“Would it help if I told you I thought of you as a lion? A strong, pouncing beast.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Was it her imagination or was there a bulge pressing into the curve of her stomach? Maybe he couldn’t help poking that thing into her. Must be terribly inconvenient when he hugged his granny or—
Damien groaned. “Oh, Lord Jesus help me. She’s laughing again.”
“Only because you are a fine specimen of beasthood.”
“The King of Beasts can mate up to thirty times a day.”
“That’s because he spreads himself between the females in his pride. It lasts just a few seconds each time. I watch the Nature Channel too.”
Slowly, Reiver padded into the sitting room and greeted Damien, who checked him over, all traces of flirtatiousness gone.
“I was expecting you this afternoon,” Anjuli said.
“I heard about Ash and the burglary and wanted to see how you were.”
Panicky and poor. “Drained.”
“Then get to bed, doctor’s orders.”
“I have a shift at the pub, and I’ve got to battle with numbers for Ash’s VAT inspection.”
“I’ll do your shift today.”
Damien laughed at her expression. “I’m Irish, aren’t I? Pulling pints is like having second sight. Don’t worry, I worked in a pub while I was at university. Stay home and get some sleep. I’ll talk to Viking and we’ll make an alternative appointment with Her Majesty’s Customs and Excise. I had to do it when—” He cut himself off. “Suffice to say I know it can be done.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll take Reiver with me now and drop him at the surgery for tomorrow’s op.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “And in return?”
“I get to kiss you into bed?”
Anjuli chuckled. “A peck at the door, I think.”
“My timing is as risible as my kisses.”
“Why don’t you hunt down that pride of females and try to improve it?”
“Ouch.”
* * *
Anjuli slept the afternoon and evening, waking up the following morning at sunrise before fixing herself a strong cup of coffee. The wind howled outside, and the draught whistling through the house warned of winter temperatures, never far off in the Borders.
She walked in and out of empty rooms, pausing to study each of them with pride. Before her return she’d wondered whether living in Castle Manor would be a disappointment. So many places that had seemed larger than life in her childhood were either completely transformed or diminished to her as an adult. But the old manor loomed larger than before, more exciting and alive, now that Rob was revealing its former glory.
Its large rooms were spacious, high-ceilinged examples of the elegance of another time. The cornices—intricate carvings of flowers and vines—vestiges of stately beauty. As she walked up the shorter, narrower steps to the third floor, Anjuli trailed her fingers on the cool, wooden banister. She surveyed the stripped walls and the newly built en suites. The floorboards were bare and ready for sanding. Gone was the plywood covering empty window frames, and in its place shiny new glass, marked with taped Xs.
What would be the final price for all this beauty?
Worry gnawed at her stomach, followed her to the ground floor. The sunny morning room, where ladies of the house used to sew and receive visitors, had a large crack on the east wall. It had appeared underneath the wallpaper and was probably nothing to worry about, Connor said, but if it was it would be another unforeseen expense to fork out for.
Taking her coffee to the sitting room, Anjuli saluted the fireplace with her cup, her morning greeting to the lady of the hearth. The lady’s equally elegant companion, “Evening Reverie”, was at the other end of the room. Both fireplaces were now in full working order thanks to Connor’s men, and fresh wood, chopped and ready, filled a large copper pail on the hearth.
Anjuli tapped her fingers on the carved mantel. Face grim, she ran through the estimate for the cheapest bathtubs, sinks and furniture required for nine en suites, the entire ground floor and new kitchen. She may have learned her lesson too late, but she was taking control of her finances and making informed decisions. Her insistence on not using the upmarket manufacturers Rob wanted would not be to his liking, but she would stick to her guns.
Anjuli checked her mobile. One missed call from Rob and a text from Damien, letting her know everything had gone well at the pub and Reiver had settled in fine.
Just as she was about to get into the shower, Anjuli heard the sound of an engine and then a loud bang at the back of the house. “No bloody way.” She was not going to be robbed again, not of a single rusted nail. Enraged, she pulled on her dressing gown and ran down the stairs and out of the kitchen door. Her axe was propped against the back wall and she picked it up, then looked at the car. She didn’t recognise it, but whoever it belonged to was inside the shed. Something fell and hit the ground and a man cursed.