Five Days in Skye: A Novel (13 page)

It was far safer to think of him as the cocky restaurateur who used his looks and fame to get what he wanted.

She turned the conversation away from thoughts of him and kissing and the unwanted feelings those topics conjured up. “I want to know what you did to get kicked out of three schools before the age of eighteen.”

“That’s going to cost you. You remember the rules.”

Him and his games. “Don’t I have the right to refuse to answer?”

“I’ll give you one pass. My first school didn’t suit me because of its … rigidity. I wandered about where I shouldn’t and got up to all sorts of trouble.”

“That’s not specific enough,” she said. “I want details.”

He grinned. “I skipped lecture, broke into the headmistress’s rooms to steal her unmentionables, then put them on the statue in the courtyard. In full view of the school.”

Andrea repressed a smile. “How about the next?”

“That one involved a sheep in the girls’ lavatory. That’s all I’m willing to say on the subject.”

“You and sheep. What about the third?”

“The third I actually didn’t get chucked out of. The headmaster strongly encouraged me to take my exams early. I passed, and all of Scotland’s boarding schools breathed a collective sigh of relief.”

That hardly surprised her. Intelligence and a distinct disregard for authority made a particularly bad combination.

“Okay, your turn.” Andrea braced herself for the most embarrassing question he could devise.

“Why did you really spend every day after school at the movie theater?”

That stopped her cold. “I don’t know if I want to answer that.”

“You don’t have to. But it means you have to answer anything else I ask you.”

“And you won’t hesitate to take full advantage. Fine, then. My mom died of an aneurism when I was twelve, and my father couldn’t cope. He started spending all his time at work. Becky was already away at college, so my aunt stayed with me after school. She wasn’t like Muriel, though. I went to the movies to escape her.”

“No one ever knew?”

“I said I was playing piano in the school orchestra. It didn’t last long, because eventually my dad wanted to see me perform. Now I want to know, what’s the worst decision you’ve ever made?”

“Getting involved with Cassandra.”

His frankness surprised her. “Right. The actress. How long were you two together?”

“Four years. Engaged for two. You really don’t know anything about it?”

“Only what Ian told me.”

James’s expression darkened. “What exactly did Ian say?”

“Just that you split up around the time your father died. I hadn’t heard anything about it.”

“You’re the only one then. Half the world watched the breakup of our relationship like a spectator sport. We were tabloid fodder for half a year. Have you ever been in love?”

“Is that rhetorical? Or is that your question?”

“Both.”

She could refuse to answer, but she found she didn’t want to. “Yes. His name was Logan. I was twenty-two when we met.”

“What happened?”

She gave him a wry smile, even though the effort cost her. “I married him. So we have something in common after all. We both have people in our past we regret.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say I regret it.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand. You said it was your worst decision.”

“God has a way of working these things for the best,” James said. “I didn’t end up marrying her, but she pushed me to take chances in my career I might not have otherwise considered. I don’t waste time wishing I could change things.”

“If I’d known what was going to happen, I would have run the other way.” She wouldn’t have fallen for a pretty face and prettier lies. She wouldn’t have lost her friends, her community, her entire future.

“I wouldn’t be in the place I am now if it hadn’t been for my past. Would you?”

“You sound like my sister, Becky.”

“Becky must be very intelligent then.”

Andrea cracked a smile. “She is. Just never tell her that. I’m subjected to enough big-sister wisdom as it is.”

The silence that followed was more comfortable, and Andrea stared out the window at the passing landscape until James said, “Decision time. Stop at the castle or go back to the island?”

Andrea hesitated. She’d already been lulled by the easy tenor of the day. The sensible thing would be to go back to Skye, but a little bubble of rebellion welled up inside her. What was the point in staying the week in Scotland if she refused to see the sights?

“Castle.”

“Now that you’re no longer wearing stilts, there are some nice easy walks you might like. Or we can just pretend we’re in a
Highlander
film.”

If it had been his intention to make her laugh, he succeeded. “That’s right. I’d forgotten they shot that movie there. I suppose you’d fit the part. Do you have a kilt?”

“Of course I do. What kind of question is that to ask of a MacDonald? Last time I wore it was Serena’s wedding.”

“I think I’d like to see that.”

“Oh?” He waggled his eyebrows at her comically. “I suppose that’s only fair since I’ve already gotten an eyeful of your legs. Mine aren’t nearly as spectacular.”

Andrea bit off a surprised laugh and felt the pink retake its place in her cheeks.

James made the turnoff for Eilean Donan and followed a short drive down toward the water, then found a space in the parking lot. Andrea’s eyes were already locked on the breathtaking castle before them. A long stone bridge stretched from the shore to the island where the main keep stood. It looked just like Andrea had always thought a castle should, with crenellated walls and square towers. Twisted, shrubby trees and long grasses clung to the side of the island. Right now, the tide was low, but she could imagine what it would look like completely surrounded by water, only accessible by the long bridge.

James opened the door for her, but he didn’t move out of her way when she stepped out.

“It’s cold.” He rearranged the scarf at her throat for warmth, then slid his hand down her arm and took her hand. He looked into her eyes for a long moment, as if asking whether she would allow the gesture. Then he winked, and it felt more like a dare.

Just when she felt like she’d gotten her footing with him, he caught her off guard again. She fumbled for words. “Are we going to stand here all day?”

“No, ma’am.”

She had to admit she didn’t mind the feel of her hand in his as they walked toward the ticket office, him matching his long stride to her shorter one.

“This place was named after an Irish saint from the sixth century, even though there wasn’t a castle here until the thirteenth,” he said. “
Eilean
means
island
in Gaelic.”

“Do you speak Gaelic?”

“A little. My aunt spoke it around us when we were young. I only remember a few phrases. Most are not fit for polite company.”

“Say something,” she said.

“Hmm.
An toir thu dhomh pòg?
”

“What does that mean?” From his expression, she was willing to bet she didn’t want to know.

“Just something we like to teach the tourists. Let’s buy our tickets.”

She followed him into the small ticket pavilion and wandered through the racks of souvenirs while he paid for their admission. On the way out, he took her hand again and led her toward the graceful bridge. Her spirits rose as they stepped onto the long stone walkway. Wind buffeted them on the exposed path, and she let herself move a little closer to him for warmth as they peered off the side at the tidewaters.

“I love old places,” she said. “They have weight to them. Sometimes New York feels so transitory. Even London with all its history doesn’t have the same feel as Scotland.”

“The cities are too busy.” He shifted so he blocked some of the wind for her. “The quiet is deep here.”

She glanced up at him, surprised by how well he understood her thoughts. “That’s exactly what it is. Deep quiet.” For a man who surrounded himself with the trappings of a city life, he was remarkably comfortable with the quiet.

They crossed into the castle courtyard where they explored the nooks and bends of the old structure. James held her firm, even up the long flights of stairs, only releasing her hand when they had to move single file to avoid other visitors. She couldn’t help the little lurch in her chest every time he reclaimed it, nor could she convince herself to pull away.

“What do you think?” James asked. “It’s a little cold for walking, and we might get rained on. Do you want to chance it?”

“Shouldn’t we be heading back anyway? You said something about dinner in Portree.”

“Portree it is, then.” They started back across the bridge, and he squeezed her hand. “Admit it. You’re enjoying yourself.”

“I am.”

“But you’re not ready to give Scotland your complete approval.”

She shot him a mischievous smile. “It might be growing on me. It still isn’t Tahiti, though.”

“Now that’s definitely a challenge. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into. I don’t back down from challenges.”

Inwardly, that was exactly what worried her.

Chapter Seventeen

The light was dimming into a dusky twilight when they crossed over the Skye Bridge. James glanced at Andrea to ask if she was ready for supper and saw her eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths.

“I’ll try not to be insulted that I put you to sleep, love,” he said with a smile.

She was softening toward him. He hadn’t been sure she would allow him to even hold her hand, but she’d gripped it tight while they walked. For a time, her serious expression had lightened to one of pure delight. And yet their single not-quite-kiss had sent her scrambling back behind her excuse of professionalism.

Was it all due to Logan? What could the man have done to her that it colored everything in her life? Cassandra had been no prize, for certain, but James had moved on. Andrea, on the other hand, had walled up an entire part of her past to avoid the pain and simply built on top of it.

James sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. This was madness. Why her? Why now? He’d sworn he’d never fall into this trap again. If he were going to have another relationship, it would be with someone quiet and demure, the type of woman who was willing to let him take the initiative in a relationship. The kind who wouldn’t balk if he wanted to buy her gifts, or see strings attached to every gesture. Not an obstinate businesswoman who challenged him on every point.

And what had made him start thinking about a relationship anyway? He wasn’t looking for one. He’d been completely satisfied with his life, the casual acquaintance of pretty women …

Ones who hang on your every word. Ones who are far more interested in your status and wealth than you as a person. And you’ve been happy to exploit the fact.

The thought made him shift uncomfortably in his seat. He’d never thought of himself as shallow. Just … pragmatic.

Or did that make him heartless?

Andrea had been surprised to find he actually took an interest in Kyle. She’d obviously thought the program was founded out of guilt or obligation, not out of a genuine desire to help these teens. And why would she think otherwise? If he’d spent half as much time fund-raising for the program as he spent in the spotlight, he probably could have already expanded beyond London. It wasn’t as if that city had cornered the market on troubled youth with dim prospects.

The thoughts chafed like a badly tailored suit. No wonder Andrea was so reluctant to take things beyond the professional.

The truth is never comfortable, is it?

He exhaled heavily and flexed his hands around the steering wheel. Melancholy served no one. He’d promised to show Andrea a good time in Scotland, and that was what he was going to do.

He navigated toward his favorite seafood restaurant, perched in a row of similar buildings above Portree’s quay. Andrea would enjoy the views and the food. Her staunch determination not to lose her heart to his country was weakening by the hour. He saw it in the delighted smile that crossed her face now and again, the spring in her step when they explored something new. Andrea had Scotland in her blood already, even if she couldn’t yet admit it.

He parked on the street outside the restaurant and sat silently for a minute, watching her sleep. She looked younger and more vulnerable, long eyelashes fanned prettily atop those high cheekbones, her full bowed lips drawn up in the beginnings of a smile. If she dreamed, it was a good dream.

He brushed hair back from her face, allowing his fingers to linger against her cheek. For one mad moment, he imagined waking her with a kiss, but he’d promised he wouldn’t do anything of the sort. Instead, he rubbed her arm lightly. She stirred, but she didn’t wake.

“Andrea,” he whispered. “We’ve arrived.”

Andrea’s eyes fluttered open. She smiled at him before she was fully conscious. Then her expression shifted to a frown, and she sat up straight. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d dozed off.”

“You’ve had a long week. We can go back to the hotel if you’d prefer.”

“No, of course not. Give me a minute to wake up.” She stretched with the sinuous movements of a cat and combed her fingers through her windblown hair. “How bad do I look?”

“You always look beautiful.” The words spilled out before he could consider them, and he rushed on. “Don’t worry, this isn’t an elegant restaurant, but the food is wonderful.”

“I always trust you when it comes to food.”

“You can trust me on more than that, Andrea.” He got out of the car before he could see her reaction.

Chapter Eighteen

Port Righ Seafood could in no way be confused with a fancy restaurant, but when they stepped inside, Andrea was charmed all the same. Wood paneling, old photos, Windsor-style tables and chairs: all contributed to the homey, old-fashioned feel. It reminded her of the seafood restaurants that dotted New England’s harbors, drawing tourists with promises of ocean-fresh chowders.

The hostess, a perky brunette dressed head to toe in black, lit up when they entered. “Jamie MacDonald! I didn’t know you were back!”

“Just for the week. Gail, this is Andrea. Andrea, Gail.”

Andrea maintained her smile as the girl gave her a thorough once-over. She knew the small-town routine well enough. James was a hometown celebrity, and Andrea, being an outsider, was a threat. Gail’s gaze clearly held a challenge. She sighed and followed the woman to a window table that overlooked the harbor. Would they always be subjected to that sort of treatment?

Oh my.
When had she started assuming a relationship between them?

She took the chair James held for her and opened her menu, but her eyes just skimmed it blindly. She pushed it away, unread.

“Surprise me.”

“Feeling adventurous?”

“Always. Just pick a good wine to go with it.”

She stared out the window as James perused the menu, but he didn’t get very far. First the restaurant’s owner came from the back to shake his hand. Then one of the waitresses appeared and crushed him in an embarrassingly showy hug.

“Just a quiet dinner?” Andrea said.

“Sorry.” He grimaced. “Even the people I don’t know know me.”

She struggled to squeeze words from her tight throat. “The life of a celebrity.”

“Life in a small town,” he corrected. “Either I went to school with them, or my dad taught music to them. Sometimes I think he knew every last person on Skye.”

The waitress—a different one—approached to take their order, and James quickly rattled off a list of dishes without looking at the menu. When she left, James extended his hand across the table, palm up. Andrea reluctantly put her hand in his, feeling the prickle of questioning gazes on her back.

“So tell me. What do you want to do tomorrow?”

Andrea forced herself to relax and breathe, though the combination of imagined scrutiny and the movement of his thumb against the back of her hand made it nearly impossible. “I thought you promised me a sunrise jog.”

“Are you sure that’s how you want to spend your holiday? Wouldn’t you rather sleep late?”

“I don’t sleep in,” she said. “It’s a waste of perfectly productive hours.”

“So a jog first. Then a tour of the island?”

“I’d love to see more than just Sleat—”

“Jamie! What a surprise!”

James jerked his head toward the speaker, who was still at least ten feet away, drawing every eye in the restaurant. The woman was petite but curvy, with short blonde hair and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Most people would call her cute, but Andrea thought no woman could more properly be called a cat. She could practically see the claws.

James put on a smile, but it was a canned expression. Andrea knew what genuine warmth from him felt like, and this was downright frigid. “Hello, Bree.”

Bree flashed what she probably meant to be a coy smile. “Jamie, I can’t believe you didn’t let me know you were coming to town. I would have made sure I cleared my calendar.” Her glance barely touched Andrea before it landed back on James.

“Sorry, Bree. I’m only here for a week, and I’ve been busy.” He favored Andrea with a warm smile.

Bree apparently decided she couldn’t ignore Andrea any longer and thrust out a hand. “I’m Bree. Jamie and I are old friends.”

I bet you are.
She shook the woman’s hand. “Andrea.”

“American?” Her eyebrows flew up, and she shifted her attention to James. “Naughty lad. You have been busy.”

Andrea suppressed the urge to smack the woman. She knew Bree’s type all too well, and not for a moment did she believe the woman still had any sort of relationship with James.

When no one responded to the hint, Bree changed tacks. “Are you going to hear Davy’s band on Friday? You know they’re playing in Inverness.”

James glanced at Andrea. “What do you want to do, love? Fancy driving to the city for some music? They’re fantastic.”

“You know I’m up for anything.” Andrea gave him a look that hinted at far more intimacy than they currently enjoyed.

James’s smile broadened. He turned to Bree and said, “Maybe we’ll see you there then.”

Bree’s smile faltered. “Good to see you, Jamie. Nice to meet you, Andrea.”

The woman swished back across the restaurant, drawing as much attention in her departure as she had in her arrival.

James gave Andrea a wicked grin. “Nicely done.”

“Thank you. Old girlfriend?”

“Town gossip, more like.”

“So we’ve just become the latest topic of conversation?”

His hand went out to her again, meant to be reassuring. “Does it bother you that much?”

Andrea didn’t answer, keeping her fingers laced tightly together in her lap. Anything she said would be a half-truth.

“You don’t want anyone to think we’re together.”

She jerked her eyes to his face. He was the most ridiculously confident man she had ever met. Surely he didn’t need her reassurance. “It has nothing to do with you. I’m just not comfortable with everyone looking at me.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t help it. Every eye goes to you the minute you walk into a room.”

Heat rose to her face again. Why couldn’t she manage to control that around him? “That’s not what I mean.”

“Is that why you don’t perform anymore?”

“Yes.” She’d told him practically nothing, but it was more than anyone in her life beside Becky knew.

“We don’t have to go to the concert. There will be a lot of people from Skye, a lot who know me. Davy’s another hometown success story.”

“Do I have to decide now?”

“You can decide whenever you like, as long as you give us three hours to get there.”

Their appetizers arrived, and talk shifted to the safer topic of food. By the time their entrees arrived, she had almost forgotten they were under scrutiny. Once again, James had chosen well: locally caught scallops, shrimp, and sea bass. He wasn’t just taking his tour guide duties seriously. He was equally determined to prove her wrong about the food.

They finished the meal with strong coffee and a pair of rustic fruit tarts, gazing down on the harbor while the sunset turned the cloudy sky pastel shades. Boats bobbed peacefully in the harbor, from the graceful sailboats to the rugged, weathered fishing boats.

“You have officially done the impossible,” she said softly, letting out a contented sigh. “I think I love Skye.”

“I had every confidence in you.”

“Don’t you mean every confidence in yourself?”

“I’m just the driver. You’re the one who needed to relax long enough to see what’s in front of you.”

There went the humor again. Everything he said had a double meaning. “I’m not relaxed enough to kiss you, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Then I still have some work to do.” James signaled their server for the check. “Tell me the truth, though. This is the longest you’ve gone without thinking about work.”

She hid her smile in her coffee cup. “It is. Just don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I can’t. Not when I’ve got you to remind me of my faults.”

Andrea laughed. He was the most annoyingly likeable man she’d ever met. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you like the abuse.”

“Only from you, love.” He paid the check in cash and laid the folder on the table for the server. “Shall we go?”

“Where are we going?” she asked as James helped her on with her coat.

“It’s been a long day. I thought we might go back to the hotel.”

“That’s probably a good idea. I did fall asleep in your car.”

She ignored the eyes on them as they left, though it took supreme force of will to keep her face expressionless. Only when she was safely ensconced in the cocoon-like interior of his car did she manage to breathe easily. She had walked the gauntlet and lived through it.

That implied the day had been a trial, though, and other than her discomfort in the restaurant, it had been the most carefree day she’d experienced in years. “Today was lovely. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He laid his hand, palm up, on the console, and she put her hand in his. “It’s been a long time since I’ve held hands with someone. It’s nice.”

“I can live with nice.”

Andrea watched his face in the dim light and looked down to their clasped hands. “You know, I’m beginning to think you’re a fraud.”

“How so?” Once again, he sounded amused, but he squeezed her hand tighter.

“You talk a good game, but you’re content to hold hands with me all day.”

“Only because you won’t let me do more than that.”

There went the easy, flippant answer. “Why do you do that? Why are you so determined to let everyone think the worst of you?”

He shot her a quick glance before he returned his attention to the road. “How do you know it’s not true?”

“Is it? Do you really just go from one woman to the next?”

“I date a lot, yes.”

“Do you sleep with them all?”

He choked on a cough. “My, you’re direct.”

She could hardly believe her own boldness. It was one thing to banter. It was entirely another to grill him about his romantic history. But she had to know the truth. If this were all just a ploy to get her into bed, she’d put an end to it this minute. “Should I take that as a yes or a no?”

He took a long time to answer, or maybe it just felt that way because she was holding her breath. “I’m no saint, Andrea, but I do have boundaries.”

She exhaled slowly, unwilling to acknowledge how much the answer relieved her. Not that he had answered the question directly, but the implication was clear. “Why then?”

“It was easier.”

“Than what?”

For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to reply. “Than letting everyone see how I really felt after Cassandra and I split.”

“Wait. Ian said you called off the engagement.”

“She’d been having an affair with her costar.” His hand tightened around hers again.

“Does Ian know that? Because—”

James shook his head sharply. “No. And I don’t want him to.”

She frowned, baffled. “Why would you let everyone believe you dumped her if she was the one who was wrong?”

“For one thing, it would have hurt her career. She makes her living playing ingenues.”

“I’d say she brought that on herself,” Andrea muttered.

“For another, the truth made me look like a pathetic dolt who couldn’t guess his fiancée was cheating on him.” His smile was closer to a grimace than true amusement. “As it was, I couldn’t go anyplace without cameras in my face. You can’t imagine what that’s like.”

Andrea gritted her teeth against the rush of memories. She could still see the flashbulbs when she closed her eyes, remember the shouted questions, the jostling of reporters and photographers around her. She squeezed her eyes shut, her breath catching in her throat. She tried to untangle her hand from James’s, but he held her firm.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” A note of concern crept into his voice. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Of course not. I’m fine.”

“You said that before, and it was a lie both times.” His touch had been gentle before, but now it was like iron, unyielding, holding her hand fast.

She hadn’t noticed the twilight fading to full night, but now the headlights swept the parking lot of the hotel as he pulled up in front of the cottages. He killed the engine and lights and let the silence lapse. When she didn’t say anything else, he dropped her hand with a sigh and opened his door.

Andrea climbed out and shivered in the cold while he retrieved her packages from the trunk, relieved he wasn’t going to press the issue further. He followed her silently to her door, then unlocked it with his key and placed her bags inside. Before she could step through, he pulled the door closed, trapping her between his body and the wooden slab. She jerked to a halt before she could slam into it and spun around.

“What are you doing?” she blurted.

He put one hand on her waist and braced the other by her head. Even though he only held her loosely, she felt the shock through her body as surely as if he’d crushed her to him. He bent his head and murmured in her ear, “Something is bothering you. I’m considering the best way to make you forget it.”

His warm breath raised chills along her skin, even though his hand still barely touched her waist. A shudder of longing ran through her. “You promised.”

“I did. Unless you want to change your mind.”

“You’re still my client.”

“I think we’ve gone far beyond a business relationship, don’t you? Kiss me.”

“No.” The word didn’t sound convincing, especially considering her breathing had gone alarmingly uneven.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, drawing her closer. She could do nothing but stare up at him, her voice caught in her throat, her heart hammering in anticipation. His gaze caressed her face and lingered on her lips, building the ache inside her to an almost unbearable level.

Then he smiled and stepped back, releasing her so quickly she almost stumbled. “I always keep my promises, Andrea.” He strode back toward the car, but halfway there, he turned back. “Jogging in the morning?”

“What?” Andrea struggled to regain her composure, blinking while her mind shifted gears. “Oh, right, jogging. Yes, I’ll be ready.”

He gave her that dazzling grin and pulled the car door open. “I’ll be up at the house for a while if you need me. Number’s on your desk. Sleep well.”

Not likely. She sagged against the door for support while the car reversed out of the parking spot and turned back up the drive. With her knees this weak, she couldn’t even take comfort in the fact she hadn’t allowed him to kiss her. For a moment, she’d been so sure …

She let out a groan. He’d played her again. He’d never meant to kiss her, but he had accomplished exactly what he intended. She no longer remembered her misgivings from the car.