Time for another sample! Curl up on these cold winter nights with a delightful romance.
The Blurb!
Unable to face Christmas with her family and the famous sister who stole her fiancé, Annie Powell books into a remote cottage in the Scottish Highlands.
Mac Hartman isn’t looking forward to the holidays either but when Annie turns up on his doorstep, he is instantly attracted to her.
As Annie exited the airport,
following signs for Edinburgh City By-Pass, each passing mile upset the
delicate equilibrium that she had fought so hard to regain over the past few
months.
Her parents had assured her that
she didn’t need to rent a car while here but she wanted- no, she needed the
freedom and independence that it gave her. This Christmas was going to be hard
enough to endure and she felt like she needed the means to escape sometimes.
It was nice to be back in
Edinburgh however, it was familiar and homey and packed with memories from her
childhood.
But the closer she got to the
Grange, the tighter her chest felt.
Everyone would be there and in the
case of her parents and her brother, that was fine, welcomed in fact. It was
her sister and him, that she didn’t want to see.
She had long ago accepted that her
sister, Amelia, was a fickle and selfish creature, but she had never expected
to find her with Simon, in Annie’s bed, no less.
Being cheated on was a betrayal
too far but to have the two people she was closest to both betray her…
she still didn’t know how to handle that. This would be the first time since
that fateful day that she would see them again, and the very thought drove an
icicle of pain into her heart, leaving her breathless. She pulled the car over
to the side of the road and sat quietly for a while, as she tried to compose
herself.
Whatever happened, she couldn’t
let them know how much they had hurt her, that would be like letting them win,
and she was damned if she’d let them know they had broken her spirit. She had
to do this.
Besides, her parents loved
Christmas, and it wasn’t their fault that her sister was a class A bitch. They
had assured her that Amelia and Simon would tone things down, be nice and be
‘understanding’ towards her.
Annie still didn’t know why her
feelings required understanding; it seemed pretty fucking obvious to her, that
a person who has been betrayed is liable to rip some heads off. What she didn’t
understand, never had in fact, was why Amelia was so easily forgiven for the
myriad of insensitive things she had done over the years.
Simon wasn’t the first boyfriend
she had stolen either, although she usually worked her magic on them early on
in a relationship, when their loss wasn’t devastating to Annie. She had come to
expect it, in fact, and when they were kicked to the kerb a week later, she
took a perverse kind of pleasure in it.
‘That will teach them not to be
so fickle next time, and not throw something good away, for the faint chance of
something better. Well, someone better,’ she would think.
Sometimes she even tried to put a
positive spin on it. ‘Better to know now that he‘s a cheating scumbag,
rather than after ten years of marriage.’
She couldn’t really blame men for
preferring Amelia to her; Amelia had been an actress since she was five, and
acting in big, blockbuster movies since she was 9. At 31 (Hollywood age, 24)
she was still drop dead gorgeous and had that Hollywood glamour and confidence
working for her, not to mention a stylist, a designer wardrobe, a massive bank
balance, botox and plastic surgery.
Amelia had dated her fair share of
A-listers too, like Ryan Gosling and Zac Effron who, Annie had to admit, was
way too young for Amelia and it was kind of icky. Not quite as icky as when she
dated Tom Cruise briefly, who was 20 years older, but icky nonetheless.
What man wouldn’t want to date
‘England’s Sweetheart, Amelia Powell’?
And she wasn’t even English.
Granted, they didn’t have much of a Scots accent but they were Scottish, born
and bred. When questioned, Amelia, in her usual patronising manner, just
explained that the concept of the United Kingdom having more than one country
was difficult for Americans to comprehend, so they just thought of it all as
England.
Sean Connery didn’t seem to have
any difficulty being called scots, she had thought, but she kept those thoughts
to herself; sometimes it was easier to just smile and nod.
When Annie’s episode had passed
and she was feeling calm again, she realised that she couldn’t do this.
Spending two weeks with her family, pretending not to remember that she was
supposed to get married in mid-January, was just too much to ask of anyone, she
decided. She pulled back into traffic and headed for Bruntsfield to find a
coffee shop, where she could sit for a while and decide what to do, while a slice
of horribly calorific cake soothed her battered ego.
She found a café, ordered at the
counter and as she claimed a table to wait for her order, she overheard the
people behind her, talking about spending Christmas in Aviemore. One lady and
her family were heading up there, to escape the yearly tug-of-war between her
family and her in-laws.
“So we’re opting out this year,”
the woman declared. “Besides, it’ll be nice for Bruce and I to spend a
Christmas by ourselves for once, before this one comes along. It might be our
only chance until she’s old enough for college.”
“It’s a girl then?” her friend
asked.
“Well no, it’s too early to tell
apparently, but I’m hoping. Bruce is going mental, I swear he’s more excited by
the baby than I am! Just the other day he…”
Annie had tuned them out, finding
their happiness painful to listen to, but Christmas in somewhere like Aviemore
sounded lovely. She had images of a remote cabin, a log fire and a snow covered
landscape. Lack of internet access might also help her write; she had a
deadline looming and hadn’t penned anything decent since ‘the discovery’ as she
termed it. Her deadline had already been pushed back twice, thanks to her
understanding editor, Kelly, arguing for her, but there would be no third
chance. If she didn’t produce a manuscript by February 5th, she
would lose her contract and face a financial penalty.
Her brother would understand; he
knew her better than anyone. Her parents would be hurt but this wasn’t about
Amelia and Simon, this was about work, and her February deadline. They would
understand that, right?
Of course, she had already tried
using that excuse for not coming and it hadn’t worked
‘Amelia will pay your fine!’
‘Mum, it isn’t just a fine,
I’ll lose my contract. I love working with Holder & Sons and if I leave,
I’ll lose Kelly!’
‘Kelly who?’
She only raved about Kelly every
third phone call, so perhaps it was telling that after two years working with
the same editor, her mother still didn’t know who she was.
‘My editor,’ she said with
a resigned sigh.
‘Family trumps an editor,
darling. Editors are ten a penny but family is precious.’
‘Kelly is one in a million. She
gets me and what I’m trying to say, and believe me, I’ve tried a lot of editors
over the years.’
Editor trouble was what made her
look around for a new publisher and join Holder & Sons in the first place,
and she was damn sure that she had told her mother all about her problems at
the time.
Regardless, work was her excuse
and her mother wouldn’t get a chance to object this time, Annie would be
sending a text, then turning her phone off.
She pulled her tablet computer out
of her bag and set about searching for an available holiday let.
***
Mac Hartman had endured a hard
year but he had finally succeeded, turning the family estate into a thriving
business, after estate taxes nearly bankrupted them. He had worked day and
night, finding a viable way to make the estate pay for itself, pouring his own
money into the facilities and finally, publicising it.
While still technically in debt to
him, last month the estate had turned its first profit and the forecast for
December was even better, with all the units rented for the last two weeks of
December. The final booking had only come in an hour ago in fact, and he was
immensely relieved.
January would be quiet again, with
only 30 percent of the units let, but the profits from November and December
should see it through, and thanks to two weddings in February, he expected to
break even again. Come the summer, when various activities would be available
on the estate, such as hiking, fishing and horse riding, he expected the
business to be self-supporting enough to begin paying him back.
His plan for the estate was to
turn the unoccupied properties into holiday lets, including turning the main
house into self-catering apartments of varying sizes, ranging from one bedroom
for couples, to six bedrooms, sleeping 14 with pull-out beds, for larger
holiday groups, such as stag, hen and wedding parties. The licence to perform
weddings had yet to come through and was still a thorn in his side. The two
February weddings were friends of the family, hence why they booked before the
licence came through, but he still didn’t want to let them down.
It wasn’t a hotel though. They had
facilities to cater for large events, but outside caterers would be called in
and temporary staff hired to wait tables.
Each apartment and cottage had its
own kitchen and guests were expected to cater for themselves. Housekeeping
could be arranged throughout a stay, but that was at an additional cost.
The main house had been built in a
square, with central gardens and courtyard in the centre, and a large archway
in the south wing, at the rear of the property, which was large enough for a
tall van to drive through if necessary, which helped with mowing the lawn.
Each ground floor apartment on the
outer side had its own small garden area and decking, but the central courtyard
was open to everyone.
He had saved the south wing of the
house for himself and his family, dividing it into four apartments so their
garden at the rear was private. Although he didn’t need the space right now, he
hoped that one day he would have a family, and his three spare bedrooms could
be put to good use. His mother’s apartment was just two bedrooms, for her
and any friends she might like to come and visit her. The apartments earmarked
for his brother and sister were three and four bedroom respectively but since
neither showed any interest in returning to the estate right now, they were
rented. Between his three spare bedrooms and his mother’s, he could house them
if they came to visit.
Although pleased with his progress
and the 100 percent occupancy, he wasn’t looking forward to Christmas, and
intended to remain holed up in his apartment on Christmas day, watching action
movies and denying that it was anything other than a normal day.
The family had abandoned him too,
all preferring to spend Christmas alone this year but he couldn’t blame them
for that, because it was exactly what he wanted to do as well. If they had
asked to come and stay, he would have said yes and endured it because they were
family but honestly, it would have been hell.
When the main door buzzer rang in
his apartment, he groaned. The final guest had checked in and been given their
keys an hour ago, so this was probably someone who wanted something from him.
It was amazing how many people in self-catering accommodation, expected a
stocked fridge or a mini-bar. They did provide some complimentary staples in a
basket, such as local eggs, cheese, bread and a bottle of red and white wine,
and he wondered if that gave them the impression that he cared about
hospitality.
It had been the head housekeeper’s
idea but he was considering finishing it since it seemed that old adage, give
an inch and they’ll take a mile, was true. Mostly they came knocking wanting
more wine, as if he was an off licence or something! When he refused, since he
didn’t have a licence to sell alcohol and he wasn’t about to keep giving it
away, they got huffy.
With a sigh, he got up and went to
see what they wanted. When he reached the intercom, he realised that the person
was outside, meaning that she had come from one of the cottages and was either too
drunk or too lazy to drive into the local town and purchase her own food and
drink. Rather than buzzing her inside, he left the apartment and went to meet
her, hoping that the cold would keep her from lingering for too long as she
tried to persuade him.
As he opened the door, he noticed
that she was wheeling a large suitcase and carrying a laptop case over her
shoulder, but he didn’t think much of it, other than that she was either very
lazy and couldn’t carry a bottle of wine back to her cottage, or she was in for
a shock when she realised that he would not be furnishing her with enough wine
to fill that suitcase.
“Can I help you?” he asked,
although his tone suggested nothing like a desire to help.
She looked a little taken aback at
his gruff voice but persevered.
“Um, I booked a cottage under the
name of Annie Powell?”
He frowned. “The Powells checked
in two hours ago.”
“There must be some mistake, I
made that booking, for one person and as you can see, I only just got here.”
He sighed and ran a hand through
his hair. “Look, Miss, I really am sorry but all our units are occupied.”
“But I booked and paid for it!”
When he looked sceptical, she let
go of her case and began rummaging in her large handbag. He noticed that she
was exceptionally pretty, in an understated way. Her hair looked very dark
brown or black and was cut to mid shoulder length, she wore a little makeup but
her dark lashes framed sapphire blue eyes, and the cold had brought an
appealing pink sheen to her cheeks.
He wondered what she looked like
underneath that bulky coat she wore, since he had a feeling from her jeans and
boots peeking out below the hem, that she might have a very attractive figure.
He felt the pull of attraction to
her, of an intensity that he hadn’t felt for a long time.
She pulled out a tablet computer,
opened the cover and handed it to him.
“Here, that’s the email
confirmation I was sent from Hartman Hall Holiday Homes.”
Although he really didn’t need
this right now, the email did look like one that his website would send and
anyway, he was starting to feel bad about leaving her out in the cold, since
the snow was coming down quite heavily now.
“Why don’t you come inside and
I’ll see if I can figure this out.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a grateful
smile and he opened the door wide for her to enter. He led her to a door off
the reception, which served as his office. “Take a seat,” he said as he turned
his computer on.
“Thank you.”
She took her scarf off and began
blowing into her hands to warm them. She didn’t remove the black woollen coat
however, and he regretted that.
“Can I get you a warm drink?” he
asked, hoping to coax her out of the coat.
“No, thank you; I don’t want to
put you to any trouble.”
“It’s no trouble.”
“Really, I’m fine, thank you.”
She was thanking him an awful lot,
considering that he hadn’t done anything for her yet.
While the computer booted up, he
got out the file of check-in slips for today and looked through them. While
some of the handwriting was bad, there was clearly no one called Powell that
had checked in today. There was however, a Farrell, which might explain his
initial confusion.
With the computer ready, he opened
the bookings file and looked through the listings with today’s check-in date.
Farrell was there, as was Powell. One by one, he matched the names from the
check-in book to the bookings and discovered that while he had given Mr and Mrs
Jacobs the Rose Cottage, they didn’t have a booking.
It was a rookie mistake; they came
saying they had a booking, he gave them the last one without checking his
records or asking to see their confirmation, thinking it had to be theirs.
“It seems I gave your cottage
away,” he admitted. “I’m so sorry. I’ll go and ask them to leave.”
He wasn’t looking forward to this,
especially since he remembered the family’s thrilled smiles as he showed them
around Rose cottage. They probably thought they’d had an upgrade but in
reality, they hadn’t booked anything at all, and now they and their two kids
had to find somewhere else to stay. This close to Christmas and near a popular
ski resort, that wouldn’t be easy.
Miss Powell was staring out of the
window and frowning.
“I really am sorry,” he tried to
reassure her. “They’ll be gone in no time, then you can settle in.”
“How many of them are there?”
“Four, why?”
She looked over at him and he
could see that her frown was caused by concern, rather than upset.
“Don’t move them. It’s late and
it’ll be harder for them to find somewhere, while I haven’t even unpacked yet.
If you agree to refund my card, I’ll go back to town; there has to be something
available, a hotel or a Bed and Breakfast.”
She got to her feet and took hold
of the handle of her suitcase.
“Sorry to have bothered you.”
He couldn’t believe it, he had
fouled up and she was giving away her booking and apologising to him.
“Wait,” he called as was about to
disappear through the door, back into the hallway. She turned back. “There is
another option.”
She looked curious.
“It’s one of the family units but
the owner is away at the moment.”
“I don’t think I could sleep in
someone else’s bed, not without their knowledge.”
“Well it isn’t her bed yet, not
really.”
She was frowning again and he
realised that he wasn’t explaining himself very well. Miss Powell seemed to have
the effect of turning him into a tongue tied teenager again.
“She hasn’t been back since the
renovations were finished,” he clarified. “And she isn’t due back until
January; she’s on a round the world cruise with her friend.”
She seemed to be wavering, biting
down on her lower lip as she weighed up her options.
“The weather is getting worse out
there, I can't in all good conscience let you drive in this.”
“Are you sure she won’t mind?”
“Positive.”
“You know her that well?”
“I do.” He picked up her case, as
if that settled the argument.
“Then, thank you.” She followed
him as he led the way to the rear of the house.
“So, you’ve worked here for a
while then?” she asked.
He had avoided telling everyone
else who checked in that he was part owner of this estate, because he didn’t
want them to know he had so much invested in the venture, and partly because he
hadn’t come to terms with the reason he was part owner. With Miss Powell
however, it was something else that held him back.
A lot of women liked him, while
others liked his money, and sometimes it could be hard to tell which was which.
Something told him that Annie would like him for him, but he wanted to be sure.
“Not that long, but I’ve known the
family forever.” Which technically speaking, was true.
“Well I haven’t exactly seen much
of it, but from what I’ve seen, you have a lovely place here.”
“Thank you. A lot of time and
effort went into the renovations.”
“What’s the rest of the estate
like?” she asked.
“You’ll see for yourself tomorrow
but if I do say so myself, it’s spectacular.”
“Then I hope I get a chance to see
it before I go.”
“Why? You’re not agoraphobic, are
you?”
“No,” she laughed. “But I’ll just
stay for tonight and try to find somewhere else tomorrow.”
He thought they had been over
that. “No, please, this is my fault. We’ve only been open a few weeks and we’d
hate for bad reviews to start appearing online; I could lose my job! You
wouldn’t want that, would you?”
He could tell from her smile that
she knew he was joking, at least in part.
“Well, such Scrooge-like behaviour
is in keeping with the season.”
“Ah yes, but Scrooge learned the
error of his ways.”
They had reached a door that said
S2, and he unlocked it.
“That’s me,” he said, pointing to
the next door along the hall, S1. “Just knock if you need anything.”
He led her inside and turned the
lights on as he went.
“Bedroom, bedroom plus en suite,
bathroom, lounge, utility room, very large closet-slash-space I didn’t know
what else to do with and finally, the kitchen.”
To his delight, she was looking
around but not into the rooms he was pointing out, she was looking at the
ceiling roses, the crown moulding and the door handles, most of which were
original in this part of the house; the replicas were used in the public rooms.
Most of the furnishings in this
apartment were new, since his mother had expressly said that she didn’t want
painful reminders, so the antiques were spread through his and the other family
apartments. The new furnishings were quality pieces however, chosen with care
to please his mother and now, he hoped, Annie.
He knew it was ridiculous to care
what she, a virtual stranger, thought but since his mother had been away, he
had yet to see her reaction.
“So?” he asked.
“It’s gorgeous,” she exclaimed
with a smile. “Does the fireplace in the lounge work?”
“Well yes and no; it’s gas, which
isn’t exactly authentic, but it looks realistic and it’s convenient.”
“Sounds perfect,” she said.
“Well, I’d better find you some
bedding and towels and what not.”
“Great,” she smiled, still paying
more attention to her surroundings than to him, which now upset him a little.
He headed towards the short
corridor that led to the front door, but turned back as a thought occurred to
him, and was pleased to catch her checking out his behind. Perhaps he wasn’t
the only one feeling the attraction.
“Shall I leave the door on the
latch so I don’t disturb you?” he asked, shaking her out of the stupor she
seemed to be in. Her gaze left his bottom and her cheeks reddened when she saw
his smug smile.
“Oh, uh, yes, whatever you like.”
He hurried away, so that he could
return to her sooner rather than later.
___________________
I hope you liked that
taster and that it put you in the festive mood.
If you'd like to read
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