Kane's Reckoning. A Blackwood Series Novel.

Excerpt from Kane's Reckoning

A Blackwood Series Novel

Book 2

Startling Revelations

The next morning, I was having coffee in my room, my fingers happily tapping away on my laptop as I skimmed over page after page of places I’d like to see while I was in Scotland.

When my cell phone rang the I glanced at the bedside clock on the small table beside the bed. Seven am.

I let out a huff. It was probably Lydia, or Eveline, calling to check up on me. Or more likely, wanting details about my first meeting with Kane. I considered letting it go to voicemail.

But I knew them both too well. They’d just keep calling and calling, until I picked up.

Saving my search, I reached for the phone. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the number on the screen, and my hand shook, just a little, as I took a deep breath, then hit the button and brought the phone to my ear. “Hello Kane.”

Did that sound too breathy? That sounded too breathy, I thought to myself.

“How did you know it was me?” he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice

“I uh…I still have your number in my phone from when I called you in Colorado.” Annnd… now I sounded like a pathetic loser.

“How are you this morning?” he asked. “I trust you slept well.”

“I did, actually,” I replied. “I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.”

“I’m happy to hear that. Jet-lag can be very stressful.”

Did he really call me at seven am just to see how I’d slept? “Yes. Yes, it can. So, what can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you had any plans for today?” he asked.

I looked down at my laptop, then flipped it closed. “Um…no, not really. I want to see as much as I can while I’m here, but honestly, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Well now, there’s no shortage of sights to see in Scotland, to be  sure,” he replied. “I was wondering though…if you had some time today that is,…. if you might be able to come by the estate? I’d like to talk to you about something.”

Was that nervousness I heard in his voice now? How was that even possible? The man had confidence to spare. “Of course.”

“Or I could meet you somewhere,” he offered. “If you’d like.”

Oh yeah, that was definitely nervousness. And I had to admit, it kinda threw me for a loop. “Actually, I’d love to come by,” I confessed. “The castle is so beautiful, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of it.” I waited a beat, trying desperately not to sound too excited at the idea of seeing him again. “If you’re up to showing me, that is,” I uttered hesitantly.

Was it my imagination, or was that a relieved breath I heard on the other end of the line? “I’d like that very much,” he murmured.

And with that, I had my second meeting with the devastatingly handsome Kane Blackwood.

*

Kane.

She arrived just after ten. After agreeing to meet with me, I’d sent Kenneth to collect her, and from my bedroom window, I watched the black town car pull up in front of the castle.

When my driver came around to open her door, I admired the slim lines of her legs as she drew herself out of the vehicle. The weather was unseasonably warm, and she’d dressed comfortably in stylish black jeans and a white sweater and shiny black walking boots.

The sweater wasn’t tight by any means, but the light material clung loosely to the sleek lines of her figure, the scooped neckline accentuating her generous breasts.

I made my way out of the room, intending to meet her at the front door. By the time I reached the bottom of the staircase however, I found that Davina had already greeted her, and the two women were deep in conversation. I halted on the last step, overcome once again at the incredible resemblance between my Emmaline and this woman.

It really was uncanny. Eerily so.

As I began walking towards them, Emily’s eyes caught mine, and she seemed to still.

The pull between us was still there, even stronger than the night before, and judging from her expression, it seemed she felt it too. “Hello, Emily,” I murmured with a small smile.

Her cheeks colored to a lovely shade of rose as she actually blushed. That was interesting. “Kane. It’s nice to see you again,” she uttered.

After our encounter in the library, I was curious as to how she would respond to my touch. Taking her hand in mine, the feel of her soft skin was intoxicating, but thankfully, although her eyes darkened, they remained clear, and she didn’t sway on her feet as she’d done the first time we’d met. “I’m glad you came. I hope I didn’t interrupt your morning.”

She immediately shook her head. “Oh…no. I was just looking over things to do in the area. Trying to decide where I wanted to go first.”

I nodded. “And did you?”

Her silky brows arched in question. ”Did I what?”

A chuckle escaped from between my lips. “Decide where you want to go first?”

Her mouth opened just a tiny bit, as if she were embarrassed at her lack of composure. “Oh. Well, no, not yet. There’s just so much to see. I don’t even know where to begin,” she smiled.

I looked over at Dove, who had been watching our exchange with bemused curiosity. “Well then, perhaps Davina can work on that today while I show you around the castle,” I suggested.

Emily turned to the other woman as well, “Oh, no. I couldn’t ask her to do that,” she objected politely. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

But Davina was already shaking her head. “It’s no bother at all,” she assured me. “As I said last night, I’d be happy to recommend some places I think you’d like.” Giving Emily’s arm a pat, she turned to me. “I’ll be in my office if you need me, Kane.”

“Thank you, Dove,” I replied, then turned back to Emily as my assistant made her way down the hallway to our offices. “So then, would you like that tour?”

“I’d love that,” she smiled. “Thank you.”

 Much of the castle had been closed off when we’d moved back. Dove had hired a small housekeeping staff, as well as the cook that came in daily, but they all had their own homes in town. And as it was only Dove and I living here, and we rarely entertained, there really wasn’t any reason for us to have a full-time staff on the grounds.

Since Emily had already seen the library and dining room, I skipped that part of the castle. I was anxious to discuss my proposition with her, so I gave her the whirlwind tour, ending in the main living area.

I stood aside as she peeked into the room. The furnishings were simple. A burgundy-colored sectional sofa and a matching loveseat sat in the center of the room, with two small wooden tables between them, and a comfortable wingback chair faced the sofa. The double doors on the far wall that led to a spacious garden patio were open, bathing the room in soft, mid-morning sunlight.

The scent of roses faintly filled the air, lending to the peacefulness of the room as Emily wandered over to the doors, a delightful hum escaping her throat as she took in the large garden area, complete with a small, wrought iron table and four chairs. “This is beautiful.”

I walked over to stand behind her, probably a bit closer than was entirely appropriate, but I couldn’t help myself. She was just too tempting, the light, subtle scent she wore too hard to resist. “I’ve always found it very peaceful,” I said, and when she turned to me, her surprise at my closeness was evident as her chest bumped mine. Her bluebonnet eyes widened slightly as her lips parted to take a breath. “Dove and I sometimes dine out here,” I uttered. “It’s very relaxing.”

At the mention of the other woman’s name, her back stiffened ever so slightly. “I can imagine,” she said, rather curtly.

Narrowing my eyes, I wondered at the cause of her tone. I hadn’t noticed any tension or animosity between the two when I’d come downstairs just now. In fact, they had seemed to get along very well at dinner last evening, and I recalled that Dove had been nothing but gracious on both occasions. So why the sudden unease? “How many bedrooms are there? “ she asked, and I decided not to press her on the subject. For now.  “There are sixteen bedrooms,” I answered. “Mine and Davina’s, as well as one guest room for the occasional overnight guest, which you’ve already seen. Since we don’t use the others, they’re empty at the moment”

“The staff don’t live here?” she asked, obviously a bit surprised.

“They used to,” I replied, “many years ago. When I…when my family lived here, there were servant’s quarters on the grounds. But as it’s just Dove and I now, we hardly need a full staff, so I turned the building into garage space.”

Emily nodded her head. “Yes, Kenneth mentioned you had quite the collection,” she teased.

I smiled at this. “Well, I will admit, I do have a certain weakness for beautiful things.” Staring down into her bluebonnet eyes, I lost myself in their luminous depths. “Cars just happen to be one of them,” I murmured softly. Holding her gaze with mine, I waited to see how she would react to my obvious flirtation. But to my disappointment, all she did was lower her head with a small smile. “Well then, shall we go to the library?” I suggested. “As I said, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

Following me to the comfortably luxurious room, I waited as she took a seat on the large sofa. “Would you like some coffee?” I asked politely. She appeared a bit nervous, and I thought perhaps the caffeine might calm her.

“Oh, no, thank you,” she answered a bit skittishly. Odd. Did I unnerve her so much? Taking a seat in the chair facing her, I attempted to ease the awkward tension, engaging her in casual chitchat.

I asked if her accommodations at the inn were to her liking, and she assured me she would be comfortable there during her visit. I then asked her about her store, delighted, and completely charmed when her eyes softened as she spoke. It was obvious she was very proud of her establishment, and as she talked, I could tell she truly loved what she did. “I’m sorry,” she said after a moment, and with a tiny smile, her cheeks flushed with just a hint of embarrassment. “I’m rambling on,” she apologized.

“Not at all,” I assured her. “Your store sounds very interesting, actually. Scottish memorabilia, I believe you mentioned on the phone?”

“Mmmm, mostly, yes. It’s always been a fascination to me. Scottish history, I mean.”

“But you’ve never been to Scotland before now?” I asked her.

At this, she gave a shake of her head. “Nope. But as I was born here, it’s always been on my bucket list.”

“Yes, I believe you mentioned you were born in… Edinburgh, was it?”

I knew this of course. After she’d contacted me about the painting, I’d done my research on the lovely Ms. Snow. But obviously, I couldn’t let her I knew this.

“That’s right.” she replied.

I raised a brow. “Then how is it that you were raised in Colorado?”

The question had been puzzling me all week. Ever since I’d had my friend Damien Clarke investigate her background. After I’d read the report he’d sent me, I was all too curious about why Emily’s parents had chosen to raise her in Colorado, instead of Scotland, where she was born. 

“Well, my mother was adopted,” Emily answered. “And she’d always wanted to adopt a baby herself one day. So, after my parents got married, they decided to adopt a child before trying to get pregnant on their own. They had a friend here who ran an adoption agency. And that’s how they found me,” she smiled. 

My breath seemed to leave my lungs, and my entire body stilled at her revelation. “You were adopted?” I murmured lowly.

“When I was just a baby, yes” Emily responded.

The information caught me completely unaware. There’d been no mention of an adoption in Damien’s report. But that did explain why she wasn’t born in Colorado, like her siblings. “I see,” I murmured. I did my best to keep the astonishment from my tone, but I was completely shaken by the news. “How fortunate for you, then,” I said faintly, “to have found such a loving family.”

Emily’s smile widened. “Very fortunate. I couldn’t have asked for better parents. The Snows are amazing people.”

“I’m sure they are.” I couldn’t stop staring at her. This was just too incredible. “Tell me, do you know anything about them? Your biological parents, I mean.”

With a tilt of her head, Emily shook her head thoughtfully. “Not really. Only that they were very young when I was born, and that they lived in Scotland.”

“In Edinburgh,” I remarked a bit unsteadily. I just couldn’t wrap my head around what I was hearing.

“That’s right,” she replied.

My heart was pounding, and I knew I had to calm myself before I said something that I would later regret. It was just too soon. “Is that why you became interested in Scottish history then? Because of your heritage?”

Her eyes squinting a bit, she took a moment to think on my question. “Maybe,” she finally replied. “I’ve never really thought about it before.”

I looked down at the ring on my left hand. “Did your parents ever tell you anything about them?” I asked, valiantly attempting to keep my composure. When she didn’t immediately answer, I raised my eyes back to hers. “Your birth parents.” I said lowly. “Did they ever tell you their names, or who they were?”

Emily gazed at me curiously, no doubt wondering about my acute interest. “They did. When I was older. They told me everything they could, in case I wanted to learn about my past one day.”

“Do you mind if I ask what they were?” At this, she raised a silky brow, and I knew I might have gone too far. She would no doubt have questions of her own if I continued questioning her, but at this point, I failed to care. I needed to know, for my own reassurance, where her family came from.

Holding her gaze, I stared into her eyes. Her breath seemed to catch at what I knew she saw in mine. I could be a bit intimidating at times. I knew that. And I had no issue using that to my advantage. My bold nature had served me well in both my business, and my personal life. And apparently Emily, like most everyone else, was no more immune.

When she let out a shaky breath, her eyes softened with a delicate curiosity, and I knew that she was feeling the pull between us once again. “The names on my birth certificate are Oliver Beaton and Emily Bissette,” she uttered tranquilly. “They never married.”

Stunned, I could hear the blood roaring in my ears as my heart began to pound harder in my chest. “Bissette,” I uttered softly. “Your mother’s name is Emily Bissette.”

At my tone, she studied me closely, no doubt bewildered at the turn of the conversation, and the intensity of my interest in her family history. “No,” she replied firmly, “my mother’s name is Marilee Snow.”

The sudden tension in the room was palpable, and I needed to diffuse it. And quickly, before I broke down right here in my library. “Of course,” I said with a faint smile, doing my best to pull myself together. “Your parents. They named you after her, then? Your birth mother?”

She seemed to relax, if only a little. The stiffness in her frame eased a bit, and she seemed relieved to be talking about her parents. “They did.”

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Kane's Reckoning

A Blackwood Series Novel

Book 2

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