A Viscount for Valentine's: Highlands Holiday Novella by Rebel Carter

Author:Rebel Carter [Carter, Rebel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-02-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

It was approximately four o’clock in the afternoon when I looked at the clock and realized two things: First, I had no clue how I’d lost seven hours in the blink of an eye and second, I’d managed to fall head over ass into a crush on Graham Campbell.

The aforementioned man had just brought my attention to the time and called our work day to an end. I couldn’t wait to escape and get my head on straight.

“What the hell?” I hissed to myself, firing off a text to Del, letting her know I was ready to be picked up. The day had passed in a dreamy haze that hadn’t seemed rushed or tense. There had, of course, been more than a handful of meaningful looks, and I’d entertained about a half-dozen inappropriate thoughts about a certain bespectacled Scotsman who was looking sexier, funnier, smarter—just every -er available to describe a man—by the nanosecond.

I raised the folio I’d been using to cover my face and sneaked a look over at where he fussed over a spreadsheet. But of course, the second I dared look his way I found myself making direct eye contact.

I yelped at being caught, but his aristocratic blood was made of sterner stuff, and he only gave me a lazy smile.

“Would ye like tae get dinner tonight?” he asked, ignoring the strangled sound his question pulled out of me. I was going to chalk his ability to maintain a perfect poker face in front of my unintelligible noises as proof of his title.

“Ah, sure.” I cleared my throat, trying to recover. Just because a man asked you to dinner didn’t mean it was a date. “I could use something to eat,” I managed, praying my sister would text me that she was outside.

“Dinna forget yer coat. It’s cold out,” Graham said, stretching his arms over his head as he stood.

I nodded with a jerk and turned a blind eye to the strip of toned skin the move revealed to me. I needed to keep my thoughts pure and chaste. This was my boss. I was new in town and he was a friend.

You didn’t just show up in Scotland and get asked out by a viscount, okay? And certainly not before Valentine’s.

He’d given me a romance novel, for godsake. This was just a friendly little dinner between two adults—

“And just so there’s no mistaking me, I wish fer this to be a date,” Graham said as he sauntered past me.

“What? What do you mean?” I asked, my voice coming out shriller than any human ear was ever meant to hear.

Not that I cared about presenting my best self, not right now, not when Graham was asking me out.

He looked at me over his shoulder. “A’m hoping tae court ye, lass.”

“What?” I was dumbfounded by this man. “I mean—why?”

Graham drummed his fingers against the doorframe he leaned against. “Yer clever, intelligent, and—”

I tensed at the and. The and was usually when a man told me I was

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