Читать книгу Scotland for Christmas - Cathryn Parry - Страница 10
ОглавлениеSHE HAD SURPRISED HIM.
Isabel Sage wasn’t anything like Jacob had expected. Oh, on the surface she looked just like the photo Lee had sent him. Poised and put together. With her long blond hair, her list of accomplishments and that smiling expression, she appeared the consummate Golden Girl. Until he’d actually met her, he would have thought her a spokesmodel. Or a newscaster. Maybe a television personality.
Even a fresh-faced, though privileged, girl next door.
But beneath the surface, she was something else. An heiress to an industrialist’s fortune? Nope, he never would have guessed that. He interacted with people from that background every day, and Ms. Sage was unique because she didn’t display an entitled attitude.
Instead, she was accommodating. Pleasing. Appealing.
He couldn’t let her too close to him—though he understood why she was asking him to treat her the way she was. He was starting to respect that she had a legitimate strategy, flying under the radar as she was. Maybe he could handle her sitting up front with him, at least until they left Manhattan.
“We’ll switch out the seating arrangement once we’re out of the city,” he said to her, taking the handle of her suitcase. “When no one can see us, you can go back to sitting behind the partition.”
Ms. Sage said nothing. Her expression was set in that accommodating smile again, that really said very little.
He just couldn’t stop staring at her. He knew he should move faster, but he was stuck, one hand resting on the doorknob, the other gripping her suitcase.
And then a call came in to her cell phone.
She looked blankly at him.
He shook his head slightly. Don’t. Don’t pick up, he willed her. We need to get going.
But she was already glancing at the screen. Not much passed her face in terms of emotion. This woman would make a great poker player.
“Excuse me.” She turned her back to Jacob. Spoke in low tones into the cell phone. No longer the American accent she probably used to blend in but a sweet lilt to her words that he clearly recognized as Scottish.
Her voice struck a chord in him, deep inside. Made him feel centered in a way he hadn’t expected to feel in her presence.
Mentally shaking himself, he focused on what she was saying. Obviously, she knew the caller. Her voice had risen in surprise.
“Where are you?” she asked the caller. “Don’t worry, I know it’s confusing. Please stay put, I’ll come to you instead.”
Oh, no. Walkabout, he automatically thought. His Secret Service team’s expression for dignitaries who suddenly went off script, necessitating a massive operational response to accommodate the protectee’s whims.
As Jacob went rigid, his hand automatically moving to a radio at his belt that wasn’t there because this was an unofficial operation, she was fumbling at her desk for a pen, holding the cheap plastic cap between her teeth as she scribbled.
“No, it’s not a problem about being lost,” she said. “Yes, I can find you.” Laughter seemed to flutter from her lips. “Actually, I’m just thankful that you’re here. You have no idea. God, how I’ve missed you.”
What the hell?
She turned to look at Jacob, but he just gripped her suitcase handle tighter.
“Change of plans,” she said lightly to him as she pocketed her cell phone. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Jacob, but...er, we won’t be needing your services after all.”
We? Who’d been on the phone? A boyfriend?
“Ma’am,” Jacob said by rote, and then stopped, remembering. This wasn’t a regular assignment. All his training was out the window as far as Ms. Sage was concerned.
He sighed, swiping his hand over his forehead. She was going through the clothes in her closet, shuffling through hangers.
“Ah, Isabel, why don’t you tell me what’s going on so that I can help, too.”
“That was my boyfriend.” Her cheeks were flushed and rosy. “I’m sorry, Jacob. I know this is unexpected and I’m as surprised as you are, but we really don’t need you to drive us to Vermont.”
“What? What are you talking about? What’s changed?”
“Alex dislikes security. He...especially dislikes guns....” She glanced at Jacob’s midriff, letting the sentence fade away.
Instinctively he covered his service weapon. There was no way he could lose this assignment. “Where is this Alex?” he barked. Jacob disliked the guy already.
At the tone of his voice, Ms. Sage froze, kneeling, a dress in her hand, in the midst of unzipping the upright suitcase he still held so she could stuff it inside.
“I’m sorry,” he said, unhanding her suitcase and stepping back. Watch the intensity. He couldn’t just order this woman around. He had no authority over her. She could fire him at any time, and it appeared she just had.
And oh, cripes, he needed this assignment. The simple truth was he needed her more than she needed him. She had little use for him, in fact.
He eyed the clothing she was adding to her luggage. “Are you still going to Vermont?” he asked in a calmer voice.
“Yes,” she said, zipping the suitcase again. “I realized I forgot an outfit. In any event, Alex and I will handle the logistics of getting there, thank you.”
“At least let me drive you to him,” he said. Wherever this Alex was, they could all discuss it there. Jacob would prevail. He had to.
One advantage was that Alex apparently didn’t know enough to get himself a cab. And it appeared he was calling Isabel on a borrowed cell phone.
He looked at Isabel, but she was shaking her head. “No, really, I’ll call a taxi and—”
A knock sounded on her door. Inwardly, Jacob groaned again—nothing about this day was going right—but he did his job and opened the door before she could.
The short young man—mid to late twenties—with horn-rimmed glasses and spiked hair stood in her doorway. The one with the Che Guevara T-shirt.
Really? Really? Jacob thought.
“I didn’t get to say hello to your boyfriend,” Che Guevara said to Isabel. He peered at Jacob and stuck out his hand.
“And you are?” Jacob said, squeezing Che’s hand hard, playing this for all it was worth. If he got Ms. Sage tangled up in her own lies, then she couldn’t dismiss him so easily.
“I’m Charles. I’m Isabel’s economics partner.” He winced and shook out his hand.
Isabel hastened to intervene. This time she just looked confused about her backfired plans. “Charles, thanks for stopping by. I, ah, sent the document to your email already.”
Jacob noted that her voice once again held no trace of a Scottish accent.
“I got it,” Charles said. “Have a good weekend.” He left them.
“How is it that he’s a business student and yet is wearing a Che Guevara shirt?” Jacob asked her. “Doesn’t he know Che was a Communist?”
A terrorist, too, if you asked him, but he wouldn’t scare Isabel by using that word.
Isabel closed the door and smiled tightly at him. “Charles is a genius at economics. His father is an investment banker, and Charles will probably work with his firm, too, someday. Think of it as him trying to express his rebel side while he still can.”
Everybody was fooling somebody, it seemed. Without asking, Jacob picked up her suitcase. The good thing about Charles’s visit was that Isabel had dropped all talk about not needing him to drive her across the city to pick up her boyfriend.
As he held the door for her, Isabel smiled tremulously. He gave her a halfhearted smile of his own. Already he’d ratcheted down his intensity.
His intensity. He didn’t know why he’d thought of that.
Just...damn. What was happening to him?
* * *
OH, WHAT A tangled web we weave....
Isabel’s head was reeling. Never in a million years had she expected Alex to show up for the wedding. This changed everything. Now, she looked forward to the weekend—she’d added a dress because maybe they could go out to a romantic dinner alone.
His presence also solved her immediate problem of needing to make a good impression on her uncle. Malcolm had the advantage this weekend because it was his wedding, but Isabel couldn’t sit back, either.
Unfortunately, Jacob needed to leave.
She glanced at him. His brows were knit as he searched the storefronts for the Starbucks where Alex waited. Poor Alex. He’d asked the taxi driver at Kennedy airport to take him to her university, but the driver had dropped him at the wrong one. There were so many in Manhattan.
Jacob pulled the black SUV alongside the storefront with its familiar green logo. He didn’t seem too concerned, however. She unbuckled her seat belt as he turned to her.
“I’ll wait here for you.” He gave her an earnest look she hadn’t seen in his expression before.
“No, please, we’re fine. Thank you for the ride.”
“I’m not leaving you, Isabel.”
He had that steadfast look to his gaze, the one she was starting to recognize. It was refreshing, actually. Nice to think there was someone in this big, foreign city that she could count on.
However, she had Alex to pick up the slack from here. And Alex was waiting inside the coffee shop.
She opened the door and stepped onto the city street. Huddling beneath her jacket collar, she wrapped her scarf around her neck and went to the boot of his car. With her knuckles, she rapped on it.
Jacob rolled down his window.
“My suitcase, please,” she said.
There was only the slightest hesitation, but Jacob got out of the SUV and walked round to the back, too. With a click of his key ring the back hatch popped open. He retrieved her small case, extended the handle and placed it on the pavement.
She reached for it but his low voice stopped her. “I’ll wait here for you until I know that you’re safe.”
She made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. So intense, they seemed to burn, but not in a frightening way—in a way that she’d always yearned for.
Her breath sucked in, and for that split second, her fingers shook on the handle. But it wasn’t real, it was silly, and she broke eye contact.
Inside the coffee shop was Alex. Her true boyfriend.
Her heart gave a small leap. Alex had been with her from the beginning. He’d known her before the craziness with her family had happened. He’d been her wee mate, the boy next door. He’d been her first kiss. Her first love. Her only lover. This separation—her time in New York and Alex’s time in Scotland—was only short-term. They’d made an agreement—a logical pact—no matter how temporarily lonely and painful it had been for her. But he’d been showing her respect by yielding to her desires and letting her know that she was important, too. It wasn’t only his goals that mattered—hers did, too.
And so they’d had their months physically apart. Four consecutive terms—semesters, the Americans called them—for her, and for Alex, his intense training assignment. Their separation was almost over.... Next month was Christmas and then she would be home.
He’d surprised her with his phone call. Though, if anyone knew how important, how fraught with emotion Malcolm’s wedding was to her, it was Alex.
She stopped in the doorway of the coffee shop, searching him out. When she saw his familiar face across the room, she felt tears spring to her eyes. She hurried to him, the suitcase trolley wheels bouncing across the tiled floor.
Alex seemed gaunt. Thinner than usual. Three months since she’d physically seen him, and he looked...
When he saw her his mouth twisted in a frown.
She paused, confused. “Alex, I...”
He stood awkwardly, scraping the floor with his chair. It sounded like claws on a blackboard.
And then he looked at her suitcase, and then at her. He was genuinely bewildered. “Why do you have a case with you?”
Her heart sank, which should have told her something, but she didn’t want to listen to it. “It’s Malcolm’s wedding. You’re coming with me to Malcolm’s wedding this weekend. That’s why you surprised me...?”
His face had fallen.
Her voice wavered. “Isn’t it?”
After a long moment of him standing, staring at his shoes, and her trying to breathe through the lump of emotion that had lodged in her chest, he finally said, “Sit down, Bell. We need to talk.”
* * *
JACOB MANAGED THE miracle of finding a place to park the black SUV on the street. He slammed the door and headed for the coffee shop Isabel had entered.
Somehow, he had to convince these two to let him drive them both to Vermont. If Jacob didn’t have a legitimate reason to get to Vermont, then he wouldn’t have an opportunity to meet John Sage. That was unacceptable.
Inside, the familiar aroma of coffee hit him. Expensive coffee, five-bucks-a-cup coffee, the kind he couldn’t really afford but still found himself wanting anyway.
About a dozen patrons sat alone at tables, staring into screens. Two attendants were behind the counter—one at the register and one loudly frothing milk at an espresso machine. Jacob noted that the bathrooms were in the rear of the shop. There was just one exit that he could see. And Isabel was...
His heart softened. She stood with her side to him, one of the ends of her long wool scarf brushing the floor. She seemed to be...drooping.
He knew her enough by now to know that something was wrong.
Oh, hell. He didn’t want to feel sorry for her. She was just a means to an end.
Moving silently, he slid into a seat at the table near her, close enough to see and hear her conversation. He took out his smartphone, put on a headset and pretended to be inside the cocoon of his own digital world, like most people. But he wasn’t. He was listening to Isabel and her boyfriend.
Jacob had already pegged the guy. Slouching. Nervous. Didn’t meet her eye. Maybe Jacob would check into him later. For now, Jacob was just watching them. Doing what he was trained to do.
He sat with his back to the wall, keeping track of the situation. Who came into the shop, who went out. Checking for anyone obviously carrying weapons. Yes, it was New York, and certain things were illegal here, but that didn’t stop tragedies from happening.
“I haven’t talked with someone from home in so long, you’ve no idea how brilliant it is to see you,” Isabel Sage was saying to the boyfriend. Alex. She had that faint, alert smile on her face, her protective mask.
Jacob was beginning to understand this about her. Whatever thoughts or emotions she felt, she rarely showed them. What he’d first mistaken for privilege—and he should know better than to underestimate anyone—may just have been a damn good survival mechanism.
“Bell, I’ve come all this way to see you...because, er, it’s better to say certain things in person,” Alex was stuttering.
Jacob watched without moving his head so as not to alert them. “Of course it’s been a difficult separation for us,” Isabel said. Her mask was on tight.
“Please sit. You’re making me nervous.” Alex leaned back in his chair. The guy hadn’t gotten her a coffee. Hadn’t even pulled the chair out for her. Jacob had to keep from snorting his disgust.
Jacob wasn’t sure what Isabel was thinking, but he could imagine. She seated herself in a graceful motion and quietly folded her hands.
Alex coughed. “You’ve been quite busy in New York these months.”
“Yes, and when I return to Scotland for Christmas, we’ll have more time for each other,” she said brightly.
“I’ve been quite busy in Edinburgh, as well...” Alex’s cheeks flushed. He let his voice trail off.
Isabel licked her lips and smiled even harder. “I’m pleased to see you, Alex. I’m glad you’re here, really. You have no idea how much I’ve missed—”
“I’ve come because I’m breaking up with you, Bell,” Alex said abruptly.
Jacob’s heart slowed. Damn. He’d been dreading this even though the conversation had been taking this direction and he wasn’t surprised at the outcome. He glanced at Isabel.
Still with her composed mask. Wow, she was disciplined. “Pardon me?” she asked Alex. Her voice quivered slightly.
“I can’t live in this state of affairs any longer,” Alex muttered.
A small line appeared in Isabel’s forehead. “I see. Well, my schooling here is temporary. I’ll be home soon.”
“Yes, I know. And then you’ll be running your uncle’s company. You won’t need me anymore.”
“It’s...not guaranteed yet,” Isabel said. “He required that I come here—that’s why I’m in New York studying finance, why I have to be away from home.” She lowered her voice. “You know this. You alone know the stress and the pressure I’m under. Like no other person on earth, you know me.”
Jacob saw the tiny fissure in her mask. The signs of tension breaking through. He leaned closer. He’d given up the pretense of paying attention to the phone in his hand.
“Bell,” Alex said, “the point is there are brighter pastures for you out there. This...friendship between us...isn’t meant to be any longer.”
“Of course it is! And don’t you believe we have more than a friendship?”
Alex sat back. “I want out,” he said flatly.
Her face pale, Isabel pressed forward. “What if we...gave ourselves a break for now? After I’m home, we’ll start fresh with a conversation then.”
“I want to be friends with you,” Alex said. “Just friends. That’s all that I want.”
She took a deep breath. Jacob wasn’t sure she was getting what the guy was telling her. “I understand you’re angry with me,” she said to Alex.
“I’m not angry, Bell.”
“You...want more of my attention.”
“No. I’m ending it with you.”
“But that’s...daft,” she said, her voice getting even softer. “We’ve been together since we were children.”
“We were never together. Not truly. I don’t expect you to understand. I didn’t understand myself until recently. But...oh, bollocks. I didn’t want to tell you this way, but...I’ll just say it. I’ve met somebody, all right?”
“You...met somebody?” she repeated. Jacob waited for light to dawn. Or maybe she was just controlling her emotions as best she could.
“I’m seeing this woman,” Alex said. He spoke softly, his head down, staring at the table. Jacob felt himself heating inside. “I tried, Bell. I tried to make this work with us. But you’re meant for other things.”
“Alex, let’s go back to my flat. I’ll introduce you to my mates. You’ll...be part of my life here.”
“See. Look at you. Any other woman who’d just been told that her man was seeing someone else would be furious. Or perhaps hurt. But you don’t feel like other women, Bell. It’s not natural.”
Isabel crossed her arms. “I assure you, I feel. Very much. And right now I feel...I feel that we can fix this temporary rift.” She smiled bravely. “If we both want to.”
Alex glanced at his watch. “I have to go. I flew all the way here just so I could tell you in person. I’m not a bad bloke. I’m not breaking up by text message.”
“Alex—”
“Do I have to say it, Bell? Fine, you’ve made me say it.” Alex stared hard at the table. “I’m in love with her.”
Isabel’s mask split then. Wide open. Her look of anguish hit Jacob with a jolt.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did,” Alex said. “I asked her to marry me and she said yes. We’re planning a small wedding in June, at home.”
The pain on Isabel’s face touched Jacob. Her lips quivered. Her eyes watered. She seemed to be struggling to breathe.
But Jacob gave her credit. Because with a grit of her teeth and a fierce blink of her eyes, she controlled herself again. He could see the effort it took her to swallow the hurt, but she did. Bravely, she found her mask and put it on again.
By the time Alex—now Alex the ex—glanced up from his escape into checking his phone messages, Isabel was composed again. Her slip had been brief, and Jacob was sure he was the only person who’d seen it. Alex the ex certainly hadn’t.
“You’re handling this well.” Alex gave her a relieved smile. Unlike Isabel, he showed all his emotions on his face, in his vocal inflection, in his posture. “I knew you would, Bell. You handle everything like a champ.”
Alex coughed and stood. “Well, that’s sorted then. The meter’s running on my taxi. I have to go. But you’ll do well, I know you.” He had the temerity to smile at her in relief. “Look at you. Not a tear. Never a worry with you. That’s why I’m sure you’ll run your uncle’s company someday. Isabel Sage, CEO of Sage Family Products. No doubt you’ll be the one chosen.”
And then Alex leaned in and gave Isabel a bloke’s awkward fake-hug. Alex wasn’t even looking at her, not really. She kept her composure, and Jacob gave her credit for that. In her shoes, Jacob would have wound up and slugged the guy.
No, he wouldn’t have.
When it had happened to him, Jacob hadn’t slugged anybody. He’d stood stoically by while his ex had given him much the same kind of speech as Alex.
You know what your problem is, Jacob? You’re too intense. No one could live with that level of intensity every day.
Jacob got up from the table and shoved his phone into his pocket. He hadn’t thought about this stuff in years and years. And he wasn’t going to think about it again.
Isabel. Now that Alex was out the door and on the sidewalk, about to be whisked away by his cab with the running meter, Isabel was left alone. Thinking that no one was watching, she put her hand to her mouth. Jacob knew that no one—not one human on earth—could fake their feelings for too long, and Isabel Sage was definitely human. Her mask had crumpled, her face was turning green and she looked as if she was going to lose it.
Thinking fast, Jacob grabbed a pile of napkins from the counter and followed her.
She was running—stumbling, really—for the ladies’ room. This being New York City, no one seemed to notice. She could have stripped naked and belted out a breakup song at the top of her lungs with a full orchestra supporting her, and no one would have given her a second look.
He really needed to get the hell out of New York someday. God, he was trying. If not for that damn psychologist, he’d be in Washington, D.C., already, doing what he was meant to do.
But for now, it just made him angry, seeing people hurt unnecessarily—especially a kind person like Isabel.
She vomited all over the floor. With a mortified cry, she covered her mouth and ran into the bathroom. Jacob watched the door swing shut behind her.
The place was buzzing now. A typical midtown Manhattan coffee shop—short on space, long on people. But nobody was looking at him, or at Isabel. Most people had bent heads, staring at screens. Big screens, small screens, it didn’t matter. They walked while staring at screens, the thumb that held the phone swiping away. It was amazing what most people missed in their daily lives.
Jacob didn’t miss anything. Life came at him, smacking him square in the face. Emotions were his gut instincts, the way he made his decisions in the world. And what he felt for her was empathy.
The bathroom was tucked in a back corner. A yellow plastic bucket filled with water and a ragged mop was leaning against the wall nearby. Jacob quietly took the mop and cleaned up the floor. He also saw a yellow plastic tent, used by the cleaners, to block off foot traffic over wet floors, so he took that closed sign and unobtrusively placed it in front of the ladies’ room where Isabel had disappeared.
He stood back and waited. Minutes passed. A woman came around the corner to use the facilities. She walked right past his closed sign. She addressed Jacob, still blocking the door, as if he worked there. “Is someone in there?” she asked.
“Sorry,” Jacob said. “My girlfriend is sick inside.” He gestured to the men’s room. “No one is using that one. I’ll watch the door for you if you want.”
She smiled at him. “Thanks.” She went inside.
He crossed his arms and stood sentinel for Isabel. He would stand there all day if he had to.
It was a long time before she came out of that bathroom. From where he stood, she seemed miserable and stunned, not altogether aware of her surroundings. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying her heart out, and she had nothing left but limp muscles to carry her home. As she walked past a table, she bumped it.
She’d forgotten her suitcase, so he backtracked to retrieve it. Then he hurried ahead and clasped her by the elbow, steering her safely outside.
Once on the sidewalk, she tripped along, into the stiff wind that was whipping down Fifth Avenue. Her arms were folded over her chest, her too-high heels making her falter.
Jacob felt for her, he really did. Whereas before she’d seemed strong and confident, now she showed her inner fragility. Alex was long gone, back to his carefree life without her, no doubt.
Jacob pressed his hands into fists. Still, he did his job—head swiveling, aware of every person who moved into their zone—front, back, left, right, up on the building roofs, down below the subway grates, a cab that rolled past too slowly.
This woman he guarded was a Sage, a niece of the richest man in Scotland—one of the richest men in the world—so what was she doing, alone in a foreign city like this? Especially given her family history with a kidnapping, had she never considered her vulnerability?
Isabel stopped at the street corner, her bag dropping from her shoulder. Jacob stayed within arm’s length of her elbow, one eye on her and one eye on a man who was nosing too close to her. With a shake of his head, Jacob put his hand on his gun and shifted his jacket aside to display it. The man saw the service revolver and took a step sideways, then kept on walking.
Jacob glanced to Isabel, saw the pain on her face. Maybe since nobody was watching her, to her mind, she could let her feelings out. He alone saw this.
He sucked in his breath. What the hell was happening to him? A crush, on a protectee? For the past half hour, he’d entirely forgotten his true mission.
The most important thing he needed to do was to get Isabel Sage to that Vermont inn. Feeling anything for her—even empathy—wasn’t on the agenda.
Time to toughen up. Time to switch up his tactics.
