Catch My Breath

“You’re not? What are you doing instead?”

My brain was apparently on hiatus, because my mouth spouted off whatever the hell it wanted.

“You tell me.” I curled up on my side, closing my eyes.

“I’ll call you in the morning,” he paused. “Amelia?”

“Yes?”

“Sleep well.”

* * *

Getting Stephanie out of the hotel while dodging her questions was an exercise in elusiveness at its finest. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell her what I was doing for the day, I just didn’t know.

Riding down in the elevator proved to be more nerve-wracking than I had anticipated. I hadn’t been this giddy and nervous to see a guy since, well, never. I reminded myself to play it cool, that it was just a simple afternoon out in the city. Besides, I could fake a stomach cramp if I wanted an easy way out. The elevator doors opened and I strode through the lobby. I could see Alastair standing on the sidewalk, looking hot in a t-shirt and jacket with his hands tucked in the pockets of distressed jeans.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

“Lia.” He slid his emerald eyes over me in his dangerously alluring way. My resolve to resist him weakened by the second. Holding my hand, he traced along the palm with his thumb. The sensation made my vision double.

“I like you with your hair down.”

“Thank you.” I twisted the ends, mentally kicking myself for enjoying his flattery.

“Let’s go somewhere casual and fun. What do you say?”

“Do you even do casual and fun?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Depends. Would you like to go or not?”

I sighed dramatically. “Okay.”

* * *

"The object of this game is quite simple really. You have to score more points than me." Alastair tossed a pale pink ball in his hand, looking smug. I folded my arms across my chest. We were at a pub attempting to play snooker. It didn't sound too difficult. I gathered it was similar to pool, only the balls weren't numbered.

Fifteen red balls were arranged in a triangle. The pink ball that Alastair nonchalantly tossed around needed to be placed at the top of the triangle but couldn’t touch it. There were five other assorted colored balls. Each one had its own value. I grabbed my beer and circled the table.

Alastair grinned and leaned against it as I walked by. "Nervous, Meyers?"

"Not at all, Holden."

“Played a lot of English snooker while growing up in Florida then?”

“I didn’t grow up in Florida,” I corrected him, “I’m from Connecticut originally. And no, I didn’t play it, but I’m a fast learner.”

“While I admire your tenacity, you will lose."

He placed the pink ball on the table and reached for a cue stick. I watched him closely as he chalked it and leaned over the table. The tip of his tongue poked out of his mouth as he concentrated. In one smooth strike he broke the triangle, scattering red balls across the felt. He potted two of them immediately. His next shot wasn’t so great. The white cue ball skated past the yellow one he'd aimed for. I snickered.

"So glad you find me amusing." Alastair handed me the cue stick, motioning toward the table. "I believe it's your turn."

His smile nearly knocked me off my feet. I raised the stick, leaned over and aimed. Just as I was about to strike, he hovered over me.

"You're not going to hit anything with the cue pointed so low."

His warm breath tickled my ear, sending tremors rippling under my skin.

"You're distracting me. That's not fair."

"Just trying to be helpful. Give you a sporting chance and all that."

“Sport yourself over there so I can take my shot.”

The cue stick was difficult to hold thanks to my hands’ obscene levels of clamminess. I blew a wayward piece of hair away from my eyes and bent over the table again. Even though I couldn’t see him, I was keenly aware of Alastair’s eyes roaming slowly down my body.

I aimed, striking the white cue ball. It skirted and snapped against two red ones, spinning them into the corner pocket. Feeling more confident, I took another shot. By some stroke of beginner’s luck, I potted a green one and a brown one.

“Told you I was a fast learner,” I bragged.

He sidled up close, leaving me eye level with his mouth. An extremely persistent pounding noise filled my ears. Alastair bowed his head and looked down at me over the bridge of his straight nose. “Then I’ll have to teach you another game.”

I clasped the cue stick close to my legs. He cupped his hand around my hip and squeezed. Staggering backwards, I knocked into the table. It wobbled violently. Both of our pint glasses crashed to the floor, scattering shards around our feet. Several people stopped what they were doing and stared at us.

“Sorry about that,” Alastair called out. “We have a rather impassioned snooker player over here.”

Completely horrified, I apologized to Alastair and anybody else within earshot. This wasn’t normal behavior for me. But of course, being around him turned me into a nervous, twitchy mess. He pointed me to a nearby chair to sit while someone swept up the broken glass.

Un-freaking-believable.

"Are you alright?" he asked, bemused.

"I'm fine, thanks for your concern,” I grumbled. “Don’t think this is an excuse to get out of losing the game.”

When the broken glass was cleared away, I grabbed the cue stick and prepared for another shot. Alastair never had a chance. I beat him swiftly and succinctly. We negotiated a bet for the next game. Loser buys the winner a drink of their choice. The competitive juices started flowing. I wasn’t about to lose to this guy.

Four games and three pints later, it was clear I was out of my league against him. Apparently my beginner’s luck had run its course. Alastair didn’t seem to mind at all. He methodically made perfect shot after perfect shot.

“I didn’t mean to scare you off last night,” he said, leaning against the table. His statement was so out of the blue I stared at him in shock. Scare me off? I gripped my pint glass.

“You didn’t. I meant what I said.”

He clenched his jaw and rolled the cue stick between his hands. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or not. Pushing himself away from the table, he stood in front of me, dominating my line of sight. The pub became a vacuum.

“I find you very intriguing,” he stated.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Do I need to have a specific reason?”

Caught in the emerald glow of his eyes, I parted my lips to allow more oxygen. Another foggy haze messed with my logic.

“I was, um, just curious. I’m pretty boring,” I stammered.

“I highly doubt that.”

“You probably say—”

He hovered his lips over mine, stopping me in mid-thought. I could practically taste him. And my God, he smelled delicious. Not of cologne but shampoo and body wash and…him. It made me dizzy. He curled his hand around my waist, pulling me closer. I put my hands on his toned abdomen to steady myself.

“Come with me.”

It wasn’t a request. Those three words sent a shudder through me. The intensity of his stare was enough to get me to move. He laced his fingers through mine, leading me out to the curb. We hopped in a cab and went back to the hotel. My heart was beating a furious tattoo. As we walked through the lobby toward the elevators a daunting scenario took shape. What if Stephanie had already returned? Then you sit in the living room like a normal functioning adult, you moron.

When the elevator arrived, I stood as far away from him as the space would allow. It wasn’t easy. That crazy gravitational pull he had was drawing me toward him, one cell at a time. Electricity buzzed between us so quickly we could have powered the building.

We both let out audible sighs walking into the hall. I was relieved to see an empty suite when I opened the door. Stephanie must have Darren running laps with all the shopping she had planned.

“What are you smiling about?” Alastair looked at me curiously.

“Oh, I was just picturing Darren trying to keep up with Stephanie and her shopping marathon through Edinburgh.”

“I haven’t known Darren very long, but he always speaks very fondly of his American friend."

“How long have you known each other?”

“His agency does the marketing campaigns for my grandfather’s company. I know a few people who work there and ended up bumping into him at an event last year.”

He moved toward me in calculated, controlled strides. That intense, undeniable pull ignited again.

“I had a lovely time with you today.” He leaned so close to me I could feel his breath on my neck. Gasping, my eyelids fluttered closed. He was beyond dangerous. He was downright lethal. “Are you always so easily led back to a hotel with a stranger?”

“Do you always invite yourself into a strange woman’s hotel room?”

“Cheeky.”

“I have a feeling people need to be on their toes when they’re around you,” I grinned.

“Some might say that. But you’re not the type to ever let your guard down, are you?”

My smile faltered a bit. Those luminous eyes of his were very observant. Too observant for my liking. He laced his fingers through mine.

“I made the mistake of letting my guard down too much once. I’ve been paying for it ever since.” I swallowed back an acrid lump.

“Don’t let the ghosts of your past haunt your future,” he whispered. The look in his eyes betrayed the little pearl of wisdom he just dispensed. It was almost as though he said it more to convince himself than me.

“Your eyes are like butterscotch.”

“What?”

“The color,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Amber, or something like that. I always thought they were just, you know, regular brown.”

“There is nothing regular about them. Or you.” He lightly fingered my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear.

“Does this charm thing that you’ve got going for you work often?”

“Charm thing?” The corners of his mouth curled up. “I’ve had some success with it.”

“Have you?”

“It’s working right now.”

Someone is extremely confident. This spell he’d cast was messing with me.

“You’re quite lovely, Lia. Pity you’re leaving soon. I’d like to take you—” he paused, tracing his thumb over my lower lip. I shuddered. “—out. Again.”

“You would?” I asked hoarsely.

Nodding, he stroked the curve of my cheek. “Are you coming back to Glasgow after the wedding?”

“Yeah…yes. Saturday.”

Backing away from him, I bumped into the arm of the couch. I almost toppled over it, but managed to steady myself. Being in his presence made me so damn skittish, it was frustrating.

“I’m supposed to make an appearance at a cocktail party for my grandfather’s company.”

Oh good, he’s busy.

“You should come. Or we could go out to dinner.” Like an apparition, he was in front of me, stroking his fingers along my arm. “What do you say? Fancy spending the night with me?”

The unspoken promise behind that question nearly shattered me on the spot. This was supposed to be an easy trip across the pond. Go to the wedding, hang out with the family and go home. Not fend off an amazingly sexy, impossible-to-resist guy.

“Stop overthinking,” he ordered.

Stormy, dark eyes carved a path through my skull. I wilted beneath the strength of his stare. A shaky breath escaped my lips as he traced his finger along my jaw and down my neck. He drew me into his hypnotic orbit with such ease. I was powerless to resist.

“This is inevitable, Amelia. Don’t deny it.”

Inevitable? Each stroke of his fingers left a fiery trail in its wake. The smooth, soft skin of his cheek brushed against mine.

“Come with me.”

Oh Jesus, those three words. I jolted out of his seductive haze like I was on fire, trying to avoid his eyes. His expression was one of pure lust.

“No,” I whispered.

His mouth fell open slightly in surprise. “No?”

“No,” I repeated, louder. “Do you not hear that word very often?”

Impassivity dominated his features. He studied me as though I was the most confusing creature on the planet. We stood so close to one another I was overcome by his intoxicating scent.

“Why not?”

“Because,” I sighed. “I’m not interested.”

“In what, Lia? Food or drinks?”

“You know what I mean.”

He looked right through me, down into my soul. I didn’t know how it happened, but he pierced through my wall. There was something else behind his intense stare that made me flush. I tried to hold his penetrating gaze but dropped my eyes to his mouth. Not smart. It was very distracting.

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxed.

“I…”

The damp warmth of his lips on my neck ignited my blood. He teased along my throat, methodically kissing it. This sensual assault wreaked havoc on me, making my insides liquefy. Unable to hold off my own yearning any longer, I moaned. Alastair stopped nibbling on my neck and focused his lusty stare.

“Next Saturday?“ I asked as a hazy, sexually charged cloud fogged my brain.

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

I still wasn’t thinking straight.

“Brilliant.” He smiled. “Until we meet again.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“You know, I found out some interesting things about Alastair while you were busy on your mysterious date,” Stephanie glanced at me. We were sitting on the train heading down to Gretna Green. The Scottish countryside flew by in a blur of green and brown. I’d been quiet most of the trip, lost in my thoughts. Damn her for piquing my curiosity.

“And?”

She grinned. “He’s thirty-one, single and filthy rich. His grandfather is Samuel Holden, owner and CEO of Holden World Media. It’s a huge, billion-dollar corporation; TV, broadband, cell phones and music. Alastair is the chief financial officer and heir to the whole thing. You certainly have a way of attracting the high rollers.”

I cringed, feeling nauseous. Why does the universe have such a twisted sense of humor? Guys like that are trouble. They’re controlling, jealous and possessive. I just had an explosive break-up with one of them a couple of months ago. I refused to put myself through that again. But Alastair was…different? I wanted him to be.

“Sounds familiar,” I sighed.

“Oh my gosh. Alastair is nothing like Nathan. He has manners. I’m willing to bet he’d treat you like a princess.”

“It started like this with Nathan, too. Remember? He was all charming and fun, then wham! I couldn’t even make eye contact with another guy if he was in the same room.” I swallowed hard. “He broke me. I didn’t see it coming, but it happened. When I realized it, I was in too deep and…”

I stared at the floor, annoyed. Even now, he still had control over me. Bastard.

“Give Alastair the benefit of the doubt,” Stephanie said softly.

“We’ll see what happens next weekend at the cocktail party. Why is it you two were discussing him?” Stephanie and Darren engaged in more gossip-based conversations than anyone else on the planet. It was an obsession with them.

“Because you won’t. And because Darren knows him. He also overhears stuff from the girls in the office. They’re all enamored with him. Remember that blonde from the benefit? Sarah? Apparently, she’s been trying to get in Alastair’s pants for years.”

Jealousy cut through me like a hot blade. I had zero right to feel this way. He wasn’t mine or anything but the thought of him even flirting with another woman made my skin crawl. I slumped into my seat, looking out the window. I still had to reconcile what happened yesterday. Now that I was away from his magnetic sphere, I could think rationally. I shouldn’t have succumbed so readily to his seductive charms.

I stared out as green field after green field sped by alongside the train. I needed to quiet my mind and stop obsessing over this. My sister was getting married in a few days. That’s where my focus ought to be.

When we finally arrived in Gretna Green, we were greeted by a very excited bride-to-be. Seeing my little sister was always a treat. I missed her terribly.

“Did you guys have fun exploring Glasgow this weekend?” Dayna asked as we piled into the cab.

“Your sister did,” Stephanie volunteered. I glared at her.

Dayna fixed a curious stare on me. “What does she mean, Lia?”

“Nothing,” I said firmly. My sister’s eyes widened, but she didn’t press the issue.

“By the way, mom is on the rampage. She’s not real big on the wedding planner they have on staff at the castle. When I left to meet you guys, they were arguing over how the napkins should be folded.”

I burst out laughing. “If I ever get married, I’m eloping.”

“You will not.” She playfully chided me. “Any imperfections that mom notices at my wedding will get totally micromanaged for yours.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I snorted. The cab came to a rolling stop in front of Auchen Castle. Despite the gloomy gray skies, it was like entering a fairytale. When we walked in to the main foyer, I immediately saw our mother talking with the wedding planner.

“My girls,” Lillian Meyers exclaimed, hugging both of us. “Excuse me for a second.” She strutted back to a short, stout woman holding cloth napkins.

“Celeste, we can’t have these folded like that. People won’t be able to see the silverware.”

Dayna and I exchanged amused glances. Our mother was in her element. She loved planning a huge event. Spouting off orders to people was her other great love.

“Ah, the yin and the yang are here.” Our dad hugged us and grinned. He’d nicknamed us that when we were kids.

“Dad, are you going to call us that forever?” Dayna scrunched up her nose.

“Yes, blondie, I am.” He ruffled her hair, eliciting a squeal of displeasure from my sister.

“Joe, stop teasing her,” my mother scolded.

Living in Florida kept me away from my family for most of the year. Dayna only saw us at Christmas, so it was rare that the entire Meyers clan was in one place at the same time. Being scattered around the world seemed to work for us though.

* * *

The days and hours flew by as the wedding grew closer and closer. Guests arrived on Wednesday, and by Thursday there was a palpable excitement in the air. I was arranging the seating cards in alphabetical order, lost in thought.

“How’s work going Lia? Is it too stressful?”

I looked up from the letter Ks and smiled at my mom.

“It’s good. Television people are television people.”

“Too bad we can’t see the program at home. It’s no fun bragging about your big shot producer daughter with nothing to show for it.”

I could practically taste the sourness in her voice. She loved to brag about me and Dayna to her circle of friends. The ladies she chose to spend her time with all had doctors, lawyers and business magnates as offspring. We were the lone creative types. With Dayna writing for a food magazine in London, my mother never failed to remind me how much easier it was to show the women back home her articles, than explain my broadcasts.

“It’s regular, local news. No more intriguing than what you watch in Darien. Google the station. We stream the news live every night.”

Her aquamarine eyes narrowed at the mention of watching something online. She looked just like an older version of my sister when she did that.

“I know you don’t like watching TV online, but it’s all the rage. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll put something together and send it to you guys. I’m sure Dad would like to see it too.”

“Your father would love it,” she beamed. “How have you been doing since breaking up with Nathan?”

It only took her four days to ask, I thought, trying to smooth out my annoyance at the mere mention of his name. “Fine.”

“Lia, you’re trembling,” she said softly. “It’s okay to still be upset.”

I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails left little half moons in my palms. Anger boiled through my veins.

“I’m not upset,” I glowered, snatching another name card. “He’s not someone I want to talk about at the wedding, if you don’t mind.”

Thankfully, my dad chose that exact moment to interrupt our conversation. “Hey, kiddo,” he smiled at me. “Mind if I steal your mom for a bit?”

Salvation. He always knew when to diffuse a tense situation between me and my mother. He draped an arm around her shoulder and led her toward the hall. I finished with the cards and spent the rest of the night curled up in my castle hotel room.

* * *

A frigid wind swept through the courtyard on Friday afternoon. It rustled the trees and sent leaves swirling. We crowded close together by a fountain, dresses fluttering about and well-sprayed hair-dos fighting against the breeze. Dayna's sparkling cathedral veil slapped me in the face just as the photographer snapped a picture.

"Stay still ladies. Don't move….and smile," he directed.

I huddled in close to my sister, trying valiantly to keep a happy, relaxed smile plastered on my frozen face. Why she had to pick Scotland in April to get married mystified me. Castle staff members brought out a few platters of food for us to snack on, but it was difficult shoving bacon wrapped scallops in one's mouth while attempting a pretty smile at the same time.

The photographer dismissed the bridesmaids and groomsmen, but kept Dayna and her new husband, Andrew, for some couples shots. I trotted over to a plate lined with delicate rolls of raspberry and brie wrapped in filo pastry.

"Aren't those tasty?" my mother asked as she popped one in her mouth as well.

I managed a semi-enthusiastic nod while reaching for another roll.

"Your father and I can't wait to sit down and enjoy dinner. I had no idea being mother-of-the-bride was so exhausting!"

I grinned and watched the photographer finish up with the newlyweds. Dayna looked stunning in her ivory gown and Andrew was handsome in his tuxedo. Dayna squealed in delight, or shock, as Andrew scooped her off her feet. Her veil caught the breeze that was still blowing through the courtyard and soared over their heads, the crystals sparkling in the sunlight.

"Let's get this party started," Andrew Riley bellowed, carrying the new Mrs. Riley toward the reception hall.

Soft light glittered through the crystal chandeliers in the castle's main reception hall. The space was warm and inviting, with half a dozen decorated tables spread throughout. Dayna and Andrew had purposely kept the wedding numbers low, based on the distance guests would have to travel. Only immediate family and a handful of their closest friends were there, making the affair cozy and intimate.

Smiling guests filled the room. A low hum of conversation mixed with soft music. Some of Andrew's friends gathered around their newly betrothed mate, singing and chanting some soccer songs but changing the words for the occasion.

"These Brits and their soccer,” Stephanie remarked, resting her arm on my shoulder.

“Yeah. Dayna told me he drags her to at least one game a month. I told her she should bring a magazine and read.”

We laughed as Andrew sang along with his friends.

"By the way,” Stephanie grinned. "You are a vision in sage, my friend.”

The sage chiffon flowed effortlessly around my legs as I swished the gown back and forth. “The color doesn't look as dreadful on as I thought it would. Thank goodness."

After the main courses were enjoyed and dessert served, the DJ let loose and we partied the night away. My mom and dad danced to song after song. Stephanie managed to pair off with one of Andrew's friends. They sat huddled at a table by one of the massive picture windows. Her peals of laughter floated over the music.

Before the reception ended, all of us made our way to the back terrace for one final surprise for the bride and groom. Once everyone gathered outside, the night sky lit up with a dazzling display of fireworks. Glasses of champagne were raised and the bride and groom were toasted, as brilliant colors burst across the sky, illuminating the castle.