“So, you’re looking to do more than just maximize your revenues?” Jo said.
“I’d never want to profitoffof a place in some zero-sum game where me winning means that everyone else loses. That’s no way to run a business, or to live a life.” Locke looked pensive for a beat. “You know, I inherited this company from my father,” he said. “And I’ve been at this long enough to know I want to leave behind a legacy worth remembering. I want to ensure that I take good care of the properties we develop, so they can be passed on to my children one day.” He glanced at me, his look weighted. “Our children.”
I smiled at that. Maybe there was more to Lachlan Fraser than just the cutthroat real estate developer, prepared to do anything—including lock down a fake fiancée—to make a deal.
But then again, maybe this flutter I was feeling was nothing more than morning sickness. Not a sign at all.
Jo nudged me with her elbow. “I think you’ve got a good one this time, lass. You were smart to have picked someone more mature this time around.” The ache of old embarrassment filled my chest, and I tried to beat the memory of Declan away. Bad choice. Lesson learned. I didn’t need Jo to keep reminding me of how he’d tried to use me to bankroll him into a new business venture. “You’ve clearly got someone here who appreciates the things that matter in life the way foolish young men never do. Make sure you hold onto him.”
“Don’t worry, I plan to,” I said, clinging to Locke’s arm, holding onto my smile even as I felt like a fraud.
The door swung open, and Jo moved on to interrogate the new arrival. Locke and I both sagged as if winded.
“Bloody hell,” he said. “Why was that like going to battle? We’re preparing so much better before we meet your father.”
I winced at the thought. The task felt more daunting now than ever.
He checked his watch. “I’ve gotta run and catch up on some work calls. Are you good here?”
I nodded. “I’ll see you later.”
“Sounds good.” He leaned over and pecked me on the forehead. Even though I knew it was all for show, I couldn’t help the way my body flushed right down to my toes. He headed off, and I turned to the counter, a little dizzy.
When I glanced up, Cat was beaming at me like a madwoman.
“What?” I groaned.
“Come on, you must have noticed the fireworks going off in here.”
“That’s calledacting.”
“I think the fact that you two snipe at each other like an old married couple is more than acting. He also looks at you a certain way. All growly and protective.” She kissed her fingers. “The vibes aremwah!”
“Whatever,” I said, trying to deny what she was saying. But it was hard to pretend the attraction wasn’t there—at least on my part. I’d thought he was gorgeous from the first moment he’d stepped out of his car on that narrow country road.
But things were different now. We were having a baby and trying to pull together this elaborate scheme to get my father to sell him the land. There was no room for pesky little things like attraction.
Besides, I knew what happened when I led with my heart instead of my head. I’d been in that mess before.
8
LOCKE
Three days after the cat café, we raced down the M8 motorway toward Edinburgh in my Bentley. “Why do you look so nervous?” I asked, glancing over at Isla from the driver’s seat.
“I’m not nervous,” Isla insisted.
“You’ve been wringing your hands together and picking at your trousers for the last half hour.”
Her hands stilled. She huffed at me and stuffed her fingers under her thighs. “I’m fine.”
“Good.” I checked my blind spot and changed lanes. “If anyone should be nervous about this lunch, it’s me.” It would be my first encounter with Dougal MacRae since he’d practically thrown me out of his office. The pressure was officially on.
Isla shot me a wry grin. “Yes, you should be nervous, Mr. Let’s-Show-Up-In-A-Helicopter. What the hell were you thinking?”
“It was simply an offer,” I said, groaning as she giggled at me. “I thought we could cut the travel time down by a couple of hours. That’s all.”
Isla clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “You were trying to be showy. Admit it.”
