Ian (Las Vegas Sidewinders Book 15), page 12
The moment she’d approached the front gate, her breath had caught in her throat. It was so majestic, something she appreciated as an American because there was nothing like this in the U.S. The magnificent structure was built on the inactive volcano of Castle Rock and had been populated for more than three thousand years. Monarchs had ruled from within its walls for centuries before she’d even been born and the enormity of it all momentarily brought history to life.
Staring up at delightful towers and gables, it was hard not to imagine herself in a full Victorian skirt, rushing through the gate to get home, as if she would have lived in a castle herself. Smiling to herself, she walked inside, taking her time to enjoy every second of this journey into the past.
There was so much to see, she wasn’t sure how many visits would be enough, but she was nothing if not efficient and took her time doing each section of the castle and grounds. As she stared out at the sumptuous views and vibrant green hillsides, she was once again swept away in a fantasy. What had life been like then? Harder than hers, without a doubt, but also exciting and full of a charm that seemed to be missing in the modern world. She sighed a little, wishing she had someone to share this with.
Capturing an image of one of the cannons, she’d just paused to adjust the lens of her camera when arms slid around her from behind.
“Boo.”
“Ian!” Her hand flew to her chest. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry.” He leaned forward and kissed the side of her face. “Surprise.”
“Jesus.” She turned to face him. “How did you know where to find me?”
“You said if the weather was good you were coming here, and our family has season passes, so I thought I’d give it a shot.”
She smiled, both pleased and surprised. “You could have just called.”
“I was in a bad mood last night and sort of took it out on you, so I figured I’d make it up to you in person.” He gave her a wry smile. “I’ll carry your things while you take your pictures, if you like.”
“That’s not necessary, but since this thing is heavy, sure.” She promptly handed him her backpack, though she kept her camera around her neck, and started to walk, giving him a teasing smirk. “Hope you can keep up.”
She tended to work alone, because having friends with her always wound up being a distraction but that wasn’t the case with Ian. He was the perfect assistant, following her amiably, carrying everything, and not trying to make much small talk. He probably still had a lot on his mind, but now that he was here, she felt better and he seemed happy to just be together. Which was nice because it had been a long time since she’d been involved with a guy who didn’t treat her job like a fun hobby. For some reason, being a photojournalist wasn’t respected quite as much as being a regular journalist, as if taking pictures wasn’t a big deal. Ian didn’t behave that way, giving her yet another reason to be crazy about him.
“How much longer do you think you want to go?” he asked her around four o’clock. “I’m happy to carry your things all day, but I’m starving.”
“I’m hungry too,” she admitted. “I skipped lunch.”
“Shall we get a snack and go for another hour?”
“I’ll probably be here until it closes,” she said, “but I could use a snack.”
“Let’s go down to the café and grab something quick and then you can get back to work. I love watching you with your camera.”
“You do?” She looked at him in surprise.
“It’s so obvious you love what you do… The way you hold the camera, the time you take to find the perfect shots, the look on your face when you see something that stimulates your creativity. It’s lovely.”
She flushed, smiling at him as she bit her lower lip. “No one’s ever said anything like that to me before. Most people, especially the men I’ve dated, act like this is some part-time job instead of how I make my living.”
“I could never think that way,” he said solemnly. “Believe me, I know all about having a career that other people don’t believe is respectable.”
“Your talk with your grandfather didn’t go well, did it?” she asked, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it later or should I let it go?”
“Later, we’ll definitely talk, but for now, I need to eat.”
“Deal.”
By six o’clock, when the castle closed, they were both a little sunburnt and tired, but in a good way. Ian put her backpack on and they held hands as they walked down the hill back toward the center of the city.
“Shall we get dinner?” he asked her.
“I’m hungry again, so yes.”
“Well, I’m yours for the night, if you want me.”
“Of course I want you.” She moved a little closer to him. “You’re all I’ve thought about since we met.”
“Me too,” he whispered.
“Can we go somewhere that has really good fish and chips? I haven’t had any since I’ve been here. And someone said I need to try sticky toffee pudding. I don’t know what it is, but anything with toffee sounds yummy.”
His eyes rounded. “That is seriously the only thing I miss when I’m in the U.S. Sticky toffee pudding is…everything.”
“Everything? Like, better than sex, everything?” she teased.
“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves… There is essentially nothing better than good sex. But sticky toffee pudding comes close.”
“All righty then. Let’s find some fish and chips and this pudding stuff.”
“It’s called pudding, but it’s more of a cake… Well, you’ll see. And I have the perfect place.”
The look on Everly’s face when she got her first taste of sticky toffee pudding was pure ecstasy and Ian couldn’t help his own grin. Dessert wasn’t a big deal to him, but watching her enjoy something native to his country so much made him want to taste it too. He opened his mouth and grinned as she immediately put a spoonful in. Their eyes met as they chewed, and she wiped her mouth with a wicked grin.
“Did we just have culinary orgasms?”
“Well, you certainly did,” he chuckled. “I’m just sporting a massive dessert woody.”
“One piece of sweet imagery at a time,” she laughed. She picked up another spoonful of the warm, spongy cake, swirled it in the toffee syrup and caught a touch of vanilla ice cream before popping it in her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed and she licked some toffee off her lips before she started to chew.
His dick went from at rest to full attention just watching her eat, and a few seconds ago he’d been kidding about the woody. Now it was real and it had nothing to do with sticky toffee pudding. Although licking ice cream off her breasts sounded like fun. How had almost two days gone by since he’d made love to her? He needed to remedy that immediately. In the meantime, he was going to taste what she was tasting.
He leaned over and covered her mouth with his, all but licking the toffee from her tongue as they made out. Normally, he wasn’t the type of guy who liked such public displays of affection, but with Everly, it was all about the moment. He didn’t care if anyone saw them, recognized him, or anything else. She was the type of woman he could, and would, get lost in. Had it really only been five days since they’d met?
“I think you’re hungry for more than dessert,” she whispered against his mouth.
“Aye.” His voice was a little heavy as he looked into her eyes.
“God, I love when you talk Scottish to me.”
“Eat your pudding,” he said, lifting the spoon and putting another bite in her mouth.
“You too,” she said, licking her lips and proffering the spoon.
“Mm-kay.” He did as she asked.
They finished their dessert but there was far more than food on their minds. Her eyes burned with desire and he was sure his own reflected the same. Now he just had to find a way to get his cock to cooperate so he could walk out of the restaurant without embarrassing himself. Everly wasn’t helping that situation, since she now had a hand on his crotch, rubbing it along his erection with firm but gentle strokes.
“Are ye tryin’ to kill me?” he muttered under his breath.
“Uh-huh.” She licked her lips. “But I’ll make it up to you once we get back to my room.”
“Yeah, you will.” He motioned for the check and slowly but firmly moved her hand off of his crotch.
“Looks like you’re going to have to untuck your shirt.” She laughed.
“Bloody hell.” He left money on the table, untucked his shirt and made her walk in front of him as they strode out onto the street.
“You ready to call it a night?” he asked her.
“I’m ready to go back to the room,” she said. “I don’t know about calling it a night, though.”
He pulled out his phone and called for an Uber.
20
Ian was up early on Monday morning. Everly was still fast asleep, her blond hair a tangled halo around her pretty face as she nestled deeper into the pillow. He hated to leave her but he had a meeting to get to and she was going to meet up with Isla after breakfast. He was taking her rental car and then Isla would bring it back when she came to meet her for their day together.
He still needed to shower and change before meeting with his grandfather, and for the first time in more than twenty-four hours, he allowed himself to think about what he was going to say and do. His pride for his heritage ran deep, but so did his love for hockey. It made no sense that he had to give up one for the other, yet he realized that he would. He didn’t care about becoming the Duke of Halloway. It sounded boring as fuck, and though he tried not to dwell on it, he was sure the pressure of it all was what killed his father. More the job than the title since he wouldn’t have become duke until his father passed, but Ian’s father had told him more than once to follow his heart.
Ian wanted to talk to his mother about all of this, but she’d been strangely quiet about it and he’d been distracted by his buddies and Everly. Maybe his mum was up now, so he shot her a quick text as he got to the house and went upstairs to shower. By the time he had dressed and headed down to find something to eat, his mother was seated at the table in a silk robe, her face devoid of makeup and her hair in a simple ponytail. He rarely saw her like this and paused to smile, thinking she looked younger.
“Morning, Mum.” He poured himself a cup of coffee as he sat beside her. “Did you get up for me?”
“I did.” She smiled at him. “Your text sounded like you needed to talk.”
“I do.” He leaned back in his chair and met her curious gaze. “Tell me about Dad.”
“What do you want to know?” She looked surprised. “The two of you were close and we had no major secrets.”
“No, but…” He struggled with articulating what he wanted to know. “Did he hate his work at the firm?”
She sighed and then looked away, taking her time before responding. “He didn’t hate it, but he didn’t love it.”
“Do you think it’s part of why he had a heart attack?”
“He had a heart attack because he sat on his arse all day, sixty hours a week, ate too much, drank too much, and smoked for nearly forty years. That’s why he had a heart attack. Would he have lived had he been an artist or a teacher? Who knows, but at least I would’ve been able to watch him more, help him cut back the drinking, the smoking, the lot of it. But when it’s all said and done, we can’t make a direct correlation on anything. You know that.”
“I guess I do.”
“Are ye lookin’ for someone to blame? Because it’s not your grandfather. He loved his son more than anything in the world.”
“I know that too.” Ian sighed. “I just don’t understand why he wants me to be miserable when he had to know Dad was.”
“He’s old-fashioned, from a different generation. He wants you to feel what he feels, and while he knows intellectually that’s not possible, emotionally he still hopes it is.”
“Feel what? Obligation?”
“Passion for the things he’s passionate about… Your family legacy, that sort of thing.”
“And what happens if I simply don’t want to? If I continue to play hockey as long as they’ll have me?”
“I don’t know.” She cocked her head. “Is that what you really want?”
“I’ve spent the last couple of summers clerking at The Ember Group in either Boston or London and it’s hell. They’re uppity and cross all the time. The work itself is mind-numbingly boring. And the pay is shit for the time being. I make millions. Why would I give up a job I love, where I make seven figures, to do something I dislike making a pittance?”
“You shouldn’t.” Her eyes met his. “I’ll always have your back, son. And your granddad will come around as well. Just be calm and present him with the facts. He doesn’t care about emotion or flights of fancy. Give him the numbers—exactly how much money you’ll lose, exactly how long you can realistically continue to play. Things like that.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you.” He picked up his coffee cup. “I need my computer to make some notes and figure out some numbers.” He leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I love you, Mum.”
“I love you too—take a scone!” she called after him.
He paused long enough to wrap one in a napkin and then took the stairs two at a time back up to his room, the coffee in his cup spilling over the edges as he ran.
Ian was calm when nine o’clock rolled around. He strolled downstairs and made his way to his grandfather’s home office. The door was open and he was surprised to see his four brothers there, but no sign of Isla. Though he hadn’t been expecting his siblings to be here, it was odd that Isla had been left out. Which could only mean this was about the passing of the title of Duke. To one of his brothers, no doubt. He wanted to sigh in frustration, but he wouldn’t give anyone that satisfaction. His brothers were dressed casually, in either shorts or jeans, and polo shirts, but Ian was wearing dress pants, a button-down shirt and dress shoes. He’d learned a lot from his grandfather over the years; one of those things was about how to dress for a meeting. It might not mean anything behind closed doors at home, but it made a statement, which was what he intended.
“Good morning.” He looked around. “Are we missing someone?”
“Isla said she had other plans and wasn’t willing to break them.” The duke met Ian’s eyes. “Seems the two eldest Campbell children share a stubborn streak.”
“It’s not like she’s able to get your title,” Lachlan said with a shrug. “Why would she care?”
“Sometimes you do what’s right simply because it’s right.” Ian eyed the four younger Campbell boys. “Like dressing properly for a meeting.”
Score one for me, Ian thought, pouring himself another cup of coffee. This would be his fourth and he hadn’t eaten anything yet, but there was a plate with biscuits and other pastries on the sideboard, so he helped himself. Not very healthy, but he didn’t want to float away on a caffeine-fueled high either.
“So what’s this about, Granddad?” Finn had the least at stake here since he was still attending university and too far down the line to worry about titles.
“It’s about the future of the Campbell family.” The elder Ian looked around the room. “You are the future. The five of you.”
“And Isla is what?” Ian asked dryly. “Our maid? Secretary?”
His grandfather scowled. “Must you be quarrelsome?”
“She should be here. She should be part of any conversations about anything to do with the Campbell name because she carries it as well.” Ian wasn’t going to back down, though he was positive his sister preferred to be where she was.
“I told her about the meeting, and she chose not to come. I’m not sure what you want beyond that, Ian.”
“Can we just get on with it?” Mac drawled, leaning back in his chair. “This doesn’t really impact me or Finn either, so why are we here?”
“Because we’re a family, dammit!” The duke stood up and leaned forward, putting his hands on the desk. “The lot of you go through life without a care. Do any of you care about anything beyond yourselves?”
Ian leaned against the wall, popping a bite of blueberry muffin in his mouth. This part of the conversation wasn’t directed at him. He worked harder than all four of his brothers put together, between college, hockey and getting his law degree. Nope, he wasn’t the lazy one of the bunch, though he wasn’t sure where his grandfather was going with this.
“I thought this was about Ian not living up to his end of your bargain?” Liam asked, scowling.
“Why would my deal with Ian be any of your business?” his grandfather countered. “This is about the four of you, not Ian.”
“You mean I’m the one that got out of bed for nothing?” Ian asked, feigning surprise.
“Cheeky bastards, the lot of you.” The duke shook his head and sat down. “You’re here because we have decisions to make and we’re going to make them as a family.”
“All of us but Ian and Isla want to work in the family business,” Lachlan said, shrugging. “This isn’t a secret.”
“It was a bit of a secret to me,” the duke responded quietly.
Everyone grew silent and Ian realized he was on the spot. That was okay, though, because he was prepared. “That’s on me,” he said, putting down his coffee and plate and standing up straighter. “And I apologize. It’s not that I lied or didn’t plan to live up to my responsibilities, but the older I get, the more I realize I’m cut from a different cloth. I’m more like Mum—” That was a lie; he was just like his father, but his grandfather probably didn’t want to hear that. “I’m not cut out for the world of financial and contract law, though there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my family in a pinch. I don’t want to let anyone down, and if Granddad thinks Liam should hold the title of Duke, that’s okay with me.”
