Christmas in the Boss's Castle

Grace’s hand came back. ‘Finlay, we don’t need to go there if you’re not comfortable.’ She bit her bottom lip. ‘But five years is a long time. Maybe it’s time to go back.’ Her gaze was steady. ‘Maybe it’s time to think about whether you want to keep the castle or not.’ She squeezed his hand again. ‘And maybe it won’t be quite as bad if you’re not there by yourself.’

He could see the sincerity in her eyes. She meant every word. She wanted to help him. She didn’t seem worried about the possibility of no water, no electricity or no heating. Just about every other woman in the world that he’d ever known would be freaking out right now. But Grace was calm. The excitement from the helicopter journey had abated now they’d been travelling for a few hours.

Something washed over him. A sense of relief. His stomach had been in knots. A long time ago he’d loved Drumegan Castle. Loved the approach and seeing the grey castle outline against the sky, towering above the landscape on the top of a hill. It used to give him tingles.

Then, for a while, it had given him dread. That had been the point of staying away for so long. He couldn’t imagine coming back here himself. He couldn’t imagine opening the front door and being swept away by the wave of emotions.

But even though those things were circulating around his brain, he didn’t feel the urge at all to break the connection with Grace’s steady brown gaze. There was something about being around her. A calmness. A reassurance he hadn’t felt in...so long. He placed his hand over hers. ‘I think you could be right.’ She was trying so hard to help him, but how much had he done for her?

‘You should have told me about your gran,’ he said quietly.

She shook her head quickly. ‘I couldn’t. Once you’d told me about Anna...I just felt so guilty. My grief can’t compare with yours. They’re two entirely different things.’

She was trying so hard to sound convincing, to stop the tiny waver he could still hear in her voice. Her grief was still raw. His?

He kept holding her hand. ‘It’s not different, Grace. You lost someone that you loved. This is your first Christmas without that person. I get it.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘Believe me, I do.’

He pulled her closer and she rested her head on his shoulder. Next thing he knew the pilot was giving him a shout. ‘Five minutes.’

He nudged Grace. ‘Wake up, sleepy. We’re just about to land.’

She sat up and frowned, rubbing her eyes and looking around. It was still pitch black outside. ‘Where on earth are we landing?’ she asked.

He smiled. ‘At the helipad. The lights are automated.’ As he said it they switched on, sending a stream of white light all around them. ‘The helipad can be heated to keep it clear. It has its own generator.’

Grace pressed her nose up against the window. ‘Is this near the castle? I can’t see it.’

She turned and planted one hand on her hip. ‘Finlay Armstrong, are you sure you have a castle? It’s a caravan, isn’t it? You’re secretly pranking me and taking me to a forty-year-old caravan with no heating and electricity in the middle of nowhere.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Don’t forget the no water.’

She laughed. ‘I couldn’t possibly forget that.’

He pulled a face. ‘Believe me, once you see the castle, you might prefer a forty-year-old caravan.’

She leaned back with a sigh as they approached the helipad. ‘I bet I won’t. Stop worrying.’

The helicopter landed smoothly and they jumped out into the biting cold air. ‘Whoa!’ Grace gave a start. ‘I thought London was cold.’

He grabbed her bags. ‘I told you to bring layers. Maybe I should have supervised the packing?’ He was only half joking. He was curious about where Grace lived and was annoyed he’d been distracted by a business call. It might not have been the most prestigious part of London but he’d have liked to have seen the home she’d shared with her grandmother and had so many good memories of.

He gave a nod to the pilot and walked off to the side as the helicopter took off again. There was a garage next to the helipad and he pressed a button to open the automated door. There was a squeak. And a creek. And finally it rolled upwards revealing a far too smart four-by-four.

Grace turned to face him. ‘This is yours?’

‘Last time I checked.’ He felt up in the rafters of the garage for the keys, fingers crossed it would start. He knew that his father secretly used the car on occasion to ‘keep it in running order’. He was just praying it hadn’t been too long since he’d last borrowed it.