An Unexpected Affair (2 page)

McMillan Farm had been in Derek's family for generations. He was born there, grew up there, and was likely going to die there if he had his way. Ever since his parents' passing many years ago, the farm had been mostly Derek's responsibility. Sure, he had an older brother, but Aidan preferred to travel the world rather than stay home and tend the land, and as such only came by a few times a year.

Derek's farm was the perfect place for a bear, actually, that's why his ancestors moved here two centuries ago, and why he was never tempted to leave like his brother. The vast countryside gave him plenty of space to roam. The rivulet carving its way through his property provided ample opportunity to fish when the season was right, and the best part was, there weren't many people around.

The only people that did turn up were paying guests: mostly middle-aged or older couples, or the occasional young family that was trying to teach their children about nature. Avoiding them when the urge to shift took over was quite easy. He'd never been caught, which was fortunate, because all bears lived by the code of secrecy.

The holiday cottages were set away from the main farmhouse by a safe distance, and visitors were mostly self-sufficient. All Derek did was make sure everything was in working condition and provide some basic supplies. Although it wasn't ideal, inviting strangers into his territory, it was his way of earning a little extra money from his land without much effort.

This month's visitor was probably going to be the same. Clarice Adler from London.

The name had conjured up images of white permed hair and floral dresses in Derek's mind. A posh old lady, no doubt, who he imagined used to spend her younger days riding horses in the English countryside before moving to London. Her insistence in the comment box of the booking form that her stay should be as quiet and undisturbed as possible only supported his assumptions. This was going to be someone who had grown up in the country, who was now yearning to get back to a simpler life for two weeks.

When her grey rented hatchback slowly crawled through his main gate, he didn't need to sneak a peek to know what she'd look like. After fifteen years in the tourism business, his instincts were always right, so he kept on mowing the lawn as if he hadn't noticed the new arrival.

The car came to a halt a little way up the drive, and then it turned left, following the signs he had put up last winter, leading to the cottages. Derek had already prepared Moss Cottage for its latest guest. The bed was made, the pantry was stocked, and the key was in the front door.

Although he did often check in with visitors on the first day, just to see to it that they were comfortable, he preferred to play as small a role as possible in their visit. It wasn't that Derek disliked the tourists, he was just a very private person.

When he was done with the lawn in front of the house, he prepared himself for his regular evening routine: check on the bees as well as the other animals, take a round of the kitchen garden to harvest the last of the summer crops to add to his winter stash, perhaps say hello to the visitor before retreating to the farm house to prepare a nice cut of meat for dinner.

"Hello? Is anybody here?" a clear female voice called out to Derek from outside the barn where he had just parked the lawn mower.

He wiped his hands clean on his overalls, then marched out to greet what he assumed must have been the old lady staying at Moss Cottage. Nothing could prepare him for what he saw waiting for him outside, though.

The shapely woman with brunette hair standing in front of him couldn't have been older than thirty at the most. Her amber eyes flitted back and forth skittishly between him and the surrounding trees as she waited for him to reach her.

It took a lot of focus for him to remember the usual niceties city folk expected.

"Derek McMillan. Nice to meet you," Derek said, sticking out his hand to greet his guest.

Though he tried not to stare, her feminine curves invited a closer look. Instead of acting rude, he tried to focus on her face. High cheek bones, full lips, almond-shaped, kind eyes. Perfection.

"Oh. Clarice. Just call me Clarice." She hesitated for a moment with her arms hanging down her sides but finally took his much larger hand anyway.

It was as if an electric current passed between the two when their fingers first touched, but she barely reacted - at least not favorably. In fact, she pulled her almost fragile little hand back almost possessively after the shortest of greetings. That proved it; the attraction was definitely not mutual.

"Is there anything I can help you with? Did you find the cottage to your liking?" Derek asked.

Her eyes met his for a split second, but then she looked away again. Her demeanor reminded him of prey, painfully aware of the danger it was in. And her scent was more enticing, lovelier than a summer meadow in full bloom. There was something about her that he couldn't put his finger on. Something tempting that made the most primal part of his being want to own her.

"I..." she began, but then fell silent again.

In all his years running the cottages, he'd never found himself in an awkward position like this. Sure, he'd had as many female guests as male ones over the years, but never one who affected him so. Humans didn't hold much interest for him - not until right this moment - neither did most of his own kind for that matter. He had always been happily solitary: a bachelor by choice as well as circumstance.

Bears didn't live in large packs like wolves did, and they favored vast territories all to themselves. That was one of the reasons his kind was dwindling; they simply didn't get the opportunity to pair up often enough.

"Yes?" he asked.

His reaction to her was visceral, involuntary, and completely undesirable. The longer he stood in front of her, the more difficult was it for him to suppress his instincts and remain civil. All he wanted to do was pounce. Take her into his arms and make her his.

He didn't understand it, how a human could have this effect on him. Everything he felt, how the bear in him threatened to take over with every breath he took, made the hair on his forearms stand up. It felt like something he'd heard about a long time ago. But that kind of behavior was limited to bears and their mates. It didn't apply to human women, did it? Perhaps he had kept himself isolated for too long, and his instincts were rusty...

For once he wished Aidan was around. Since his brother was much more well-traveled, he might have had advice for Derek, but it was up to him alone to sort out this mess.

The next couple of weeks were going to be difficult, if not impossible.

"I just wanted to say hello. And to thank your wife... for the cake you left on the dining table. A lovely gesture."

He was about to interject that he wasn't married, but restrained himself, his hand instinctively reaching for a non-existent itch on his chin instead. So what if she mistakenly assumed another female presence had baked that cake to welcome her? Even though it pained him to let her think that there was someone else in his life, at least it would provide him with excuses to keep even more of a distance than he usually did with visitors.

"You're welcome. Now I'd best get back to work."

"Of course. Don't let me keep you. Thanks again."

He nodded at her and almost fled back into the barn. In fifteen years, he'd never been wrong at sizing up his guests from names and booking information alone. Had he had any indication that she would affect him like this, he would have canceled the reservation in a heartbeat.

In one afternoon, everything he had previously known to be true about himself had changed. No longer was he the stoic, practical bear he thought he was. She had awoken something in him that he never knew existed. A dangerous urge he'd heard spoken of in stories his parents used to tell when he was only a cub.

He regretted not being able to ask them for an explanation either, for advice on how to handle the situation. But they died a long time ago, and Aidan was God knows where.

Either way, Clarice Adler was here to stay, at least for the next couple of weeks. Derek couldn't yet guess just how much of an effect Clarice's presence at McMillan Farm would have on his life going forward.

Clarice was still reeling with the after effects of her meeting with Derek as she wandered back up the gravel path towards her cottage. The short exchange with the bearded stranger had left her completely off kilter. He was a handsome man, in a raw, extremely masculine sort of way. Broad, no doubt strong after years of physical work on the farm. Big hands, bigger arms. His wife must be one lucky woman.

She chided herself for objectifying the man. If someone ever admitted to thinking about her that way, she'd be offended - not that anyone did think of her that way. And yet, her thoughts couldn't help but return to the gutter even as she locked herself inside the cottage, closing the curtains in an attempt to isolate herself. Yet that dirty part of her brain, which insisted on feeding her speculations of how Derek McMillan might be in the sack, refused to switch off completely.

It had been a while, sure. Even before kicking Alan to the curb just after Valentine's Day, they hadn't shared a bed for at least a month as things had cooled off between them. While she was quite sure that things were pretty much over before he stepped out on her, part of her had kept wondering if it was all her fault. Perhaps she should have tried harder to keep the magic alive?

Stop it, that's the kind of thinking that makes a girl desperate.

Desperation was indeed pretty close to how Clarice felt now. Giddy like a school girl coming face-to-face with an unrequited crush. Her heart was still racing when she remembered the one thing she had gone to ask Derek about: cell phone reception.
Damn
.

The slightly stand-offish manner in which he'd interacted with her, plus her confused desires discouraged Clarice from going back and talking to Derek again. Plus, knowing her luck, she would probably find herself tongue-tied and swooning over the man, with a jealous wife looking on from inside the farmhouse. That sort of thing was bound to make her two-week stay even more awkward.
No thanks.

Clarice decided to make herself a cup of tea and enjoy a slice of the still warm, slightly sticky lemon and honey cake along with it. Once revitalized, and slightly more in control of herself and her impulses, she decided to go out for a walk. Perhaps if she backtracked the way to the village on foot, she could find a spot where her phone worked long enough to make a quick call to Lily.

The lack of network around the cottage wasn't such a bad thing. A blessing in disguise, Clarice thought, as she turned onto the main road outside the gate. There was no way she would be tempted to check her phone during working hours if she didn't have any signal in the first place.

Still, until she could get in touch with Lily to let her know she'd arrived safely, it was a bit of a nuisance. The village wasn't far, at least it hadn't seemed far in the car. But now that she was walking on the narrow road, through the little wooded patch outside the farm boundary, she felt as though she was completely cut off.

Unlike where she lived in London, here, a car was an absolute must, she could see that now. But she was determined to soldier on a bit further down the road to see if she couldn't find a connection at least for a short while. Even if it was just one bar on her phone, that would be enough to send a quick text message, right?

In her eagerness to get word out, she started typing it already while walking, not paying much attention to the road surface underfoot, or the views around her.

Dear Lily, I'm here but have crap network so am doing this real quick by text. Don't worry about me. The place is lovely, and I'll get loads done here. Love, C.

Send.

Clarice kept staring at the screen as the phone attempted to send the message without any signal. She continued along the winding road for another five minutes, almost stumbling into a pothole on the way. Then the tree cover opened up. The view stretched out ahead of her, revealing grasslands and even a bit of dramatic coastline in the distance.

Her phone also seemed able to 'see' much better from here, despite the thick gray clouds overhead, and the message finally went through.

What a relief.

Clarice put the phone in her handbag and looked around properly now. It really was a beautiful place, this island. The fact that there was not a soul around was eerie and enchanting in equal measures. As she kept standing there in the same spot for another few minutes, a chill seemed to pass over the landscape, signaling the arrival of dusk. It wasn't very late yet, but the clouds made it seem much darker than it should have been, and the wind had picked up slightly as well.

Time to head back.

Clarice turned, when from the corner of her eye she thought she could see movement in the trees. She didn't manage to see it properly, but it looked big. Much bigger than a person. Startled, she clutched her handbag tightly to her chest and just tried to remain calm.
Deep breaths. It's probably nothing.