Lake was punching the living daylights out of a heavy bag in the back room of his shop when his phone rang. After a day searching Betty’s house for lingerie, he needed to hit something. He slipped off his gloves, unwrapped his hand and looked to see who was calling. He frowned slightly at the sight of his old army mate’s number. He’d been expecting John to get back to him weeks earlier.
“You took your time,” Lake said by way of hello.
“I’m a busy man,” John told him. “What? Did you think I would drop everything and do your bidding?”
Lake grunted.
“How’s it going with raising the cash?” John said.
“Fine,” Lake said as he reached for a bottle of water. “I’m on schedule.”
“Your enthusiasm underwhelms me,” John said.
Lake said nothing. Truth be told, he would miss Invertary more than he liked to acknowledge.
“Don’t worry about the money,” he told John.
“Good, because there are other guys queuing to get in on this.”
“Yeah, but none of them would be as good as me.”
John’s laughter barked in his ear.
“That’s true. But seriously, Lake, you need to get a move on. I’ve got some heavyweight clients lined up for the new year. This business is going to take off fast. We’ll be number one in international private security within the year. Mark my words.”
“I always do,” Lake said. “I marked them well that time you told us that the enemy was miles away and then we practically walked right over them.”
“One little mistake,” John grumbled. “You’ll forget all about that once we’re Prentice and Benson—security specialists.”
Lake grinned.
“Benson and Prentice,” he said. “My name has to come first. I’m the skill in this operation. It won’t take long for all those high-flying clients of yours to figure out that you couldn’t find your own backside with a map and a flashlight.”
“Funny. But right now the business is just Prentice Security. The name doesn’t change until I have cash in my hand.”
“You’ll get your money. It’s under control.” Lake took a long drink of water. “What’s the story on Kirsty’s scumbag ex?”
John whistled.
“You were right to be worried,” he said.
“Not worried. Curious.”
“Whatever. The guy is in it up to his neck. He was smuggling for some pretty serious people and got sticky fingers. Word is that he’s paid it all back now, but that means he’s broke again. He’s gone through your girlfriend’s money like water.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“As I said. Whatever. The point is, this guy is more dangerous than he looks. As far as I can gather, he’s desperate—and we both know how unpredictable desperate can be.”
“He isn’t likely to come near Kirsty again,” Lake said as his eyes narrowed. “He cleaned her out. She doesn’t have any money.”
“It’s probably a good thing she doesn’t,” John said. “I’d keep an eye out for him anyway. As for the accident, you were right. It wasn’t one.”
Lake clenched his jaw.
“There was one witness, an old woman. She saw another car force them off the road. It was swept under the carpet. I think money changed hands.”
It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Kirsty’s scumbag ex had crossed too many of the wrong people. They’d had enough of him.
“Bet there were some grim faces when he was the one who walked away from the wreck,” he said tightly.
Lake heard his friend sigh down the phone.
“Look, I don’t think there’s a chance he’ll turn up in Invertary, but it might pay to warn Kirsty.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.” Although he had no idea how she would defend herself against a thug like that.
He looked around his workout room. The sooner he dragged her over and taught her how to fight properly, the better.
“Thanks,” he told John.
“Thank me by getting the money to me at the start of the year,” John said with a laugh. “By this time next year we’ll be rolling in babes and cash. I’m telling you Lake, this is it. We’re going to have a blast.”
Lake grinned. John was always going to have a blast at something.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Lake told him, but it felt like a lie.
Lake glanced out the window to the snow-covered road. Everything was peaceful in Invertary, but he couldn’t help feel that there was more than a snowstorm on the horizon before the winter was through.
“I’ve had an amazing day,” Kirsty said when she opened the door to Lake. “I know you’re the enemy, but I’m going to tell you all about it anyway. Plus, it might make you keep Betty on a tighter leash.”
Lake grinned at her. She was bubbling over. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks were flushed and she was practically bouncing on the spot. Perfect. He stepped into her doorway, wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her hard. She even tasted good. When he’d finished kissing her, she smacked him on the chest.
“Stop it,” she said, but she was smiling. “People will see.”
Lake looked over his shoulder. The street had about an inch of snow covering it and the place was deadly silent.
“What people?” he said.
“That’s not the point,” she said as she hauled him inside and shut the door behind him.
Lake followed her up the stairs to her tiny flat. She wore blue jeans and a white version of that black ribbed polo neck he was over-fond of, and for some reason the fact she was barefoot was driving him wild. Her toes were painted the palest pink and there was a tiny silver ring on the fourth toe of her right foot. Lake honestly couldn’t remember ever finding feet this sexy before. She was weaving a spell over him and he wasn’t sure if he minded that much.
“What’s the big deal, then?” he said as he hung his old denim jacket in her closet.
“I’m back in the show!” she squealed.
Lake plopped himself into the corner of her sofa.
“I never thought you were out of it,” he said.
“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes. “I found a way to replace the stolen underwear.”
She paused and he wondered if he was supposed to mimic a drum roll.
“I’ve designed a new collection and mum has organised her friends to sew it. I’m showing my own work!”
“That’s great,” Lake said.
He reached out, tugged her hand and pulled her onto his knee. That was better.
“Can you believe it?” she said as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I’m showing my designs.”
“Good for you.” As thrilling as the news was for her, he was definitely more interested in how soft her jumper felt to his touch.
Kirsty chewed her bottom lip.
“What if it’s a disaster?” she said.
Lake shrugged.
“Then you move on.” He caressed his way up her spine, feeling her respond to his touch.
“I could make a complete fool out of myself.”
“It’s not going to happen.”
She raised her eyebrows at him.
“Really? You know so much about designer lingerie that you’ll be able to tell if my work is good or not?”
“That’s my point exactly,” he said as he slipped his hand under the back of her jumper.
The feel of her warm, soft skin made his concentration dip for a minute.
“If I can’t tell if it’s good or not,” he said, “and I own a lingerie shop, I don’t see how the town will tell.”
Kirsty looked a little deflated.
“There will be pictures in the paper too. People outside of Invertary will see. They might think it’s rubbish.”
“How will you know? Do you plan to call everyone who reads the paper and ask for an opinion?” He leaned forward and kissed the corner of her mouth. “You need to forget what people think and have some fun.”
His oth
er hand slid under the front of her jumper. He was slightly surprised that Kirsty didn’t stop him.
“While we’re on the topic of the show,” Kirsty said, “I’m two models down. Can I have one of yours to even things up?”
“No way,” Lake said as his fingers traced over her stomach. “This is war, and you don’t help the enemy in a war.”
“You helped me when Betty stole my lingerie.”
“That was different. I was fresh from bed and too lightheaded to think straight.” He grinned at her as his hand drifted upwards. “You’re not getting one of my models. What happened to yours, anyway?”
“Claire and Megan, the Donaldson twins, have been put on house arrest by their brother for dyeing Kitty Baxter’s sheep pink.”
Lake’s hand stilled, then he threw back his head and laughed.
“I love this town,” he said with delight. “You’re still not getting any of my models.”
His fingers crept over the lace of her bra.
“Why are you here, anyway?” she said.
He knew she was trying to sound grumpy, but her eyelids were a little heavier now, betraying the fact her mind was on his touch rather than the words. Her beautiful rose-coloured lips parted slightly as his hand traced the curves of her breast. All thoughts of telling her what he’d learned about her scumbag-ex flew from his mind. The last thing he wanted to do was mess with the look of sheer bliss on her face.
“I came to see you,” he said instead.
He’d tell her another time. A better time. A time when he wasn’t dying from jeans that were too tight and a deep frustration from not getting Kirsty naked as fast as humanly possible.
“I’ve told you.” Her voice was a little breathless. “I’m not ready for you to see me.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He smiled at her.
His left hand flicked the back of her bra and performed the one and only trick he knew. A second later, his right hand was under the lace and holding her. Kirsty’s eyes fluttered shut. Lake groaned.
“Come on,” he said. “We need a bed.” He grinned at her wickedly. “With the lights out.”
“But I have work to do,” she moaned. “I don’t have time for this.”
He stood, took her hand and dragged her to the bedroom.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ll make it fast, then you can get back to work.”
“Great,” she grumbled. “That’s four little words every woman wants to hear on the way to the bedroom.” She lowered her voice to mimic him. “I’ll make it fast.”
Lake laughed as Kirsty, more than willingly, followed behind him.
“Are you going to London to help your brother or not?” Alastair asked.
He was sitting on the floor beside his bed. They were eating vegetable curry because it was the only vegetarian meal that Alastair knew how to cook. Rainne didn’t mind, it tasted fine.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It wouldn’t be for long, anyway. These things don’t last that long. A few months tops.”
“Months?” He put the half-finished food down on the floor beside him.
The curry was eerily similar in appearance to the swirls on the yuck-brown carpet.
“I thought it was only one protest,” he said.
The bed behind him was calling to her. They’d been dating for weeks and he hadn’t made any suggestions that they get into it. The bed was beginning to mock them. Rainne guessed that he was biding his time out of respect for her, but that was wearing a bit thin. She had to figure out how to bring the topic up before she died of frustration.
“Rainne?” he said, making her focus on the conversation again and not on that blooming bed.
“These things take time to set up. There’s a lot more organisation involved than you’d think.”
“What I think,” Alastair said as he drew his knees up in front of him and leaned his arms on them, “Is that someone else should do the organising and you should stay here and look after your shop.”
Rainne found she had lost her appetite too. She put her plate beside the one Alastair had abandoned.
“I need to ask Lake what his plans are and what he wants me to do.”
“No,” Alastair said firmly. “It doesn’t matter what your parents want you to do, or what Lake wants you to do. You need to do what you want to do.”
That was easier said than done. Especially when she really wasn’t sure what she wanted.
“I’ve always helped my family,” she said. The words sounded weak, even to her own ears.
“There’s a difference between helping your family and being used by them. Your parents are bossing you around, expecting you to jump when they want something done. Lake took your shop off of you and expected you to do what you were told. When are you going to do what you want?”
“Lake had every right to do that,” she said. “It’s his shop. I’m the manager, kind of.”
She wasn’t even that. These days she was the lackey.
“Aye, and he would have bought an underwear shop all on his own. He did it for you, Rainbow. But he’s come in all gung ho and taken over. Is it even what you want it to be?”
She shook her head. No. It wasn’t. But then, she really wasn’t sure what she wanted it to be. All her great ideas about sustainable underwear were just that, ideas. She hadn’t been able to put a plan together.
“I’ll talk to him,” she said, knowing that she was saying the words more because she wanted Alastair to stop harassing her and less because she wanted to do it.
Alastair sighed and Rainne wondered if he could see right through her.
“I don’t want you to do it because I tell you to,” he said. “I don’t want to be another person who tells you what to do.”
“You’re not,” she said.
She wasn’t sure that was true.
“What am I going to do with you?” he said as he came to crouch in front of her.
Rainne didn’t have an answer for that. She didn’t know what to do with herself, either. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“I shouldn’t be giving you advice,” he said. “I’m invested. I want you to stay here. With me. And part of me thinks that if I tell you to do it with enough force, then you might stay.” He sighed again. “But I don’t want you to stay because I tell you to stay. I want you to be here because this is your choice.”
Rainne swallowed hard. It didn’t make any sense that he could be so certain about what he wanted out of life and she didn’t have a clue.
“I’ll try harder,” she said.
“Oh Rainbow,” he said with a shake of his head.
He cupped her cheek and kissed her gently.
“I’ll get pudding,” he said as he gathered the dishes. “I need to learn to make something else. This curry stinks.”
As he disappeared downstairs, Rainne tried to figure out what to do. She’d spent a lifetime pleasing her parents, and that was a hard habit to break. Plus, as Lake kept pointing out to her, she had no skills for the real world. All she knew how to do were the things she’d grown up doing—fighting for her parents’ causes. She had to find out if Lake meant to stay on, or if she was ever going to get a chance to run the shop. Her stomach clenched at the thought. She worried that it was just a matter of time before she was back in the same boat as Lake had found her three months earlier—running the business into the ground while waiting for him to turn up and sort it out.
Kirsty was astonished at how quickly her new Scotland-themed collection was coming along. Her mother’s friends really knew how to sew. Although they had insisted that they needed new T-shirts to sew in. They were all now proudly wearing ones that said SOD-OFF while they worked. It was only a few days to the show and it looked like she would actually have a collection to present. Which was fantastic, as the town was buzzing with people. There were even photographers from magazines and newspapers, lured there by the “InverTARTY” headlines and the fact that Kirsty Campbell had come out of hiding.
It was a lot to live up to—especially since she was still two models down and no closer to finding replacements.
“Come on, Magenta,” she tried again. “If we scrub off your makeup no one will recognise you anyway.”
“I am not parading around in my knickers for anyone,” Magenta told her. “Not even you. Plus it’s freezing out there. Bits could fall off it’s so cold. I don’t want to risk it. I like my bits.”
Magenta had a point. Kirsty needed to figure out a way to keep the models she did have warm. An idea flickered in the back of her head.
“Fine,” she said. “If you won’t model, will you run around town getting as many fur coats as you can rustle up?”
Magenta stared at her, black bob falling across one eye.
“Is this punishment for not doing what you want?” she said as her eyes narrowed. “Because if you’re going to make up things for me to do, running around town asking folk for coats is a bit pathetic.”
“No, it’s not punishment. I need them for the show,” Kirsty said. “To keep the models warm.”
“In that case, it’s my pleasure. While we’re on the topic of getting your kit off in public, why don’t you model? It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”
Kirsty shook her head.
“I can’t, I have a show to organise.” She was surprised to hear that was her main concern, rather than hiding her scars. “Go,” she told Magenta. “I’ll mind the shop.”
They actually had customers for a change as the tourists wandered in from the market. The posters around town advertising the fashion show were helping too. Unfortunately, they weren’t only helping her shop. As she looked over the road she could see that Lake’s shop was doing well too. At this rate, she’d never win the war. And she definitely didn’t have a hope if she only got to show eight outfits while Lake showed ten. She bit her lip as she tried to come up with a solution.
There weren’t any suitable women in Invertary—at least, none who were prepared to wear lingerie in public—but there was one thing she could try. She picked up the Christmas card from an old friend of hers and reread the message. It said: Working in Edinburgh, will try to come visit when I’m done. Prepare to party! Kirsty picked up her phone, but hesitated before she dialled. It was one thing expecting the local women to wear her designs, but quite another to ask her modelling friends. Especially seeing as she’d been less than sociable since her accident. She put the phone back down. It was a stupid idea. What made her think they would be able to come to Invertary at such short notice, let alone want to come? She would make a fool of herself asking these women to wear her stuff. Her little designs weren’t professional. She barely knew what she was doing. It was stupid.
She folded her arms and paced in front of her phone. If she ever wanted business, now was the time. There would be press. Free advertising. Not only would she get the joy of beating her soldier boy, but she had a real chance at making the shop a success. She chewed her lip. Professional models would make a massive difference. Her palms started to tingle and her heartbeat sped up. It meant dealing with the world she’d left behind. No. The world she’d been forced out of. She had to tell herself to breathe slowly. What if they said no? What if they said yes? This was going to drive her crazy!
She snatched up the phone and dialled, all the while hearing Lake’s voice in her head: You can do it. Fight me. Fight back.
“Hello,” she said. “Helena, it’s Kirsty.”
There was a whoop of joy on the other end of the line. Kirsty smiled as the tension seeped from her shoulders.
“I know you said you’d try to visit, but I was wondering if we could make it a definite thing. I was also wondering if you could get here by the weekend?” She sat on one of the kitchen stools. “I have a little problem,” she said. “I could really use some help.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN