Among the Heather (The Highlands, #2)

She let out a huff of laughter as she collapsed onto the bed and turned, her hair clouding around her face, her tits trembling. Her low-lidded eyes smoldered with pleasure and amusement. Her voice was huskier than ever. “Honestly, I can’t even argue with you after coming that hard.”

Smug, pleased, I grinned. “Good to know that I now have a way of winning every argument with you.”

Aria rolled her eyes, and I laughed as I reluctantly jumped off the bed to deal with the condom.

When I returned from the bathroom, tenderness filled me at the sight of her drowsy expression. I tugged on her hand, and her eyes opened. “You need to eat something.”

“I’d rather sleep.” She yawned as if to prove her point.

The woman worked too hard. Determined, I tugged harder. “Eat first. Then sleep.”

Hearing my tone, she groaned and pushed up off the bed. “Okay. But I hope you’re cooking.”

Chuckling, I hauled her onto her feet, copping a feel before I helped her into her robe. She only rolled her eyes again at my antics, but once I’d pulled on my jeans, she followed me downstairs, where I proceeded to force her to sit and do nothing while I made a pile of French toast for my woman.

My woman.

Three nights together and already she had me thinking that way.

I knew Aria wasn’t thinking that way.

This was just casual for her.

But I already knew it wasn’t casual for me.

I was hooked.

And in big fucking trouble.





Eighteen


ARIA





Icouldn’t remember the last time I’d floated into work in such a good mood. Worries over Allegra’s continued distance got shoved to the back of my mind. Not even the link my mother had sent me to a website for a new diet fad bothered me, and the million things I knew I had to do at work made me anticipate instead of dread it.

All because last night a generous man had made me feel beautiful and sexual, then fed me, then gave me another two orgasms before insisting on holding me as we fell asleep in bed together. I should have told North to go back to the castle, but it was raining and the truth was, I loved every minute of falling asleep in his arms. It didn’t mean anything other than I was appreciative. I’d permitted myself to enjoy North Hunter.

And I felt like a new woman.

North snuck into the castle first when we pulled up. I waited five minutes and strolled in on my cloud of happy. I beamed at Wakefield and called good morning to him. If my cheery greeting surprised the man, no one would know. Wakefield was the world’s best butler. He could keep a neutral expression through anything.

I’d barely settled into the office when he knocked on my door, bringing me my morning coffee. Beside the cup was a small plate. “Mrs. Hutchinson made her famous shortbread last night, and I took the liberty of procuring some for you.”

I grinned at Wakefield. “She forced you to bring it to me, didn’t she?”

“Yes, she did, Ms. Howard.”

Chuckling, I took the plate and coffee. “Thank you, Wakefield.”

“Very good, Ms. Howard.” He retreated from the office with a nod.

Eyeballing the shortbread, I murmured, “What the hell.” I’d burned calories last night. My skin heated remembering the way North had powered into me and the way I’d turned mindless and wanting beneath his hands. Never in a million years did I think I’d be able to get out of my head long enough to let go this much in bed. Honestly, it was more than a minor miracle. I didn’t think I could switch off like that for just anyone.

Making yummy noises as I ate my shortbread, I logged into my work inbox and swept over the subject lines of the first few emails. One caught my eye because it was from an address I didn’t recognize and the subject line was Urgent: Ardnoch Estate Inquiry.

Clicking it open, it took my brain a second to catch up with my body because my heart was already racing with incredulity and anger.

The email read:


To Whom It May Concern,

It’s incumbent upon me to make you aware that your estate manager, Aria Howard, is an overweight smear on the reputation and image of such an illustrious club as Ardnoch. Nepotism is an ugly thing when it puts your reputation at stake. You may want to rethink the hiring of an intellectually deficient fat girl that Lucas Grant dumped. Rumor has it she’s as frigid as she is stupid. Not to mention superior, unfriendly, and a bitch to your members. If you want a fat, nasty moron running your estate, have at it. But I think we both know Ardnoch deserves better. We’re paying a lot for membership. Don’t you think we should get what we’re paying for?

Yours sincerely,

A Disgruntled Member


The words fat, frigid, and moron kept jumping out of the email at me as I scanned it again and again, trying to make sense of it. My cheeks burned with rage and mortification as I cross-checked the email with our members’ files. There was no match. Racking my brain, I tried to think if I’d had an unpleasant encounter with any of the members, but none sprang to mind. The only person was North, and while I may not fully trust him, I didn’t for one second believe he’d send an email like this to anyone.

The other option was that it wasn’t a member. However, my email address wasn’t public. Of course, that meant little. Caitlyn got a hold of it, so clearly anyone could.

But this person knew exactly what buttons to press if they wanted to hurt me.

Why were people so goddamn awful?

My mouse hovered over the delete button, but ultimately I was smart about it and created a new folder in my inbox and filed the email away.

Just like that, the anonymous troll had ruined my amazing morning.

I jolted in my seat as my desk phone rang. The screen told me it was security. Wonderful. What now? “Aria speaking,” I answered tonelessly.

“Ms. Howard.” Walker’s familiar gravelly voice sounded down the line. “Have you seen the news this morning?”

I felt a pang of worry as I brought up my web browser. “No, what’s going on?”

“We may need to prepare for the paps returning to the estate. North Hunter is in the news again.”

I hit the speaker on the desk phone so I could free my hands to type. Sure enough, as soon as I searched North’s name, new headlines appeared on the screen. I scanned them, my pulse racing on his behalf. Someone had leaked the CCTV footage of the night North’s friends attacked the homeless man.

“Does North know?”

“I don’t know. Have you seen the footage?”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to. “No.”

“Be prepared if you do. It’s difficult to watch.”