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‘Oui,’ Navarre confirmed drily.
‘You are so spoilt!’ Tawny exclaimed loudly, winning Jacques’s startled scrutiny from the front seat as she turned briefly to shoot his employer a reproachful look. ‘You’re going to be staying in a genuine castle and you’re not even excited! Not even a little bit excited?’
‘You’re excited enough for both of us,’ Navarre countered. His attention was commanded against his will by the vibrant glow of her heart-shaped face and the anticipation writ large there, eyes starry, lush peachy mouth showing a glimpse of small white teeth. Adults rarely demonstrated that much enthusiasm for anything and, to a man who kept all emotion under strict lock and key, there was something ridiculously appealing about her complete lack of inhibition.
The helicopter, which had carried them north from their private flight to Edinburgh and lunch at a smart hotel there, landed in a paddock within full view of the castle. Navarre sprang out in advance of Tawny and then swung round to lift her out. ‘I could’ve managed!’ she told him pointedly, smoothing down her clothing as though he had rumpled her.
‘Not without a step in that skirt,’ Navarre traded with all the superiority of a male accustomed to disembarking from such craft with a woman in tow.
Tawny had slept like a log the night before in the room she had shared with Elise. Similar in age, the two young women had chattered over a late supper, exchanging innocuous facts about friends and families.
‘The boss warned me that I had to be sure to feed you!’ Elise had teased, watching, impressed, as Tawny demolished a plate of sandwiches.
Now she was in the Scottish Highlands for the weekend but Navarre had only divulged their destination after he had invited her to join him for breakfast in his suite that morning, when he had also filled her in on a few useful facts about their hosts.
Tawny was rather nervous at the prospect of meeting Sam and Catrina Coulter. Sam was the extremely wealthy owner of the Coulter Centax Corporation. Catrina, whom Navarre had admitted was an ex, was Sam’s second, much younger wife and formerly a very successful English model. The couple had no children but Sam had had a son by his first marriage, who had died prematurely in an accident.
‘So is this where Sam and Catrina live all the year round?’ Tawny asked curiously as they walked towards the Range Rover awaiting them. ‘It must be pretty desolate in winter.’
‘They don’t own Strathmore Castle, they’re renting it for the season,’ Navarre told her wryly. ‘Sam’s very into shooting and fishing.’
Sam Coulter was in his sixties, a trim bespectacled man with grey hair and a keen gaze. Catrina, a beautiful brunette with big brown eyes and an aggressively bright smile, towered over her empire building husband, who made up for what he lacked in height with his large personality. Refreshments were served before the fire in the atmospheric Great Hall that had walls studded with a display of medieval weaponry, fabulous early oak furniture and a tartan carpet. Catrina made a big thing out of cooing over Tawny’s engagement ring and tucked a friendly hand into the younger woman’s arm to lead her upstairs, but there was neither true warmth nor sincerity in her manner. Only when Catrina left Navarre and Tawny in the same room did it occur to Tawny that they were expected to occupy the same bed.
‘We’re supposed to share?’ she whispered within seconds of the door closing behind their hostess.
‘What else would you expect?’
Unfortunately Tawny had not thought about the possibility. Now she scanned the room. There was no sofa, nothing other than the four-poster bed for the two of them to sleep on, and something akin to panic gripped her. ‘You could say you snore and keep me awake and—’
‘You’re not that naive. We must share the bed. It is only for two nights,’ Navarre drawled.
‘I’m shy about sharing beds,’ Tawny warned him.
Navarre studied her, intently. ‘I’m not,’ he told her without hesitation, flashing her a wickedly amused smile.
A painful flush lit Tawny’s complexion. But the mesmerising charm of his smile at that instant knocked her sideways and her susceptible heart went boom-boom-boom inside her ribcage. ‘I really don’t want to share a room with you.’
‘You must have expected this set-up,’ Navarre said very drily. ‘Engaged couples rarely sleep in separate beds these days.’
It was a fair point and Tawny winced in acknowledgement. ‘I didn’t think about it.’
‘We’re stuck with the arrangement,’ Navarre countered in a tone of finality. ‘Or is this a ploy aimed at demanding more money from me? Is that what lies behind these antiquated protests?’
Tawny froze in astonishment, affronted by the suggestion. ‘No, it darned well is not! How dare you suggest that? I just haven’t shared a bed with a guy before—’
Navarre quirked a sardonic black brow. ‘What? Never? I don’t believe you.’
‘Well, I don’t care what you believe. You may sleep around but I never have!’ Tawny slung back at him in furious self-defence.
‘I didn’t accuse you of sleeping around,’ Navarre pointed out, his innate reserve and censure never more evident than in his hard gaze and the tough stubborn set of his strong jawline. ‘Nor will I accept you throwing such impertinent remarks at me.’
‘Point taken but I’ve always believed in calling a spade a spade and exclusive you’re not!’ Tawny responded, her temper still raw from the idea that he could think she was using the need to share a bed as an excuse to demand more money from him.
‘Tonight we’re sharing that bed, ma petite.’ Navarre dealt her an intimidating appraisal, inviting her disagreement.
Tawny opened the case sited on the trunk at the foot of the bed to extract the outfit she had decided to wear for dinner. She loathed his conviction that she was unscrupulous and mercenary but she saw no point in getting into an argument with him. Navarre would probably fight tooth and claw to the death just to come out the winner. A row might be overheard and he would have reason to complain if anything happened to mar their pretence of being a happy couple.
‘And by the way, I am exclusive with a woman for the duration of our time together.’
