Can't Stop the Feeling (Sinclair Sisters 2)

“You do that,” Agnes said, clearly humouring her. “And while you’re telling him all about how you want things to be between you, you can keep him away from the mansion too. This afternoon would be the best time to get him out of here and have your talk.”

Donna ignored Agnes’ tone. There was no point arguing. Her sisters would see for themselves afterwards that she was more than capable of putting some distance between her and Duncan until she could find another job. Although, she’d needed to get over feeling nauseous every time she even thought about leaving the mansion.

“What’s wrong now?” she said.

“There’s a problem with the sound system for the ball,” Agnes told her. “The technicians need access. We can’t use the varnishing excuse again to keep him out of there, so you have to come up with a reason to get him out of the building for a couple of hours.”

“Why can’t we tell him there’s a problem with the varnish?” Mairi asked.

“Because,” Agnes said with forced patience, “he’s an artist. He knows about varnish. He’ll want to go in there and see what the problem is for himself. Won’t he?” she asked Donna.

“Probably,” she admitted. “I think you two should keep him occupied and out of the way. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to spend time with him until I’ve prepared what I want to say to him.” Or possibly written it down and pinned it to his office door.

Agnes was shaking her head. “You’re the only one he listens to. You need to get him out of here.” She looked at her watch. “In an hour.”

“How? It took two weeks to get him to agree to go to Glasgow. How am I supposed to get him out of the building in an hour?”

“Ask him to go play pool,” Mairi said.

“I can’t. I’m banned from playing. Remember?” She was banned from a lot of things at the local pub. The owner was a stick-in-the-mud.

“You’re only banned from playing for money. You can still play for fun.”

“Plus,” Agnes added, “it’s the only idea we’ve come up with.”

“It’s a stupid one. I need to distance myself from Duncan, not spend more time alone with him. What if he figures out I’m in love with him? What then?”

Again, they spoke at the same time.

“Jump his bones,” Mairi said.

“Tell him he’s mistaken,” Agnes said, then glared at Mairi. “Is sex all you think about?”

She considered that for a moment. “Yeah,” she said with a nod.

“Okay.” Agnes stood before bending over to give Donna a hand up. “Let’s ignore her and get you ready to take Duncan out.”

“What’s wrong with the way I am now?” Apart from the fact she was still lying on the floor that is. She wore her usual work clothes—black trousers, white blouse, flat shoes.

“Everything,” Mairi said. “Come on. I’ll help.”

“Oh great,” Agnes drawled. “With your help, we’ll have her dressed like a stripper in no time at all.”

***

Duncan should have been preparing his art college lecture, instead he was flicking through the copy of The Hobbit he’d found and marvelling again at the quality of the drawings. He traced the outline of the dragon with his fingertip. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to mentor someone again. It would be a shame for talent like this to go to waste.

He made a mental note to find the book’s owner after he came back from Glasgow, then slipped the book into the bag containing his lecture notes—what there was of them. If he got the chance, he’d have a word with the Fine Arts dean about the illustrations. Maybe she could give him some pointers on how best to encourage this kind of talent.

A knock on his door had him holding his breath. He’d kept his distance from Donna after she’d run out the night before because he was hoping she’d make her own way to him. She had until dinner to get her act together and then he planned to hunt her down.

When her head appeared around his door, he felt a wave of relief, quickly followed by something he hadn’t felt in years—hope. She’d come to him.

“Got a minute?” she said, not looking him in the eye.

“Sure. What’s up?” He came around to perch against his desk, playing it cool.

That lasted until she stepped into the room, and then everything changed. Because Donna wasn’t wearing her usual workwear. Instead, she wore the fern green Snoopy T-shirt he loved and faded blue jeans that hugged her curves like loving hands. Her hair sat tousled around her shoulder, her lips were painted a subtle shade of pink, and sexy beige suede boots peeked out from under her jeans.