The Millionaire Boss's Baby

He and Robbie had drifted apart many years ago—with Robbie preparing to take on the mantle of Laird after their father, with all that that entailed, and Keir leaving Glenteign just as soon as he could, to pursue his determination to go into business for himself and put his less than joyful childhood memories firmly behind him. Talking to his brother on a regular basis would only have reminded him of that dark period in his life, and Keir definitely didn’t want reminders. The fact that he was back at Glenteign now, after all these years, and had inherited the role of Laird of the estate himself when he’d never wanted anything remotely to do with it again, was a twist of fate he hadn’t foreseen. He was still learning to live with it…

‘He seems happy enough…settling in and immersing himself in the job that has to be done.’ The edges of her mouth lifting in a tentative smile, Georgia laid her hands one on top of the other in her lap, as if considering her words very carefully.

Sensing that his cutting remark had made her nervous, Keir told himself he should have been more guarded. Usually he was. After all, shielding his true feelings from others had become second nature to him since childhood.

‘It was very good of you to recommend him to your friends in the Highlands,’ Georgia continued. ‘He’s grown to love Scotland, and I know he would have found it a wrench to leave. Also, I don’t think I thanked you for offering me this job of filling in for your own secretary. It’s good to get out of London for a while. How is she, by the way? Your secretary, I mean?’

‘Recovering slowly. It was a bad break, unfortunately, with some complications. She may have to have another operation to put it right.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘That’s why I needed someone who could step in and competently take over where Valerie left off. I’ve only been back at Glenteign for nine months myself, and what with organising the work on the gardens and getting them up to scratch again after the death of my brother…Well, there’s a lot of work involved in running an estate like this and it doesn’t get done by itself. Come and sit down, Moira…Is Lucy bringing the soup?’

‘She’ll be along directly.’

Georgia felt relief that the other woman had reappeared. Even though she’d been shocked and sympathetic to hear that Keir had so recently lost his brother, and she longed to learn more, she was also wary of saying the wrong thing again. Hunger was also gnawing at her. Fast food at a motorway service station was no substitute for good home-cooked food, and that was a fact! She was honestly looking forward to her meal.

Sitting opposite Georgia at the beautifully laid table, Moira let her friendly brown eyes focus kindly on her.

‘I just wanted to tell you, lassie, that Hamish has had the food you left for him, and is now curled up by the range in the kitchen. He was looking quite content when I left him, so there’s no need for you to worry. I’m sure he’s going to settle in just fine!’

‘Thank you. It was very good of you to see to him like that. I’m sure he’s loving every bit of all the extra attention he’s been receiving!’

‘He’s a wee lamb, that’s what he is! It’s lovely for us to have a dog about the place again…isn’t it, Chief Strachan?’

‘If you say so…’ Refusing to be drawn, Keir glanced impatiently at the doorway just as the soup arrived, carried on a large solid silver tray by a very pretty auburn-haired girl who couldn’t have been much older than seventeen.

When she would have served Keir first at the head of the table—as no doubt she usually did—surprisingly he directed her down to Georgia instead.

A brief smile touched the corners of a mouth that seemed somehow reluctant to utilise that gesture too often, and his gaze was wry. ‘No doubt you’re only too ready for your meal after your long drive, Georgia, and we won’t keep you waiting any longer to fulfil your great need!’

Although pleased by his apparent thoughtfulness, Georgia was slightly embarrassed too. Perhaps he’d seen her relieved glance at the bowls of steaming soup on the tray Lucy carried and secretly thought it unseemly somehow that a woman should so unwittingly display her hunger? She was inhabiting a whole new world of manners and formality that she wasn’t used to, and she would probably have to learn to be a little less impulsive and less apt to reveal her feelings.

‘Well, it smells absolutely delicious! Carrot and coriander, if I’m not mistaken?’

‘That’s right lassie. So…do you like to cook yourself?’ Moira asked politely.

Daring a swift glance at Keir from beneath her curling chestnut lashes, Georgia picked up her spoon, waiting for both he and Moira to do the same before she started eating. ‘I’ve always tried to prepare fresh food for me and Noah when he’s at home, and, yes, I do enjoy a bit of cooking…But it’s not always possible when we’re both busy working and invariably get in quite late. I usually try and do something nice at the weekends, though…like a roast on a Sunday, with a home cooked pudding to follow. Apple crumble is Noah’s favourite.’

‘There’s not many young women of your age who know a lot about cooking in my experience,’ Keir commented thoughtfully. ‘Apart from your brother, do you often cook for other people?’

In the flickering candlelight, his blue eyes glowed like the glint of fireflies, and for a moment Georgia felt as if they were the only two people in the room. ‘No, not really. Like I said…’ Her cheeks throbbed and burned beneath his unflinching cynosure. ‘I’m usually busy working…both outside and in the home.’

‘Are you telling me that you don’t have a social life?’

Where was this leading? Georgia wondered, a sense of panic flowing through her bloodstream. All she wanted to do was enjoy her soup and assuage her hunger—not answer too awkward questions that made her feel vaguely as if she was being interrogated.

‘I see my friends, and we do the usual things—like going to the cinema or eating out…So, yes—I do have a social life.’

The fact that she hadn’t done any of the above for quite some time now, because she’d been too busy working hard, worrying about finances and fretting about Noah’s welfare, was Georgia’s private business and not the kind of thing she would remotely want to discuss with people she’d just met…however curious.

Keir saw the slightly agitated rise and fall of her chest in the unremarkable pink dress and didn’t know why he was suddenly fishing for details about her private life. He was only aware of a disturbing tension deep inside him whenever his glance happened to settle on her beautiful face, which it seemed to be doing at a rather compelling rate. He should have quizzed Noah more about his sister. He should have somehow learned that she had the ability to mesmerise with her eyes, her smile, her voice…he should have learned that she blushed easily when discomfited or embarrassed, and that her smooth, silky skin glowed like satin in the flickering candlelight…If Keir had known these things before he’d gone ahead and hired her—then he might never have agreed to her coming to Glenteign at all. Georgia Cameron was too much of a disturbing distraction. Especially when there was so much that had to be done.

As much as he didn’t want to be back in the family home, now that Robbie was gone he had a responsibility to carry on in his stead. Besides that, there was also the livelihood of the staff to think of, as well as the local people in the surrounding villages who had lived and worked on this land since time immemorial and had certain expectations of their Laird.

Glenteign had been in Keir’s family for generations, and now there was no one left but him—and a distant ailing uncle in Cape Town, who was hardly interested or even desirous of coming back to Scotland after spending the majority of his life tending vineyards in South Africa. Keir had to be focused and committed to the task in hand if he was going to win the respect of people who looked up to him, and he needed to inspire the help and support that was necessary to help him do that. No…it wouldn’t help his case one bit to become too friendly with the bewitching Ms Cameron…

‘Let’s eat, shall we? Or the soup will get cold.’

Directing a final rueful glance Georgia’s way, Keir deliberately diverted his attention to his meal…

Rising early the next morning, Georgia pushed the memory of last night’s slightly strained atmosphere at dinner determinedly out of her head. Today was a new day, she told herself, and she and her new boss needed time to get to know each other’s ways before they both relaxed their guards a little around each other and felt more comfortable.

Although she didn’t think it was likely that someone with the responsibility of such a large country estate and the weight all that must place on his shoulders would ever really relax their guard around anyone.

Nevertheless, Georgia was even more determined this morning to make things work. She’d been given a great opportunity to get out of London for a while and live in the countryside, which had always been a longed-for dream, as well as earning the best salary she’d made in ages, and she wasn’t going to waste even a second filling her head with self-doubt about whether she’d done the right thing or not.

Allowing her lips to curve with pleasure at the thought of being able to explore her new surroundings at her leisure on her day off, she hurriedly washed and dressed. Throwing on jeans, trainers and an old sweatshirt of Noah’s that she had commandeered a long time ago, she headed off to the kitchen to collect Hamish for his walk.

The rest of the house was as silent as a church as she carefully undid the sturdy locks on the front door and stepped outside. It was a rare morning, as her dad would have said, and a fine mist clung like a draped silken cobweb over the mountain peaks that edged above the tall firs in the distance. For a disturbing moment Georgia knew a pang of longing so great that she stood stock still, with Hamish gazing expectantly up at her, her hazel eyes awash with tears.

‘You’d love it here, Dad,’ she whispered softly beneath her breath. ‘The air is so sweet you can almost taste it.’ Resolutely scrubbing away the moisture on her cheeks, she raised her chin and walked from the great house with a spring in her step. As she feasted her hungry gaze on a landscape that would stir emotion in even the stoniest of hearts, she thought how she could easily live here and never set foot in another city or town again.

Overjoyed at being outdoors, and released off his lead, Hamish bounded across the springy emerald grass and headed off towards the magnificent sentinel of trees that stood guard in front of the mountains up ahead. And as Georgia followed behind him, at a more leisurely rate, the tensions she’d experienced on her first evening at Glenteign faded away…

Back in the house an hour later, she declined the cooked breakfast that apparently Keir was enjoying in the smaller dining room, to share a pot of tea and a plate of hot buttered toast and marmalade with Moira Guthrie, in the expansive country kitchen.

As the two women sat companionably together at the family-sized pine table, the owner of Glenteign walked in.

‘Georgia…I’d like a word, if I may?’

She started to rise to her feet, caught off guard by his sudden appearance and almost too aware of the innate sense of authority he brought into the room with his presence. With his lean, yet muscular build, everything he wore looked tailor-made for him…not to mention expensive. Even away from this amazing house and its vast grounds there would be an air of exclusivity about Keir Strachan that would always make him stand out from the crowd.

Suddenly Georgia’s appetite disappeared, and she tucked a wayward chestnut curl behind her ear with less grace than she would have liked. ‘Yes, of course.’

‘When you’ve finished your breakfast will do. I’ll be in my study. Moira will show you where it is.’

He’d gone again before she’d even voiced a reply. Sitting back down in her chair, Georgia inadvertently released a sigh.

‘A word about the young Laird, my dear,’ Moira said, resting her elbows on the table. ‘He may come across as rather brusque at times, but he has a lot of responsibility on his shoulders. Not only is he Laird here, but he also has a business to think of. No matter what you might think he does have kindness in him, so don’t judge him too quickly—will you, lassie?’

Georgia was still dwelling on what the housekeeper had told her when she stood outside Keir’s study door a short while later. To her surprise he answered her knock almost straight away, and ushered her inside. Experiencing a deep jolt at the definitely masculine ambience of the imposing room she found herself in, Georgia couldn’t help feeling she was somehow intruding.

Keir turned his deep blue gaze towards her.

‘I trust you slept well? I know it’s not always the case the first few nights in a strange house, but I’m sure you’ll quickly get used to things.’

Surprisingly, Georgia had slept well. No doubt the long day’s drive to get to Glenteign and her trepidation about what things would be like when she got there had contributed to her near exhaustion when her head had finally hit the pillow.

‘Yes, I slept very well, thank you.’

‘And your room is to your liking?’

‘It’s lovely.’

‘Moira takes care of all that sort of thing…always has. She’s been housekeeper here since my father’s time, so if you need anything at all or want to know where anything is she’s the person to ask.’

Seeing the question in her clear hazel eyes and sure he hadn’t misread it, Keir held Georgia’s glance with a wry twist of his lips.

‘Unfortunately there’s no Lady Glenteign to help exert that essential feminine influence that makes a house a home. So apart from my bedroom and this study—a room that I view strictly as my own domain—you’ll no doubt see evidence of those important female touches everywhere else in the house courtesy of my housekeeper.’

Vaguely discomfited by the fact that he’d practically read her mind, Georgia moved her glance to the opened casement window opposite Keir’s desk and back again. ‘You mentioned last night at dinner that your brother had died? I just wanted to say how sorry I was to hear that. It must be devastating to lose someone so close in your family.’

‘We weren’t as close as we might have been, but, yes…it was quite awful to lose him.’

Seeing the sympathy on her concerned face, Keir felt strangely at odds admitting something so personal to a woman he’d only just met—like trying on a suit that didn’t fit—and was frankly surprised that he’d allowed himself to be so uncharacteristically candid. But sometimes the pain of losing Robbie and remembering the bleak reality of their childhood was so crushing that he thought he might go mad if he didn’t ever speak his feelings out loud. Yet he knew in reality that he couldn’t afford to show even a hint of such weakness to anybody. In his illustrious family it just wasn’t done.

‘Was he married? Did he have a family of his own?’ Georgia ventured.

‘The answer is no, to both of those questions. Thank you for your condolences, but I really do need to get on.’

‘Right.’

He saw her own guard come up, and immediately regretted it.

‘So? Presumably you wanted to talk to me about work?’

She crossed her arms over her chest in the too-large navy blue sweatshirt she wore, with its recognisable sports motif, and Keir realised that it had probably belonged to her brother at some point. The realisation immediately reminded him of how close the two of them must be, and he knew again a faint yet disturbing pang of envy.

Because Robbie was dead, and he would now never have the chance to be close to him even if he wished it, and because he’d been forced to return to Glenteign when he’d rather be a million miles away, Keir’s pain spilled over into sudden irritation.

‘I know it’s Sunday, but we’re going to have to make a start on things today. Everything’s got far too behind to be left until tomorrow, so the sooner we start to tackle the backlog, the better. If you had any plans to look round the gardens or drive into the village, then I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.’

‘I didn’t make any plans to go anywhere, and I’m perfectly aware that I came here to work. It’s no problem for me to work on a Sunday…I’ve done it many times.’

‘Good. Then might I suggest that you change into something a little more appropriate for work, and come back here in…’ he gave a perfunctory glance at his watch ‘…say twenty minutes?’

‘I’m only dressed like this because I took Hamish for a walk!’

‘The shirt is your brother’s, I take it?’

‘Is that a problem?’

For a moment Keir saw mutiny in her surprised glance, and as his gaze descended from those flashing hazel eyes of hers to her softly bare mouth an unexpected jolt of sexual heat zig-zagged hotly through his insides. The sensation staggered him, arising unbidden as it did—and in what could hardly be deemed a ‘provocative’ situation.

‘I don’t have time to stand here bandying words with you, Ms Cameron…Just go and do as I say, will you?’

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