Mad About Plaid (The MacLaren Brothers Series 1)

Chapter 4

Lucy hurried to her room, hoping her interaction with Ian MacLaren would be extremely limited. She wasn't at all confident she could handle herself around the hunky Innkeeper. Before she knew it, she'd be throwing herself at him for the sexy accent alone. Or any number of reasons, really. Or no reason at all.

He was one of those men who didn't need a reason.

She leaned against her door. Get a hold of yourself, Walker.

With a groan, she grabbed the tartan afghan from the back of the chair, and wrapped it around her shoulders. She paced, biting her lip. For a moment, for just a brief blinding moment, Lucy thought she saw interest in his gaze, but then he couldn't seem to get out of the library fast enough.

Ian MacLaren needed a good review and nothing more. He wasn't interested in her that way. And why should he be?

Why should it even matter?

She was Mrs. Brooks, after all

The knock at the door made her jump. Her fingers clenched tighter around the afghan, knowing it was him and angry at the somersaults going on in her belly. She answered, and stood back as Ian entered with her bags.

"Now that you're up and about," he said, "I'd like to move you to one of our guest suites."

"Oh. No need. This room is fine." Lucy wanted to wince as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She was pretty sure Riley would have preferred the guest suite. She could tell by the way the muscle ticked in his jaw that he wasn't happy with her reply and, oddly, it gave her a nice shot of satisfaction. Revenge for him making her all hormonal.

"The east wing isn't really ready for guests right now, and-"

A man poked his head into the room. "Here's the rest of yer things, ma'am." He took a tentative step inside, glancing speculatively from her to Ian, as he set her purse, backpack, and the ridiculous cap on the dresser. "Ye had these when Ian brought ye in. Fran cleaned the sack there."

"You're Hamish, right?"

"Aye."

"I appreciate you getting the car and my things."

"No trouble. Glad ta help. I'm just sorry for yer trouble." He eyed her bruise and then winked at her. "If ye dinnae mind me saying, yer still a bonny sight."

Pleasure blossomed inside her. She was such a sucker for a nice compliment. "Really?"

"Oh, aye. As bonny as a spring day."

Her grin deepened, and she saw Ian's eyes roll at the exchange. She had to bite her lip to keep from making a face at him.

"It's long past supper," Ian interrupted her and Hamish's moment. "But if you'd like anything before bed, I'll be happy to bring something up..."

"I'm fine. What about the room?"

There was that tick again. Lucy wondered why it brought her so much satisfaction. Maybe because he was so aloof and proper that riling him in some small way was like a victory for girls everywhere.

He answered slowly and deliberately. "By all means, the room is yours. We want your stay to be as comfortable as possible. I look forward to seeing to your needs personally."

Their eyes locked.

Men like him don't make double entendres to girls like you, her inner voice reasoned. It was she. Yes, she, the weak and obviously hard-up impersonator, who took every word out of his mouth and turned it into something carnal.

Okay, so maybe Gram and Kate and even Riley were right. Maybe she did need a man.

"I expect Mrs. Brooks would like to unpack." Hamish broke the silence.