Chapter 12 Thane
THANE
There was nothing worse than starting the day flustered, and that was exactly what I was doing.
Eilidh had been sick through the night but was bright and bubbly this morning, confirming my suspicions that she’d eaten too much junk food.
I’d finally wrangled the confession out of her that she’d snuck downstairs after I’d gone to bed to eat out of the bags of sweets I’d bought for the kids to take to the Halloween party at school the next night.
Her stomach only held it down for an hour before it wanted back out again.
And I was knackered. There was nothing worse than holding your wee girl in your arms while she cried and begged you to make her feel better. Thankfully, after throwing up a few more times, she fell asleep. She woke early and seemed as full of beans as ever.
While I felt like I’d been dragged through a hedge backward.
The whole thing had thrown me off, and before I knew it, despite Regan being there to take care of everything else, I found myself running out the door, late for work.
After parking my car in the underground garage, I dashed into the lift that would take me up to the company’s floor. The building was new and modern, and it stood out in the small city center with its black tinted glass.
Pre-twentieth century architecture mostly made up the skyline of Inverness with an eclectic (and unsuccessful) mix of midcentury brutalism. Just a few minutes’ walk from the train station, right in the center of town, my architectural firm rented the eighth floor of the new building.
To my growing impatience, the lift stopped at reception to let more people on. One of those was Keelie Tanner. The attractive brunette smiled, her eyes lighting up at the sight of me as she practically pushed two men out of the way so she could stand next to me. I tried not to show my amusement.
“Keelie,” I greeted her.
“Good to see you. How are you?” She studied me as if I was the most fascinating man on earth.
And I wasn’t entirely immune to that. What man would be?
It was flattering as hell. Keelie worked as a financial advisor on the floor above mine.
She’d started chatting one day in the elevator and sometimes she’d stop by my car when I was leaving at night to see how my day had gone.
Through those small interludes, I’d learned a fair bit about her.
She was a single mum after going through a divorce three years ago, and it was nice she understood the trials of single parenthood.
And something I hadn’t really thought about but seemed to stick in my mind now as I looked at her, Keelie was my age—thirty-seven—though she’d just turned it in June, and my thirty-eighth was in two weeks.
Lachlan’s birthday was a mere six days before mine, so the family had planned a birthday dinner for us both next weekend.
Still, less than a year between me and Keelie.
That was appropriate.
Not that I was thinking of dating Keelie. As nice as she was, and as much as we got along, I wasn’t in the mood for dating anyone.
“So what do you think?” she queried just as the elevator stopped at my floor.
I had no idea what she’d asked. “I’m sorry, Keelie. Eilidh was ill last night. I’ve barely slept, I’m like a zombie, and I’m running late. I’ll catch you later, yeah, and we can talk then.” I got out of the lift as Gary from payroll did. I hadn’t even realized he was on the lift with me.
“How are you?” I gave the payroll admin a polite smile.
“That was brutal,” Gary answered in return.
I tensed. “Excuse me?”
The young man smirked. “How you blew off the MILF on the lift.”
“MILF …” I scowled as I realized who Gary was referring to. “Keelie?”
“Aye, her. I might use that trick to let down a bird in the future.”
“Wait, what?” Dread filled my gut.
Gary’s eyes widened. “You actually weren’t listening to her, were you? Mr. Adair, she asked you out. In front of everybody.”
Fuck.
Cursing myself, I bristled all the way to my office. I didn’t want to date Keelie, but I couldn’t believe my woolgathering had mortified her in front of a lift filled with people. I’d have to find her later and apologize.
Something else to look forward to.
Five minutes later, my day grew worse when I realized I’d left my portfolio and 3-D model at the house.
“No, no, no.” I needed the damn thing for an important meeting with our client in forty-five goddamn minutes.
I pushed away from my desk and groaned. While I had most of it on my computer, the folio was filled with hand-drawn additions to the digital files, as well as notes and photograph clippings.
The visuals helped with the presentation.
“To hell with it.” I’d have to reprint the digital drawings and do what I could.
My desk phone rang, the blinking red light telling me it was reception. What now? “Adair,” I answered abruptly.
Brian, the company receptionist, answered, “Good morning, Mr. Adair. I have a Regan Penhaligon at reception. Shall I send her along?”
What was Regan doing here? Was Eilidh okay? My heart raced. “Yes, yes.” I slammed down the phone and hurried to meet her halfway.
As I spotted Regan rushing down a corridor, checking left and right, searching for my office, my heart slowed at the sight of my portfolio and model in her hands. She’d come all the way to bring them to me?
“Regan?”
Her head turned toward me, and I ignored the way my gut twisted when our eyes met.
Regan heaved a sigh of relief as we drew to a stop before one another.
Her light, floral perfume tickled my nose.
When she was working, she’d taken to wearing a uniform of jeans and a sweater now that it was chillier outside.
Today she wore a long, camel-colored wool coat over her jeans and somehow made it look chic with her Converse.
Her hair spilled around her shoulders in perfect, silky red-gold waves.
I realized over the weeks that she was just one of those women who looked well put together, no matter the occasion.
“Your phone is switched off,” she said, her eyes big and round, lashes fanning with the almost accusatory doe look.
“It is?” Fuck.
“Yeah. I spotted your model on the dining table about twenty minutes after you left and tried to call you to come back for it, but I went straight to voice mail.”
“Who’s watching Eils and Lewis?”
“Robyn. She took them to school. Don’t worry, Eilidh is much better and insisted on going because she didn’t want to miss the Halloween party tonight.”
“You didn’t have to come all the way out here,” I said, marveling that she’d driven all the way to Inverness. Regan was still wary of the roads here. Though familiar with Ardnoch, she hadn’t driven farther afield.
“I thought you had that meeting?”
“I do.” I took my work from her, our fingers sliding together with the transfer. I placed the model on the floor at my feet. “I’ll worry about you driving back now.”
Her expression softened. “I’ll be fine. I got here, didn’t I?” She frowned. “Though I’m pretty sure I’m parked illegally.”
I grinned. “It’s Lachlan’s car. He’ll get the ticket.”
Her laughter filled the space between us, and my gut tightened again.
Bloody hell.
“Adair.” A booming voice made me wince seconds before a hand came down hard on my shoulder.
Christ. I knew who it was without looking.
Paul Urquhart: mediocre architect and arsehole extraordinaire.
“Paul.” I sent an apologetic look to Regan, and she frowned in confusion.
“And who is this?”
I tensed and turned to my colleague. Paul studied Regan with the same heated sneer he’d give a lap dancer.
The man was pure sleaze. I knew and hated this, but I’d never wanted to punch him as much as I did at that moment.
Needing Regan gone from Paul’s presence, I opened my mouth to dismiss her. But she spoke first.
She held out a hand. “Regan. Thane’s nanny.”
Paul couldn’t even hide his surprised delight. He shook Regan’s hand, enfolding hers in both of his. “Enchanté, Regan, nanny of Thane.”
Something took over—obliterating my manners—at the sight of Paul touching Regan. I grabbed him by the bend of the elbow and yanked him off her.
“Regan, thank you for the portfolio, but we’re done here,” I clipped out impatiently.
She flinched. “Sure. I’ll see you later.” She marched away, her coat fluttering behind her. Regret filled me.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I had a headache coming on.
“Nanny.” Paul’s slithering tone prodded my eyes open again. He grinned lasciviously at me. “That’s your nanny?”
“What of it?”
“Does she live with you?”
“Paul,” I warned.
His eyes lit up. “She does!” His gaze shot down the corridor to where Regan had disappeared.
“How do you sleep at night knowing prime pussy like that is under your roof? Unless …” He winked at me.
“Aye, nobody would blame you if you were paying her a wee bit extra to take care of Daddy. Look at your face.” He barked out a repulsive laugh.
“Don’t feel guilty, Adair. Women are all sluts.
You’d just be giving her what she wants. ”
Later, I would blame it on lack of sleep.
Whatever the reason, one minute Paul was on his feet, the next on his knees, clutching his bloodied nose.
It had been a horrendous day.
Beyond shattered, I walked into the house to find it quiet. Aromatic spices suggested dinner was ready or almost. Regan, to everyone’s surprise, had proven to be a damn decent cook.
However, I was used to Eilidh running to greet me, or at least the sounds of my children’s voices filling the large house. Instead, I heard music playing low.