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She does that without even asking why.
I have a wee bit of trouble concentrating with her body pressed to mine. She smells too good, and it's interfering with my thought processes. The second I free her heel, she jerks forward---and her tits are crushed to my chest. That's not the dangerous bit, though. No, I'm in danger of getting hard because she has her hand on my upper thigh, brushing against my cock.
Her eyes flare wide.
Aye, she must have realized where her hand is.
Rebecca freezes, her gaze nailed to mine. "Um, sorry about that."
"No worries, lass." But aye, I'm concerned that I might frighten her if I develop a raging erection. Then again, she doesn't seem like the sort who panics. I learned that in the thirty seconds I've known her. Bloody eejit. "Let me help you up."
"I'm kind of tangled up with you. Maybe I should disentangle first."
"Oh, no, I can take care of the situation."
Her brows lift as if she doesn't quite believe me. Well, we did meet a moment ago, so she has no reason to trust my claim.
I wrap my arms around her and jump to my feet, then march down the walkway steps until we reach solid ground. I set her down on her high-heeled feet. "There you are, lass."
She gawps at me even more now, as if I've sprouted large green boils on my body. "How did you---I mean, you just---" She shakes her head slowly, still gawping at me. "That was amazing."
"What was?"
"The way you picked me up and carried me down the steps. You did that starting from a prone position."
"Aye. What's odd about that?"
She roves her gaze over me from head to toe, and I doubt she realizes she's licking her lips. "I have never seen anyone do anything like what you just did. Thank you."
"Dinnae thank me. A man should always assist a woman in need."
Rebecca snorts. "Not the guys I've known."
"Have you met many Scotsmen?"
"No. This is my first time in Scotland."
"I see. Well, I'm glad my fellow countrymen are superior."
She straightens her suit jacket and smooths her hands over her hair, then straightens her posture too. "Let's go to your office, please."
"Aye. It's this way."
Rebecca glances at the stills as we cross the floor, heading for the hallway, but we don't actually walk through the main section of the distillery. I can give her the grand tour after I find out what Fiona thinks this woman can do for my business.
I push the door to my office open, gesturing for Rebecca to enter first. She sidles past me, careful not to brush against my body. After our wee problem a few minutes ago, I dinnae blame her for being skittish. I shut the door while she takes a seat in one of the two chairs that always sit in front of my desk. The lass watches me settle onto my leather executive chair. Fiona had insisted that, as the owner of the company, I should have a posh piece of furniture to rest my erse on.
At least it's comfortable. But I feel ridiculous whenever I sit on the thing.
Rebecca crosses her legs and lays her portfolio on her thigh. "Did Fiona tell you anything about what I do?"
"Only that you're supposed to be a marketing expert. I assume that's why you're called a marketing manager."
"And what does that term mean to you?"
"What term?"
"Marketing manager."
