Shame washed over her. Once again, she had automatically attributed to him the most selfish motive. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.”
“It’s fine.” He squeezed her hand against his side. “It’s a tough situation. I feel bad for Kyle. He’s trying to do right, but it’s not so easy to escape your past mistakes.”
If anyone understood the truth of that statement, it was Andrea. Yet here she was, tempted to repeat them. She was unspeakably foolish for even contemplating any sort of personal acquaintance with him.
The thought sat like a weight in the pit of her stomach. She followed him numbly down the side street where they had parked. He put her packages in the trunk, and she climbed into the passenger seat.
She didn’t look at him. “We should talk about what just happened.”
“What did just happen?”
Blast the man. He was going to make her say it. “We kissed.”
“I don’t know what the American definition is, but that was not a kiss. Almost a kiss? Barely a kiss—”
“Fine. Enough. I’ve got it.” Andrea forgot her determination not to meet his eye and glanced at him. His serious expression was gone, and now he looked thoroughly entertained by the conversation. “We almost kissed, then. It can’t happen again. You’re my client.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Do you know how hard it is to be a woman in this business? I work twice as hard as my male colleagues, and they still say I’m only successful because I use my looks to get ahead. Do you think there haven’t been rumors I’ve slept with clients?”
Her voice trembled, and she reined in her emotions before angry tears could follow. She never cried. She wasn’t going to start now.
“Is that what this is about?” He reached out and gently turned her face toward him. Despite her determination to keep their relationship strictly professional, his touch still sent a tingle through her.
“Andrea, I promise you, I never meant to imply I expected anything but your professional expertise in return for signing this contract.”
“Then why are you so determined to make me stay?”
He dropped his hand from her cheek and instead gripped the steering wheel in front of him. “A few years ago, I was like you. Consumed with work. Obsessed with building the business. My father and I had been talking about renovating the hotel for years, opening a dining room there. I was too busy to leave London.
“And then it was too late. He died of cancer. I didn’t even know he was ill. He didn’t want to burden me.” His throat worked, and his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.
“So that’s why Skye. For him.”
He nodded. “It’s easy to say you’ll make time for what’s important tomorrow. But we’re only guaranteed this particular moment. Life’s too short to rush through it.” He started the car and pulled away from the curb without looking at her.
Andrea fingered the edge of the scarf, conflicted to the core. Her sensible side told her to maintain her distance. She had worked too hard for too long to make this life for herself, to leave her past behind. She couldn’t let some random stranger shake up everything for which she had worked.
Yet, the smaller and no less insistent part of her said James was not random; this was not just another man who wanted her simply as a way to pass the time. That three days was not too short to feel the stirrings of an emotion she had buried long ago. She had promised herself she would never again leave herself vulnerable to the kind of pain she had experienced with Logan.
Neither of them spoke as he rejoined the road leading out of Fort William. Andrea stared blindly out the window, twisting the scarf’s fringe around her fingers.
James cleared his throat. “It’s a couple hours back to Skye. We could stop at Eilean Donan on the way. And then I thought we might have supper in Portree.”
“Whatever you think.”
“Would it help if I promised not to kiss you?”
Andrea jerked her gaze to his face. “Yes.”
“Okay. I promise. But that means you’re going to have to kiss me.”
He was deliberately provoking her now. “I won’t.”
“You realize I’m going to take that as a challenge, don’t you?”
“You take—”
“Yes, I believe you’ve already told me that once.”
She scowled at him. “Have I told you you’re insufferable?”
He chuckled, unperturbed by her tone, and she struggled to hold on to her irritation. It was too hard to maintain her distance when she acknowledged the connection she was beginning to feel with him. Yes, he could be egotistical and annoying. He was far too aware of the effect he had on women. But he also cared about people. His students, his family. It was difficult not to want to step inside that affectionate circle as if she belonged there.
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.
Five Days in Skye: A Novel Page 14