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"I've hired a new employee, someone who knows how to pump up a business."
Not sure I want my distillery to be "pumped up." To be fair, though, I have no bloody idea what she means by that phrase. But it doesn't sound like anything I'd want to do.
Something to my left catches Fiona's attention. Her face lights up. When I try to glance in that direction, she lays a hand on my cheek to stop me. "Promise me you'll give this a real go. Please, Thane, I'm only doing my job." The lass pats my cheek. "And so is she."
"She?" A chill shimmies up my spine and the hairs at my nape stiffen. "Fiona, what have you done?"
The lass pats my cheek again, then walks past me.
I rotate toward the other end of the walkway. Fiona is talking to a woman, but I cannae see her face. Fiona's body blocks my view. When she sidles past the other woman, I finally get a good look at her.
Bod an Donais. That woman has the perfect body, with curves in all the right places and tits that could make a hundred-year-old man go hard in a heartbeat. Her reddish-brown hair hangs over her shoulders, and copper highlights shimmer in those locks. I experience a sudden, bizarre impulse to push her up against the railing and fuck her in full view of the distillery floor. Her skirt suit looks posh---possibly designer, as if I know anything about fashion. The suit hugs her figure without being unseemly.
The lass stops an arm's length from me. She has a leather portfolio tucked under one arm as she offers me her hand to shake. "Good day, Mr. Buchanan. I look forward to working with you."
"What?" I cannae understand what she said. My focus has narrowed to her bonnie honey-brown eyes and nothing else.
"Are you all right, Mr. Buchanan?"
I blink rapidly several times until I finally realize what she just said. "Who are you?"
"Rebecca Taylor."
"And why are you here?"
"Didn't Fiona tell you?"
I shake my head slowly, still confounded by my reaction to this woman. It's insane. But I suddenly realize I haven't let go of her hand, so I pull mine away.
Rebecca lifts her brows. "Is something wrong, Mr. Buchanan?"
"No. I apologize for my behavior. It's just that I'm bloody confused about who you are and why you're here in my distillery."
"Fiona hired me. I'm your new distillery marketing manager."
"My what? Dinnae recall hiring anyone."
Rebecca lifts her brows again. "Fiona told me that she has full authority to hire and fire employees."
"Oh, aye, of course she does." I feel my whole face cinching up into a tight expression. "I've never heard of a distillery marketing manager."
"Why don't we go into your office to discuss the matter? Then you can take me on a tour of the facility."
"Tour? Why?"
She peers past my shoulder. "Where is your office, Mr. Buchanan?"
The bloody woman won't give up, so I might as well find out what she means to do to my business. Fiona asked me to give this a real go, and I owe her at least that much. "All right. Follow me to the office."
I wave for her to do that while I stalk across the walkway, heading for the steps that will take us down to the distillery floor.
"Ouch! Gah!"
The feminine exclamation makes me stop and spin round.
Rebecca grips the rail with one hand while struggling to free her high-heeled shoe from the grate-like walkway.
"Mhac na galla." I hurry back to her and try to carefully pull her heel free, but it's difficult. Her body is twisted slightly. "Put your arms round me, lass."
