One King's Way

  “There must be a reason. Perhaps the reason is in Inverness,” he hedged with a shocking amount of perceptiveness.

  Something in my expression must have given me away because Craig’s own gaze softened and he leaned across the table toward me until all I could see was his gorgeous face. “You know when I lost my dad it made me cling hard to the family I had left—my mum and my sisters. It made me really overprotective of them. Like you with Darcy.”

  He’d guessed then that I’d lost family. “My parents.” I nodded, unable to look away from his eyes. “I was six. Darcy was four. It was a boating accident. We went to live with my aunt. She was a drunk.”

  “Fuck,” Craig breathed. He reached for my hand and secured it between both of his. “I take it things were not good at home.”

  I stared at my hand held so tightly in his. My hand looked right in his hold. It felt even more right. I immediately wanted to tug it back, but the warmth, the comfort of his gesture stopped me. “No. Things weren’t good at home.”

  “You left Darcy. That’s why you feel guilty.”

  “I couldn’t take her with me. My aunt wouldn’t let me and I had no legal right to her. I just had to bide my time . . . but the truth is . . . I could have stuck around. I could have stayed anyway. I was selfish. I was a selfish, self-involved teenager and my sister was left to that woman’s cruelty because of it.”

  “You were just a kid.”

  Unsettled by his kindness, I released my hand from his grasp and lowered my gaze. “Well, anyway, it’s the reason you should probably turn tail and run.”

  “And why’s that?”

  I looked up again and put all the sincerity in the world into my eyes and words. “Because other than Darcy, I didn’t receive a lot of affection for most of my childhood. Now I’m greedy for it. I’m someone who’s emotionally high maintenance in a relationship and I’m told it’s exhausting. So there. I’m not who you think I am.”

  Craig studied me thoughtfully. “Who do you think I think you are?”

  “I don’t know really. I just know that I’m complicated. I’m super independent in life, and in business, to the point where it drove my exes crazy. And then when it came to romance I’ve been told I’m too needy. I’m a messy paradox of a woman and it’s going to take a certain guy who can deal with all that. Not a one-night-stander. I need certainty in the future. I’ve been hurt before and I need to know going in that a guy is the right guy, that we’ll last, and that he won’t hurt me.”

  His study of me continued in silence for a moment and then finally he said, “I should probably be running for the door right now.”

  “Yes, you should.”

  His slow, wicked smile made my insides quiver. “Strangely I don’t want to. I want to be your friend, Rain.”

  To my annoyance, disappointment rammed into me gut. Of course he would change his tune after hearing about my emotional dysfunction. And that’s what I wanted, right?

  Right?

  WRONG!

  I realized then that I didn’t want to be just friends with Craig but I also didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who could hurt me, and that meant that I didn’t want him in my life at all.

  “I don’t think we should be friends.”

  He chuckled. “You know you have a habit of bruising my ego.”

  I winced. “I don’t mean to.”

  “I know. And yet still you do. But no matter.” He grinned boyishly. “I have every intention of changing your mind.”

  Craig

  Craig’s eyes were glued to Rain’s fantastic arse as she walked away from him and into the ladies’ toilets. He found himself smiling at what she was wearing. A short-sleeved black shirt that was buttoned all the way up to its little collar at her neck. The shirt was tight-fitting and tucked into a high-waist pencil skirt that followed the curve of her hips. Its hemline was modest and tight around her calves, forcing her to sashay in her high-heeled dark green shoes.

  She had hardly any skin on show and yet it was the sexiest fucking outfit he’d ever seen in his life. Her feminine 1940s’ bombshell style was starting to become one of his favorite things about her.

  And there were lots of favorite things to choose from.

  A member of the coffeehouse staff came over to clear their table. “Can we have another Americano and . . .” He peered at Rain’s cup trying to work out what she’d been drinking.

  “Green tea,” the guy supplied.

  Craig eyed him. “Good memory.”

  “She’s kind of memorable.” He shot him a grin.

  Craig scowled at him.

  Rain doesn’t have to worry about any lack of possessiveness on my part.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d been pissed off about another guy thinking of Rain in a sexual way. Of course men would think of her sexually. She was beautiful. But Craig didn’t want to see it. Last weekend at the bar, when she was flirting with that arsehole, and that arsehole was touching her, Craig felt like he was going to come out of his skin. He’d never felt such an overwhelming urge to lay claim to a woman, to metaphorically piss around her so no other bastard would come near her.

  She’s mine.

  That fierce thought had entered his mind last Saturday as he’d watched her flirt with Angus, scorching his blood with their intrinsic sense of rightness. That’s why he’d followed her to the restrooms. He couldn’t stop himself. He’d never been so pissed off at a woman in his life before, and yet so desperate to have her in his arms.

  Finally, Craig understood from experience why Braden Carmichael had looked at him like he wanted to deck him for the first few months of his relationship with Joss. If Craig had had to watch Rain kiss Angus like Braden had had to watch him kiss Joss . . .

  For the first time ever he felt a little guilty about the whole incident with Joss.

  Not that he’d ever admit that to Braden of course.

  Strangely he found himself in a similar situation to Braden—wanting a woman who stubbornly refused to let him in.

  And even after Rain’s attempt to scare him off (and he bloody well knew that it was an attempt to scare him off), Craig had no intention of going anywhere.

  Honestly . . . aye, her warning about her craving for affection at once worried him and motivated him. Right now he was absolutely sure he was up to the challenge of showering Rain Alexander with affection.

  However, Craig wasn’t a psychic. He didn’t know if they had a future or not. How could he? And he didn’t know if he’d ever hurt her or if she’d ever hurt him. All he knew was that he would never intentionally hurt her. The feelings she inspired in him—tenderness, thrill, lust, possessiveness—meant something. No woman had ever inspired this desperation, this mounting need to be around her, with her, and, yes, inside her. He liked to think he was a smart man, and that a smart man wouldn’t run away from this kind of extraordinary. A smart man would stick around and fight for it. Even if he couldn’t promise a happily ever after.

  But what man could promise such a thing?

  Frustrated, Craig practically growled under his breath. The problem was he had two things working against him: Rain’s preoccupation with Angus, and her bloody romantic nature. Craig had to divert her attention from the whole revenge scheme, and he also had to convince her that there was being romantic and then there was being impossible. He wouldn’t ask her to change her romantic nature—he actually found it fucking adorable considering how straightforward and businesslike she could be—but he would ask her to see sense. No one knew what the future held. You just had to take what you had right now and make the best of it. He could offer her that. He could offer her everything she was asking for and a certainty that what was between them was worth exploring. But he couldn’t promise the certainty of their future together and he didn’t think that made him a bad guy. It just made him a realist.

  Could a realist and a romantic ever work together?

  Rain stepped out of the ladies’ restroom, her gaze instantly zero
ing in on him. Just the sight of her caused this pang of wonder in his chest and desire to pound in his blood. He remembered the mind-blowing kisses they’d shared and how the encounter differed from his encounters with other women. The passion between them wasn’t just something he felt in his dick . . . it was something he felt in his blood, in his skin, and in the needful tug in his gut.

  Fuck yes, he thought, a realist and a romantic can definitely make it work.

  So he would offer friendship in the hope of wearing her down.

  He grinned at the thought, secretly hoping that wearing her down wouldn’t take too long at all.

  “What are you grinning at?” she said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing. You look like you’re planning something.”

  At that moment the staff member returned with the coffee and green tea and Craig noted he studiously avoided looking at Rain. An inner growl of satisfaction didn’t surprise Craig. He’d gone caveman after years of not giving a shit.

  Rain picked up her cup of tea and sipped it. “You really do mean to interfere with my plans today, don’t you?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

  He felt pleasure roll through him as she tried to suppress a laugh and failed.

  “What am I to do with you?” she sighed, shaking her head at him like he was a naughty schoolboy.

  “Take a walk with me,” he said, taking hold of his own coffee. “We’ll finish up here and then just stroll about. It’s a nice day out. Unless”—his gaze dropped to the floor where he saw her heels peeking out beneath the table—“you can’t walk too long in those sexy-as-fuck shoes.”

  She ignored his purr of flirtation. “Sweetheart, I’ve been wearing heels since I was fourteen. I could run a marathon in these bitches.”

  Craig laughed. “I like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “You calling me ‘sweetheart.’”

  Her eyes narrowed in suspicion again. “I thought we were just going to be friends?”

  “Friends flirt.” He shrugged.

  “Only the kind that fuck.”

  Lust hit him in the gut and traveled straight to his dick. He shifted uncomfortably, taking in a slow breath.

  Obviously seeing the heat in his eyes, Rain leaned back in her chair as if to distance herself from it. “Seriously? I can’t even use that word without it turning you on?”

  “Considering the sight of your mouth wrapping around that word makes me picture said mouth wrapped around something else, then no . . . Unless we’re somewhere I can do something about my hard-on, then please don’t say that word.”

  Her eyes widened at his brutal honesty before her gaze flew around the room. When it came back to him she looked annoyed. “You can’t speak like that in public. Someone might have heard you.”

  “Coming from the woman who just used the word ‘fuck’ in relation to the actual act.”

  She stared at him a moment and then huffed, “Fair enough.”

  Craig chuckled, amused at his inability to pretend mere friendship with this woman. “The whole friends thing isn’t working out quite as planned.”

  Rain smirked, amusement gleaming from those gorgeous big dark eyes of hers. “No, it’s not. Which is why I thought it was a bad idea to begin with.”

  “It’s not a bad idea. According to my mother the secret to a long-lasting relationship is friendship and passion. My ears were practically bleeding at the time she was going on about it,” he joked, “but now I think those were wise words. So friendship? Not a bad idea. Pretending this could be just a friendship? Bad idea.”

  “Craig . . .” Rain lowered her gaze to her cup. “I told you I can’t.”

  “Will you try the friendship part at least if I promise to leave the other stuff out of it? At the moment,” he added.

  “Why are you so determined?” She leaned forward, desperation in her eyes that at once made him want to protect her, but also made him want to howl with satisfaction. She wouldn’t be feeling desperate if she didn’t feel something for him. Something she didn’t want to feel, but she felt nonetheless.

  Shit. When he finally met a woman he actually wanted around in the morning he had to go and choose one as complicated as bloody Rain Alexander.

  “Is it because you want to sleep with me and haven’t yet?”

  Irritation coursed through him like a whiplash. “No, it isn’t, and it’s an insult to both of us to suggest otherwise.”

  She glowered at him. “You can’t get angry at me for jumping to that conclusion, Craig. You are the biggest flirt I’ve ever met and you tried to get into my knickers the first night we met.”

  “Well now I’m trying to get to know you.” He threw back the last of his coffee, attempting to quell his exasperation. “And if you weren’t so goddamn stubborn you’d just let me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I like being around you,” he admitted.

  That seemed to take the wind out of her sails. Rain slumped in her seat. “You like being around me?”

  “Yes. For some crazy reason I do.”

  Her lush mouth curled up at the corners at his teasing remark. Their gazes held for what felt like forever, the coffeehouse disappearing around them, until the world consisted of just them.

  “Okay,” Rain finally said, the word soft, “let’s get to know one another better.”

  Relief, more relief than he’d ever expected to feel, rushed through him. “Does that mean you’ll take that stroll with me?”

  She finished her tea, grabbed her purse from the back of her chair, and stood up. “Where are we strolling?”

  * * *

  They walked at a leisurely pace toward the Royal Mile and wandered along it, talking and stopping occasionally to look at street art and a couple of stalls set up for the tourists. While they walked, they talked, and they pretty much covered everything from food to music to politics to business to family and so on.

  They’d strolled up along George IV Bridge and toward the university, which they were now bypassing as they headed toward The Meadows.

  “I can’t believe you actually think The Clash are rubbish.” Craig stared at her aghast.

  “I can’t believe you think that’s music.” She huffed.

  “And Dinah Shore is music?”

  “Yes,” she said adamantly. “Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Glenn Miller, Nat King Cole, Evelyn Knight. That’s music.”

  “Do you like anything outside of the 1940s?” he teased.

  “Yes.” She mock scowled at him. “The Beatles. Amy Winehouse. Oasis. Adele. The Killers. Lana Del Rey.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s all I can think of right now.”

  “So what’s wrong with The Clash?”

  Rain wrinkled her nose, making him want to kiss it. “It’s not just The Clash. It’s all British punk rock. It makes my ears bleed.” She shot him a speculative look. “I never would have taken you for a punk rock fan.”

  He smiled. “You think you have me all figured out but you don’t.”

  “I’m starting to realize that.”

  Sounds of children’s laughter met their ears as they wandered into the heart of The Meadows. They followed the sound to the children’s play park and Craig noted Rain smile.

  “Do you want kids?”

  She looked startled by the question. “Now?”

  He laughed. ‘No.”

  “Oh. In that case, yes. Eventually. When I’ve seen a bit more of the world, when I feel a little more grown-up. You?”

  “Aye, eventually,” he admitted, realizing then that he did. It wasn’t something he’d thought a lot on, but he’d always known that when he finally found the right woman, children would naturally follow.

  “Another surprise,” she murmured. “This is turning into an interesting walk.”

  His gaze fell to her feet. “You’re sure you’re alright doing all this walking in those heels?”

  Rain g
ave him a soft smile that might as well have been a giant thump on the chest. “I’m fine. But thank you for asking.”

  In that moment he really wanted to take her hand in his, but he restrained himself. This was going well and he didn’t want to ruin it by pushing her.

  “This was one of the first places I brought Darcy when she finally agreed to come live with me in Edinburgh.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. We had a picnic over by those trees.” She pointed off in the distance. “Things were still a bit strained between us and I was probably trying too hard. We were sitting in awkward silence munching on these gourmet sandwiches I’d bought—not homemade as I have absolutely no culinary skills whatsoever—when these two cute guys playing football near us sent the ball crashing into our picnic. They came over to apologize and ended up chatting with us a while. They left with our numbers.” She grinned happily at the memory. “Darcy looked at me like I’d just worked a miracle and she said ‘I love it here.’ It was silly and they were just two cute guys who never lasted beyond two dates, but they took us outside of the only thing that we had in common at the time—my aunt and the hurt she’d caused us. We needed the reminder that there was more connecting us than just that. And here we found it.”

  Craig’s heart had started to pound as soon as she mentioned her aunt and the abuse she’d caused them. A fierce wave of protectiveness rushed over him and he found himself mentally promising not to let anything happen to this woman.

  His feelings for her were growing intense too fast. He knew that. But it was also a fucking rush, a thrill he hadn’t expected from life.

  “Do you still live with your sister?” He managed to speak normally despite the deep thoughts and emotions he was experiencing.

  “Yeah. We actually live in Morningside. We moved there three months ago when the business picked up. It’s a nice flat.”