Nicol dropped his gaze to his desk, busying himself with rolling up the plan he’d been poring over. “Hugh won’t get a scolding,” he said. “However, I can see he needs a lesson in how to deal with forceful characters.”
Lindsay laughed at that, making Nicol glance at him suspiciously, as though he thought Lindsay might be laughing at him.
“Aren’t you going to invite me to sit?” Lindsay asked. “I’m beginning to think you don’t like me, Mr. Nicol.”
Interestingly, Nicol coloured at that, a faint pinkness washing over his cheekbones. It made Lindsay want to see that same pinkness washing up over his chest and throat —preferably in response to Lindsay touching his body. And God, that thought was making him hard. He shifted, subtly adjusting himself, and did not miss Nicol’s gaze jerking down to his crotch then quickly back up again.
“Fine,” Nicol said stiffly, gesturing at a chair that stood against the wall. “Have a seat, but I’d be obliged if you’d get to the purpose of this call. I don’t have all day.”
Lindsay fetched the chair, setting it down on the opposite side of Nicol’s desk before gracefully lowering himself into it and crossing his legs slowly, enjoying Nicol’s furtive glance at his shapely calves.
“I hear,” he began, “that your services are much in demand.”
Nicol eyed him suspiciously. “As I told you at Mr. Cruikshank’s, my partners and I are indeed fortunate to be very busy at this time.”
“From what I can gather,” Lindsay said smoothly, “yourservices in particular are in demand.”
He’d wondered if Nicol would be flattered by his interest, by Lindsay having taken the trouble to seek out information about him before coming here; but if anything, Nicol appeared irritated.
“My partners are equally well-qualified,” he replied tightly. “I can assure you that all of our clients receive the very best service.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Lindsay murmured—and he didn’t, given that it sounded as though Nicol did most of the work. In making enquiries, Wynne had learned, from one of Nicol’s clerks, that the two senior partners, Abernethy and Gibb, did little these days. The general view, it seemed, was that they’d made a canny move when they’d taken on the talented and hardworking Drew Nicol as a partner.
Leaning back in his chair, Lindsay stretched his legs out before him, enjoying the way Nicol’s gaze once again flickered helplessly towards this display, then quickly away.
“So,” Lindsay continued, “If we assume for a moment that I want a house in the New Town designed by you, tell me: how long will I have to wait?”
Nicol considered that, his eyes moving over Lindsay’s face as though he was trying to discern how serious Lindsay was. He was silent for so long, Lindsay thought he wasn’t going to answer, but at last, he said, “Two to three years, perhaps longer, depending on how selective you are about the particular plot and design.”
Did he think that would put Lindsay off? Lindsay almost laughed. Two to three years—hell, a decade—was the merest blink of an eye to Lindsay and his kind. Not to mention that property was always an attractive investment. Income-bearing, easily explained... and not going anywhere.
“Obviously, I should like it as soon as possible,” he said, “But if I must wait, so be it.”
Nicol’s gaze narrowed slightly. “If you’re serious about this, you’re welcome to look at the plots we have available. If one takes your fancy, we can take a deposit on it. If not, we will let you know when additional plots come up.”
“Can I see them today?” Lindsay asked, pleased by the prospect of prolonging their meeting.
Nicol shrugged. “Yes. Now, if you like.”
Lindsay smiled. “Now would be perfect.”
“Very well. I’ll call for Hugh. He can take you there directly.”
Hugh?
When Nicol reached for the bell on the corner of his desk, Lindsay shot out his hand, seizing the man’s wrist before he reached it. Nicol’s gaze snapped up, his surprise at the unexpected contact evident.
“I don’t want your clerk to show me,” Lindsay said. “I wantyou, Mr. Nicol.”
Nicol’s expression, at first stunned, became annoyed. He gave off a tangled knot of scents that was difficult to read, but Lindsay didn’t drop his gaze. This moment felt critical somehow, something important hanging in the balance between them.
After a moment, Nicol dropped his gaze to Lindsay’s hand on his wrist and tugged, forcing Lindsay to release him.
As Lindsay lifted his hand from Nicol’s, he noticed for the first time, the band of gold on Nicol’s third finger.
The sight made his heart stutter in his chest.
“You’re married,” he observed, staring at the slim gold band. He sounded perfectly calm, but he was aware it was an odd comment to make in the midst of an already odd conversation.
