34. Chapter 34
Chapter 34
A Tasting in the Barrel Room
She stood alone in the barrel room, slowly walking and taking in her surroundings.
“I should huv ken I’d find ye here.” Lachlan stood leaning casually against a stone wall near the entrance, only a few feet away from her.
“Oh my God, Lachlan, you scared me half to death,” she said with a start, and he wondered if the look in her eyes was something more than nerves.
“Sorry, lass, I didnae mean to catch ye off guard.” He watched her savouring the sight of her in his cask cellar. Many people had walked these rooms, but none so captivating as Violet Munro.
“I’m surprised you managed to steal away.” There was something in the way she said it. He recognized it. Subtle as it was, she sounded jealous. Had she seen him dancing with Anna?
“Aye, it’s been a busy evening. And of course, I have hosting duties to attend, whether I wish to or no’.” He hoped to make it clear without saying the words that the dance she might have seen was a duty and nothing more. "Ye look beautiful, Violet.” Beautiful was the understatement of the decade.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, looking down shyly. Didn't she know how gorgeous she was? How tempting?
“How was your trip?” She asked, turning toward the casks casually, as if to inspect them—although he felt certain she was trying to deflect from the chemistry that flickered so readily between them.
“It went well,” he said casually. “I could’ve used your counsel on a few things, though. I missed talking with ye.”
“You did?” She turned back to him, their eyes connecting.
“Aye, verra much.”
She studied him as if she were trying to decide how much stock to put into his words, but then she turned away from him. “I can’t believe you grew up with all this.” She waved her arm, gesturing to the casks, and changing the subject. He'd let her—for now.
“I suppose it’s not your typical childhood, but it was a good one.” He supplied.
“I bet.”
“We spent a lot of time here, both in the distillery working and learning, but also out on the land. It’s where I mastered my hide-and-seek skills.”
She giggled, and it was like music to his ears. “One of the top childhood skills.”
“Aye.” He chuckled. “Right up there with tag and red rover."
She laughed. He loved to see her so light-hearted. It was the first time since she'd been working at the sanctuary that she had let her guard down enough to speak of something other than business. It seemed like her walls were not so high tonight.
“I learned not only how to make whisky but how to take pleasure in drinking it.” He gave her a wink and stepped over to the casks.
She nodded. “I can imagine.” A distant roar of laughter sounded from upstairs. “It’s pretty packed up there,” she said lightly.
Lachlan turned and closed the distance between them, not taking his eyes off hers. “Aye, it is, and of all those people, it was ye I wanted to see tonight.”
Her mossy green eyes looked up at him.“Really?” There was a sweet little quiver in her voice that awoke his cock.
Her cupid bow lips were slightly parted, and he could feel the chemistry thumping between them, sparking wildly, like atoms bouncing around trying to escape a stopped beaker. A wave of primal satisfaction rolled through him as she looked up at him with desire in her eyes. Mine— the word felt like a sacred oath.
“Aye, really.”
Violet closed her eyes for a moment, savouring his words. Lachlan had been on her mind when he seemed to appear out of thin air. And heaven help her, he was looking at her much like he had before he'd left on his business trip. Something was happening between them. She could feel it in every cell of her body.
It was the first time she'd seen him in a kilt, and she couldn't help the vision of being ravished by this highlander from skittering through her mind. He looked so tall and handsome in his tux. The kilt was deep navy and green with a pinstripe of red—like the blanket she'd bid on. Was it a family tartan?
Being alone with him now and the way he was looking, it was like she could feel her blood storming through her body, making it ache hungrily.
“Why are ye down here alone, lass?” His voice had grown husky.
“I was just, um, on the whisky tour.” She couldn’t keep the breathiness from her words as he'd stepped closer to her.
His eyes never left hers, and she swallowed, not knowing what he intended. Too many times, she’d hoped for something that never happened. Despite her every nerve ending firing, she didn’t dare let herself believe that he was looking at her like he wanted her.
He stood before her and leaned in so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. “I think ye may huv lost your tour group, lass.”
“So it would seem.” She glanced toward the empty doorway, realizing she was very much alone now with Lachlan, and a delicious shiver danced across her skin.
When she turned back to face him. He was watching her intently, his cerulean blue eyes glittering in the dim, warm light. It was almost unnerving. He was standing so close to her—too close for business. Too close for a colleague. Too close for a boss. She could smell his cologne, see his five o’clock shadow. He was filling her senses, and she was getting lost in the heady feeling of it all.
“And have ye had the chance to try the brew?” His voice was as smooth as the whisky he spoke of.
“I think I’ve gone and missed that part." She pouted, feigning sadness.
“Och, lassie, we cannae huv that,” he said, soothingly playing along. “It's a good thing I happened upon ye then.” He gave her a sexy wink full of promise and took her hand, leading her past a row of casks and around a corner she hadn't noticed before. They stopped in front of a barrel that looked more weathered and old than the others. All the cask barrels lay on their sides, including this one with its time-worn wood.
“Ye cannae go on a whisky tour and no' sample the whisky,” he said, decidedly, as he pulled out a plug from the side of the barrel and dipped in a long copper turkey baster-looking thing into it. “The best way to huv whisky is straight from the cask.”
“I’m intrigued,” she said, watching him. "What is that?" She nodded to the copper pipe he dipped into the barrel.
"This? This is a whisky thief. We use it to steal a wee taste before it's bottled."
"Oh, wow, I didn't know you could do that." She watched intently. “So, is this part of the tour?"
“When you huv the tour with the owner, aye.” He threw her his crooked smile, making her knees go weak—par for the course—and held the tube up, gesturing for her to come sample its contents.
Oh man . Violet felt her carefully built walls crumbling. Not only did he look like he stepped out of a Scottish GQ magazine, but their easy banter also made him hard to resist. She could blame the drinks, the magic of the night, or this place, but the truth was, she had more than a little crush on the man. He looked up at her expectantly, waiting for her to come over. She looked toward the door where the others had long since gone through. Andy was clearly too caught up to notice her absence. What would it hurt?
“Angus, the tour guide, told us these casks held the original recipe whisky,” she said as she tentatively stepped toward him. God, what was she doing? She should probably just go catch up to the group. There was danger written all over this situation, and she knew it. But she stood before him with her legs unwilling to walk her out the door. She’d dreamed of him flirting with her, wanting her, but she also fought against it and told herself not to want him.
“Those barrels dinnae, but this one does. This brew has been made in the same manner with the same ingredients for over four hundred years. My grand-da’s great-great-nan created this brew and used it at first as a home remedy for illness, but it was so good that everyone who tried it was always wantin’ more. Demand grew, and the distillery was born.”
“Really? It was a woman who started it all?” Violet asked, surprised.
“Aye.” Lachlan’s eyes were locked on her.
Her heart skipped a beat. Damn him.
“I dinnae ken why Angus always leaves that part out. It’s my favourite bit.”
"So is it the holy grail healing power whisky?" she asked, peering into the blackness of the hole in the cask where the cork had been.
His rich chuckle rippled down her spine like a hot shower on a winter's day, melting her bones. "Perhaps ye should test it and see." His eyes glinted with mischief.
He held the whisky thief toward her like it was a spoon with magic medicine she was supposed to sip.
“No glass?”
He shook his head. His grin gave away how much pleasure he took in her uncertainty. “Tilt yer head back and open yer mouth, V.”
“Seriously?”
He cocked his head. His eyes answered in the affirmative. She’d come this far. She wasn’t going to miss out on the four-hundred-year-old scotch recipe just because she didn’t have a glass. She did as he said, tilted her head back, and opened her mouth for him. He held the copper whisky thief above her and let the light amber liquid slowly drip into her mouth. She closed her eyes and revelled in the flavours that slid over her tongue.
Tilting her head back up, she saw his eyes drop to her neck as she swallowed. There was a wild hunger in his eyes, not unlike a tiger eyeing its prey, and god help her, she liked this feral Lachlan.
She dipped her head back slightly and opened her mouth again, and he allowed more scotch to drip in. The last drop hit her lips as she closed her mouth to savour the dram. She licked the smoky sweetness from her lips, all the while watching Lachlan as he watched her. She didn't know which of them was more mesmerized.
He brought the copper above his own mouth, allowing a good mouthful to pour in, and his eyes landed back on her. It felt as if he couldn't bear to look away from her for too long.
“Liquid gold,” she said, seeing the pleasure soften his handsome features as he swallowed. “How old is this one?”
“This one," he said, putting a hand on the old barrel, "is sitting currently at thirty years.”
"Wow, that's old.”
Lachlan chuckled. "My da had it casked when my brother Alex and I were born."
Violet laughed. "Let me clarify, it's old for scotch. ”
"We have two barrels of a whisky that has been aging in sherry casks for sixty-nine years.”
“No way!”
“Aye. We hope to get it to seventy-five years, and we'll see what's left after the angel's share.”
“Angel's share?" Violet thought back to Andy talking about the magical healing powers of the hidden whisky.
"It's the whisky that evaporates over time, but we ken 'tis heaven's angels having their fill," he said with a playful wink.
"Aww, I love that. Maybe your great nan and Helena sit together and enjoy a sip or two." Violet smiled up at him, but Lachlan's expression grew serious. She suddenly regretted her words. She hadn't meant to be insensitive. Lachlan's eyes seemed to be penetrating her soul. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—“
"Ach, my wee Canadian, always apologizing. Dinnae, V. I've never thought of it before. I honestly dinnae ken if I believe in angels, but somehow, I can see those two in my mind’s eye cackling over a wee dram, bletherin' away. It's a nice thing to think. Thank ye.”
Violet was relieved. She never wanted to upset Lachlan. She definitely had a crush on the man, but she also had grown to care about him. "How old is your oldest bottled whisky?" she asked, now more curious.
He raised his brow. "We have a small batch of bottles from 1888."
"Wow, now that is old. Have you ever opened a bottle?”
“Aye, we did one year. It was the new year before Helena died. It was one of the last times I remember us all being together as a family. It was such a celebration. We all took great pleasure in finally opening one of the bottles and sampling its nectar, and God, it was so pure and delicious. Unlike any I’ve know before or since.”
“That is so special that you were all able to share in that moment together.” Violet touched his arm in comfort, but all she could feel was his rock-hard bicep under his tux. The air suddenly seemed thicker. Sexual tension arose between them. His eyes were on her, hunger rippling on their blue surface.
“More lass?” His burr was deep.
She grinned, tilting her head back and opening her mouth, now accustomed to the process, and he let the scotch spill past her lips.
She swallowed and opened for more, savouring the flavours and the heat as it rolled down her throat. Then he closed off the cask and dropped the whisky thief nearby before one of his big hands gently held the back of her neck, and she heard his sharp intake of breath. He searched her eyes. She knew she should stop this, but she couldn't, and she didn't want to.
There was a longing in the way he looked at her that made her desperate to answer his need. Violet was completely immersed in the moment. All thoughts of making an escape evaporated. She wanted whatever was going to happen next. She couldn’t deny it or fight it. With his other hand, he held her face. He ran a thumb over her lightly parted lips. She could barely breathe, though her heart raced. She needed his kiss so badly.
“Ye are stunning, V.” His voice was thick with desire.
As if seeing and hearing her heart's desire, his lips crooked up to the side in a smile that was her undoing. Her heart skipped a beat as he lowered his lips to hers. The touch of his mouth on hers rocked her world. She was scorched. Even though they’d kissed before and that had been pretty damn amazing, this kiss was mind blowing. Perhaps because now, she really knew the man. Perhaps because there had been a tension between them for so long, or perhaps because this time, he was kissing her. She hadn’t realized until now just how much she desperately wanted him.
His lips lingered on hers, and her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. They’d kissed before, but this was very different. She’d barely known him then. There was so much longing and need built up now. The feel of Lachlan Mackenzie actually kissing her was earth-shattering.
His lips had gently teased against hers before pressing more firmly. Lips tangling with each other. He pulled away briefly to look into her eyes again as if confirming that she wanted this too. And she did—god, she really did.
With a low growl, he took her mouth in his again, sliding his tongue against hers. He kissed her harder, deeper, like kissing her was the only thing keeping him alive. Violet had never been kissed like this. It was all-consuming. She opened her mouth to him, craving more and more, and he plunged his tongue deeper, ferociously tasting her. Her body thrummed for him.