, each one almost identical—women from the town posing beside the cardboard cut-out of Lake.
“It’s gone viral. It’s everywhere. There are women writing poems to him.” Kirsty frowned at Magenta’s words. “Not women from Invertary,” Magenta told her. “Strange women.”
Kirsty didn’t know what to say. She held the phone and stared at Lake smiling up at her.
“They’ve even started a fan page for him. It’s called ‘Double Oh, licensed to thrill in InverTARTY’.”
“Double Oh Seven?”
“No,” Magenta said slowly. “Double Oh—orgasm.”
Kirsty screwed up her nose.
“That’s yucky.”
“You should read some of the comments on the page,” Magenta said. “I’m no prude but they make me blush. I bumped into Rainne on the way here. She said that Lake has had seventeen proposals of marriage since Saturday.”
“Has the world gone mad?” Kirsty handed back the phone.
“It appears so,” Magenta said solemnly. “Anyway, he’s started a website to maximise the sales from all this internet fame. He’s offering everyone who buys lingerie a chance to enter in a draw to join him here for the fashion show.”
Kirsty’s eyes shot to her feet.
“That’s wrong,” she said. “He can’t do that.” Her words faltered. “Can he?”
“He is.”
Kirsty started to pace in her office.
“How did he manage to get his website off the ground so fast?”
“Rainne said he got an old army mate to set up a template.”
“And what’s he going to do with this woman when she comes to town?” She felt her eyes go wide. “If they’re calling him double orgasm, will she be expecting...you know.”
“Know what?” Magenta had a mischievous glint in her eye.
“You know,” Kirsty said in frustration. “Her own double oh.”
Magenta nodded with what looked like fake solemnity.
“I would say so. After all, he is licensed to thrill.”
Kirsty put her hands on her hips and glared at Magenta.
“That is wrong. He’s pimping himself out to sell underwear. He’s giving this town a terrible reputation. We need to stop this.”
She sat on her chair with a groan. Think. Think, she told herself. At last a tiny idea crept into the corner of her brain.
“You went to school with that photographer at the paper, right?”
Magenta’s eyes narrowed.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m wondering if he could work a little Photoshop magic on something.”
Magenta grinned.
“Like what?”
“Well,” Kirsty said with feigned innocence, “maybe it’s time we started posting some images of our own. Ones that show what Lake really looks like. Ones with his huge beer belly and hairy feet. Ones with a double chin and balding head.”
“But Lake doesn’t look...” Magenta grinned. “I get it.” She grabbed her coat. “I’ll go find the photographer.”
As she reached for the door she paused.
“We’ll need some pictures to Photoshop.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got that under control.”
An hour later Kirsty leaned back from the table in her mother’s shop and looked at the women of Knit Or Die.
“You all understand what you’re doing, right?” she said.
They nodded. They were huddled around the table at the back of Margaret Campbell’s shop, looking a little more serious than usual.
“Then let’s hear it,” Kirsty said.
“I’m on the waterfront, taking pictures of the loch in the morning and will get shots of Lake when he runs past for his morning jog,” Shona said.
“I’ve to go into his shop later and ask to take a picture with him. If I can get him with Betty, then even better,” said Heather.
Kirsty nodded to encourage them.
“I’ve to hang out in the street, pretending I’m taking pictures of the buildings for a tourist leaflet we’re making, but instead I take pictures of Lake when he leaves the shop,” said Jean.
“Good.” Kirsty slapped her hands together. “This is going to be a breeze. Once these photos are on the internet that will be the end of his stupid competition. We can’t have him raffling himself off to anyone who’ll buy underwear from him.”
Her mum leaned back in her chair with a knowing smile on her face. It would have been reassuring—only Kirsty had no idea what her mother thought she knew.
“No, we can’t have that,” her mother said smugly.
Kirsty ignored her. She was in the middle of her grand plan and she didn’t need the distraction.
“Now to the next bit,” she said. “Does anyone know anyone who’s a whizz with computers?”
They looked at each other for a while before a light bulb went off over Jean’s head.
“I have a grandson who designed a game for the internet. Made a lot of money, he’s using it to pay for Uni. Well, that’s what his parents say. He told me he’s going to buy a Ferrari and date the Kardashians,” Jean said.
“Great.” Kirsty leaned forward. “Give me his contact details.”
“Is that Martha’s son?” Shona asked.
Jean nodded.
“You can’t get him involved with your schemes, he’s only thirteen. It’s wrong to make him do anything illegal,” Shona told her.
“Who said anything about illegal?” Kirsty said. “I’m only going to get him to break into a computer. That’s not a proper crime. He’ll be fine.”
Jean hesitated but handed over the information Kirsty wanted.
“You’re a little scary in this mood,” Jean told her.
Kirsty nodded in agreement. She was scaring herself too.
Twenty minutes later Kirsty was negotiating with Jean’s grandson. If she didn’t already know he was thirteen, she would have guessed it. He was five and a half feet of everything irritating about the male race.
“What do I get out of this?” he said with a superior smirk.
He plunged his hands into the pockets of his distressed jeans and waited. As though he was certain she would pay him off. Kirsty blew her hair out of her eyes and glared at him.
“You don’t get anything. You’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart and because you want to help the town.”
“I don’t think the English guy would see it like that.”
“Are you trying to blackmail me, Gordon Stewart?” She narrowed her eyes at
him and he didn’t even have the decency to blush with shame.
“No. I’m telling you that skills like mine come at a price.” He pulled his hands out of his jeans and gestured towards the rest of the town. “Where else in this dump are you going to find someone with my ability? Nowhere. That’s where. And I’m not doing it unless you make it worth my while.”
Kirsty wanted to lock the arrogant wee smell in his room for about a month—without his precious computer. And while he was there, she’d pay someone to shave that ridiculous Justin Bieber haircut off his head.
“Time is running out,” he said. “Mum will be calling me for dinner soon.”
“What do you want?” she said between clenched teeth.
He didn’t even hesitate.
“I want to be backstage for the runway show. I want to see the models getting dressed.”
Kirsty’s jaw dropped open.
“You tiny wee pervert.”
He shrugged.
“I’m thirteen. If there’s a chance I’ll see some boobs, I’m there.”
“It’s not going to happen,” she told him.
“Well then, neither is your computer sabotage.” He stepped inside the house and moved to close the door. “Tatty bye,” he told her.
“Wait.” Kirsty hated herself for even trying to negotiate with the little reprobate. “There must be something else you want. Something that isn’t disgusting.”
The grin he gave her made her want to take a bath.
“How about a date with Magenta?”
“Done,” Kirsty said without even blinking.
Gordon looked astonished.
“Really?” he said.
“Careful, Gordon, your teenage years are showing.”
“I mean, that’s great.” He tried to look all macho and failed.
“Now,” she said as she handed him a flash drive, “the photos are coming soon. Your Granny will get them to you. This has the email that I want you to send to every woman on the competition list. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Your granny will be in touch about when you’re to go to Lake’s shop. Do exactly what she tells you or there will be trouble.”
She wasn’t sure he was taking her seriously enough. He frowned at the thumb drive, then at her.
“When’s my date with Magenta?” he said.
“I’ll get her to call you,” Kirsty said.
His eyes narrowed.
“You better, Kirsty Campbell, or I’ll be hacking into your computer next and causing all sorts of havoc.”
Kirsty pulled herself up to her full height and stared down at the boy.
“You need to work on that attitude, Gordon,” she told him primly. “I can tell you for a fact, if it doesn’t change girls will never come near you.”
He laughed.
“Of course they will. I’m thirteen and I’m already rich.”
There was no talking to the boy. She just hoped Magenta could sort him out.
“Don’t mess this up,” she warned before walking towards home.
She had better things to think about than an annoying boy. Nope, she had her hands full thinking about an annoying man.
It didn’t take long for Lake to spot he was being followed. Around three seconds, to be exact. For a start the woman wore a bright yellow jacket and every time he glanced her way she became completely fascinated by whatever tree, wall or cloud was nearest her. That and the fact she had a bloody huge camera slung around her neck were little clues that were hard to miss. Lake smiled as he ran towards the loch. There was no way she could keep up. Whatever scheme the women in Invertary were currently hatching, it would have to wait until he went for his run.
His legs stretched into a long stride as he hit the road beside the loch. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the light reflect off another lens. Another woman. This time dressed head to toe in black, wearing a headscarf and trying to pretend her camera was invisible. Lake grinned as he ran. The town was full of lunatics. It was entertaining, that was for sure. He pushed his run longer than usual and arrived back at his shop an hour later. And, lo and behold, there was another woman with a camera. As he pushed open the door to his shop, she came running over to him.
“Lake,” she said. “Would you mind posing for a couple of pictures?”
“What’s it for?” he asked as he went into the store.
He wanted to check that the latest shipment of lingerie had arrived as planned. Rainne gave him a thumbs-up as soon as she saw him. He let himself relax—slightly. At this rate the shop would be showing enough profit by Christmas to make a sale attractive to buyers. He wouldn’t make anything on what he’d put into the place, but at least he would free up his money again. And in time for when he needed it. That was the most important part.
“So,” the little woman beside him said as she trotted along to keep up with his pace. “Can I take some pictures?”
“I asked: what is it for?” Lake said.
She seemed a bit confused, then obviously remembered what her story was supposed to be.
“I’m making a leaflet. For the tourists.”
From the way her eyes went wide and she tried to keep her face expressionless, he’d say he was being fed a story. Lake found it hard to care. After all, what could a bunch of women do with a picture?
“Sure, take your pictures,” he told her.
She seemed relieved. He posed beside the cash register and beside the men’s underwear rack. Then she roped Betty in and he posed with her. Twice. Because Betty screwed up the first picture by making the victory sign.
“Okay,” he said. “We’re done here. I have to take a shower and run a shop.”
“Thank you,” the woman said.
“No problem,” he said as she walked to the door. “Tell Kirsty I hope she can use them.”
“Will do,” she called back. Then hung her head.
He could hear her cursing under her breath all the way out of the shop. With a grin, Lake went to shower.
“Want to tell me why you’re taking pictures of me?” Lake said as he entered Kirsty’s office.
She had on a pink dress that came to below her knee and the same black boots that made him drool every time he saw them. The collar on her dress was high and she wore a silk scarf around her neck. Everything was carefully covered, as usual.
“Why hello, Lake,” she said with a smile that reminded him of a snake. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”
“Of course you don’t.”
She was standing in front of a mannequin, pinning butter-yellow material to it.
“Why are you here?” she said. “To snoop?” She slapped herself on the forehead. “Oh no, wait, you break in when I’m not here to do your snooping.”
Lake didn’t correct her. He also didn’t tell her that she’d been asleep at the time.
“You really need better locks. Your security sucks. A kid could break in here. Even Betty could break in here.”
“Don’t you go putting any ideas in her head,” Kirsty said. “I have enough problems as it is.”
“At least get some new locks.”
“With what? Every last penny I have right now is invested in wiping your shop off the face of the earth.”
“Fine. I’ll get you some.”
“You will not.” She put the material on the desk beside her and went over to her desk. “Why are you here?” she said again.
He plopped down in the chair on the other side of her purple desk.
“We need to figure out how this fashion show is going to run.”
“I do my thing. You do yours.”
“I think we need to coordinate a little more than that. The press will be there. We need to put on a united front.”
“Work together? I don’t think so.”
“It makes sense.”
“Do I look like I care?”
He let his eye roam over her. She looked sexy, that’s what she looked like.
“So what
are you doing with the photos?” he said.
“Is this some sort of interrogation technique you learned? Ask the same question over again until the person gets bored and answers to make you shut up?”
Lake grinned as he stretched his legs out in front of him.
“You’re not going to tell me what you’re doing with them, are you?”
“No,” she said primly, then regrouped. “I mean, if I was taking pictures, which I’m not.”
“Smooth, Kirsty, real smooth,” he said. “Guess I’ll have to wait and see. So, about the show?”
She let out a long sigh as she leaned forward onto the desk and clasped her hands in front of her.
“I don’t want to do the show with you, therefore I don’t want to talk about it.”
He waited her out. He could almost see her think behind those beautiful green eyes of hers.
“Fine,” she said at last. Lake tried not to give her a victory smile. “We’ll each have a twenty-minute session. Pick a theme and some music and then make your girls walk to it. It isn’t rocket science, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
She paused for him to take issue with the insult. He let it slide.
“I plan to run a raffle and some other competitions, get people involved. I’m also going to have a stall beside the show, so people can buy straight after it.” She shrugged. “That’s pretty much it.”
“I already have a competition running,” he said.
Kirsty pursed her lips with disgust.
“I heard all about it. A weekend with you. Seriously? That’s the prize? You’re pimping yourself out to sell lingerie.”
“Tut tut, Kirsty. You had a whole career pimping yourself to sell lingerie. I’m only offering one woman, one weekend.”
“Lingerie models don’t pimp themselves out.” Her eyes narrowed, and he assumed she meant it to make her look mean. Instead it was kind of cute. Although not as cute as when her eyes flashed with passion. For that he had to make her mad. They were nowhere near that—yet.
Lake pushed himself up from his chair. His business was over, but he didn’t want to leave.
“Don’t forget to change the passwords on your computer,” he told her. “And never let the browser save your password. Especially the one for your bank account.”
Her mouth fell open.
“You were in my bank account?” She tapped on the screen in front of her.
“I didn’t take anything,” he said, kind of offended that she was checking.
“It’s time for you to leave.” She pointed at the door, in case he didn’t understand.
As he reached the door, Kirsty’s phone rang. He pulled the door open as she said, “What the hell do you want?”
And instead of walking out, Lake turned, folded his arms and listened. He knew he already hated whoever was on the line.
Kirsty almost dropped the phone. Instead her knuckles went white from holding it so tightly. She knew that Lake was still in the room, blatantly listening in on her conversation, but she didn’t care.
“You’ve got a cheek calling me,” she said.
She could hear her voice shake and wished that it didn’t.
“You’re right, and I understand if you decide to hang up. It’s the least I deserve.” Her ex-fiancé’s voice oozed sincerity.
Kirsty felt the room lose focus as her breathing sped up.
“What do you want? Are you calling to tell me that you plan to return the money you stole?”
“I wish I could,” Brandon said with a sigh. “You have no idea how much I regret that, Kirsty. I was a fool.”
Her heartbeat started to pound in her chest. She grasped the phone tighter. Suddenly, she felt the weight of Lake’s hand on her shoulder. For some reason, her breathing slowed a little, so she didn’t shrug him off.
“I don’t have words for what you are,” she said tightly. “You left me in a hospital while you stole all my money and ran away.”
“I know, I know, baby,” he cooed in her ear. “I was in debt. I feared for my life. I was planning to borrow money to repay the debt, but there was no time left. I felt like I was in a corner and then we had the accident. I saw a way out and I took it. It’s something I regret every moment of every day.”
“Not as much as I regret it. All of it.” Her voice had become weak. She felt weak.
Her palms began to tingle.
Lake stepped in closer. He placed a hand on each of her shoulders and gently rubbed his thumbs in a circle at the base of her neck. For once, Kirsty didn’t think about the scars. She was grateful for the touch that soothed her and stopped her from losing control completely.
“I shouldn’t have called,” Brandon said. He sounded upset. “I still love you.”
She gasped at the words. Shocked he could even say them after what he did. Lake’s fingers gently massaged her shoulders, reminding her that he was there.
“I just thought,” Brandon said in her ear, “after seeing the pictures of you that you still loved me, somehow, even a little bit.”
Kirsty’s mind was reeling. Nothing he said made any sense.
“What pictures? Why would you think that?”
“You were posing, at home in Scotland. You were wearing the necklace I bought you,” he said. His voice cracked a little, as though the emotion was too much for him. “It was the last present I gave you, remember? I thought it was lost in the crash, but there you were wearing it for the world to see and I thought...I thought that if you kept it, if you wore it again, that it must mean there was hope. That you might be able to forgive me. It is the necklace I gave you, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is, but I don’t see how that could make you think I would take you back.”
“I understand, I understand,” Brandon said. “I shouldn’t have called. It was a mistake.”
The phone went dead. Kirsty held the phone long after the dial tone sounded in her ear. She didn’t know what to think. Or what to feel. She was sure that she would have lost her mind completely if it wasn’t for Lake’s grounding presence.
“You’re breathing too fast,” Lake said behind her. She felt the rumble of his voice through her whole body. “Put the phone down, honey, and work on breathing slowly.”
Her mind was too full to concentrate on what he was saying. A second later, he took the phone out of her hand and placed it on the desk.
“I want you to shut your eyes and concentrate on your breathing. Listen to me, Kirsty.”
Since she didn’t know what else to do, she did as she was told. Short, slow breaths, taking time between each breath to rest—making sure she didn’t gasp for air and hyperventilate her way back into hospital. There was nothing like a full-blown panic attack combined with too much oxygen to make you feel like you were going to die. Lake whispered encouraging words as he kept up the slow circular motions at the base of her neck. Kirsty worked on breathing and, slowly, began to feel more in control.
“That’s it,” said Lake. “Your heartbeat’s a lot slower now. You’re doing great.”
They continued that way for a few minutes. At last Kirsty felt like she was normal again. Lake seemed to know that and stopped touching her; instead he perched on the desk beside her.
“Want to tell me what that was about?” he said.
“Like you didn’t hear it anyway.”
He smiled and his beautiful eyes sparkled, taking her breath away in a good way for a change.
“You must be feeling better. You’re giving me a hard time again.”
Kirsty rolled her eyes. She was about to point out that she’d ordered him from her office, but the truth was she was grateful he’d been there.
“It was my ex-fiancé,” she said with a sigh. “He wanted to get back together. He said he loves me.”
She looked up at Lake. His intense concentration was comforting.
“You know the story, right?” she said.
He nodded. Of course he knew the story. Everyone knew every humiliating detail of her life.
/>
“He saw the necklace and thought it was a sign.”
“Necklace?”
She pointed to the bowl on her desk. She wished she’d thrown the thing out years ago.
“He gave you that ugly piece of crap?” Lake said.
To her surprise, Kirsty laughed.
“Yep, he did.”
“You kept it because you love him?” His voice was tight.
“Goodness, no. I kept it because it was the only thing I had left of my old life.”
He nodded like that made sense.
“I’ll throw it out.” She reached for the bowl.
Lake caught her hand and held it tight in his. It was dwarfed by his hand. His long, powerful fingers entwined with hers. Kirsty didn’t pull away. Instead she watched him stroke the soft, fleshy part of her palm with his thumb.
“Don’t throw it out—let me ask around first. I’d like to know a little more about this guy, and the necklace he’s so interested in.”
She looked up at him.
“You’re worried?” she asked. It seemed pointless to point out that she was already worried.
“Curious,” he said.
They sat in silence for a minute as Lake stroked her hand, sending little tingles right throughout her body.
“I don’t like that guy,” he said at last.
Kirsty gave him her widest grin.
“No, I don’t like him either,” she said.
When Lake growled his approval, Kirsty started to laugh.
“You know, Betty’s right,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow, making her grin widely.
“You are really rubbish at this war thing. You’re supposed to be wiping me out. Not rescuing me.”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
She gave him a look. He knew exactly what he was doing. There was no doubt in her mind that Lake always knew what he was doing.
“I guess I need to work on that,” he told her.
“You think?”
“Come here.” He yanked her hand and pulled her to her feet.
She stood between his knees as he wrapped his arms around her. Kirsty didn’t bother to stop him. For the first time since she’d met him, his insistence that this physical connection they had was completely separate from the war actually made sense. She guessed her body had talked her mind around after all, because if Lake’s crazy logic was making sense, then she wanted him badly.
“You’re thinking about it,” he said with a knowing smile.
She rolled her eyes.
“You’re thinking about us,” he said, and his tone was cocky.
“Shut up and kiss me, soldier boy,” she told him.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Lake’s lips were delicious. Kirsty found herself leaning into him and letting herself get lost in his touch. His hands traced the curve of her spine, up to cup the back of her head, to better angle her against him. Kirsty moaned into his mouth, which made him make an equally guttural noise. Her fingers explored the curve of his shoulders, down to the solid muscle in his arms. She could only think one thing—want.
“Kirsty are you—oh.” Magenta strode into the room. “Oh, I see. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“Yes. Go away,” Lake said against Kirsty’s lips.
Kirsty didn’t need to see the grin on Magenta’s face to know it was there. She struggled out of her lust-filled daze to push away from Lake. His darkened eyes told her clearly that he wasn’t pleased—or finished.
“So.” Kirsty took a deep breath and shot for polite. “Thanks for coming around to discuss the show.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her waiting for more, but that was all he was getting. At last, he shook his head slowly.
“You’re killing me here,” he told her, then sauntered from the room.
Kirsty tried to hide the desperate look of longing she knew was on her face as she watched him go. Fortunately Magenta’s smug grin helped her focus on other things.
“Don’t say a word,” Kirsty warned.
“Me?” Magenta pointed at herself and went all wide-eyed. “I wouldn’t dare.” She turned to leave. “To you, anyway,” she said with a mischievous grin.
Kirsty flopped into the chair. This was all she needed. Rumours of her making out with the enemy. Actually, that wasn’t what she needed. She needed more making out with the enemy. A lot more. She picked up the phone where Lake had dropped it on the desk and placed it back in its base
First she needed to get her head around hearing from her ex. She had a nasty feeling that it wouldn’t be the last of it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN