“Emmy and Max in bed?” he asked, shrugging out of his jacket.
“Just.” Serena leaned over and clicked on the lamp. “Did you have a good time?”
A smile crept onto his face. “It was nice.”
“I know that look.” Serena was smiling too. “I’d say it means you got a good-night kiss.”
“No, I promised her I wouldn’t kiss her.”
“Why on earth would you do that?”
“I’m wondering the same thing myself.” He sank down on the sofa and propped his feet on the coffee table. “I just don’t want her to feel forced. I want her to make a conscious decision, not just get wrapped up in the moment.” Though he wasn’t above helping that decision along a bit.
“My brother is growing a conscience?”
“Don’t say that. You make me sound like some awful lothario.”
“No, I know you’re not. But Jamie … you break hearts without meaning to. You always have. You stick around until things get too serious, and then you’re gone, on to the next one. Look at Bree. You dated, what, ten years ago? She’s still carrying a flame for you, if you didn’t know.”
“Oh, I’m aware of that. We ran into her tonight at the restaurant.”
Serena grimaced. “How’d Andrea take it?”
“She was brilliant. Shut Bree down without ever losing her smile.”
“I can see why you like her then,” Serena said with a chuckle. “I’ve been wanting to take Bree down a peg for years.”
“Andrea’s different,” James said slowly. “She’s strong and independent, polished … and yet completely fragile. I’m afraid if I move too fast, she’ll shatter.”
“Doesn’t seem to me like you have a lot of time. Saturday’s coming quickly.” Serena twisted the blanket pensively. “Could you love her, do you think?”
“It’s a bit early to be throwing that word around, isn’t it?”
“Not necessarily. Could you? Given time?”
“You mean the time we don’t have?” He arched an eyebrow, but his sister knew his diversionary tactics too well to be fooled. “Maybe.”
Serena gave him a reproachful look, and he held up his hands.
“What do you want me to say? I’m not pledging my undying devotion to a woman I’ve known for three days. But could I see this turning into something more? Yeah. I could.”
Serena was silent for a long stretch, and he sensed he wouldn’t like what she was going to say next.
“What does she believe in, Jamie? Do you even know?”
“She wears a cross. She doesn’t flinch when I mention spiritual things, but she’s not all that comfortable with discussing it. I think she’s had some bad experiences.”
Serena patted his shoulder, the picture of the older and wiser sister, even though she only had two years on him. “Find out before you lose any more of your heart to this woman. You of all people know what happens when a relationship isn’t based on compatible values.” She rose from the sofa and tossed him her blanket. “There’s some shortbread in the kitchen if you want it.”
“I do. Your shortbread is the best.”
“It’s the only chance I ever get to show you up in the kitchen. I seize it when I can. ’Night, Jamie.”
James turned off the television and stared at the blank screen. His sister was right. He had been avoiding this question, but he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He needed to be sure he wanted to pursue this, because Andrea tightened her grip on him with each passing day.
He only lingered long enough to grab two of Serena’s biscuits. Then he traded the Audi for the Subaru and drove back to the hotel. His heart plummeted when he saw Ian’s vintage roadster parked out front of his cottage. Perfect timing. He pulled in beside it, turned off the ignition, and yanked the keys out more roughly than necessary.
Ian popped open his door and unfolded himself from the low-slung sports car. He looked as polished as always, even in trousers and a polo shirt, his wavy hair cropped into submission. Always professional. Always in control.
James didn’t look at him as he flipped through his key ring. “What do you want?”
Ian held up a large envelope. “Delivering Andrea’s contract for you to sign. Can I come in?”
“I don’t see why. I’ll take it now.” James held out his hand, but Ian made no move to hand it over. “Fine. Suit yourself.”
James left the door open, not looking to see if Ian followed. He tossed his jacket onto the bed and placed his keys and wallet in their usual place on the nightstand. The door clicked closed, the only indication his brother had followed.
“Where’s Andrea?”
“I would assume she’s in her cottage where I left her.” James crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his brother. “Why the sudden interest?”
Ian placed the envelope on the table and pulled out a chair for himself. “No need to get defensive. I was just asking.”
“I can’t imagine why I would get defensive. You talked to her about me? What happened to keeping business and personal lives separate?”
“She deserved to know.” Ian looked at him, his expression almost sorrowful. “She’s a nice woman. I thought she should be on her guard.”
Anger and humiliation tumbled around in his head. His brother thought so little of him that he thought he needed to warn Andrea? No wonder she had seemed so surprised when he admitted his reputation was mostly undeserved.
Then he sighed. Ian would never change. There wasn’t any point in trying. “I guess she didn’t listen. She decided to stay the week.”
“Serena told me.”
“So that’s the reason for this visit? Come to give me some brotherly advice? I think I can manage well enough on my own.”
Ian toyed with the edge of the envelope. “You know, you might think of someone other than yourself for once. Your behavior doesn’t just reflect on you, it reflects on all of us. Your family, the company, the charity.”
“What would you know about my behavior? When have you ever actually asked me anything? You’d rather accuse than learn the truth.”
“Fine, I’ll ask. Have you slept with her?”
He meant Andrea. The question made James feel nauseous. “Get out.”
Ian rose and placed the envelope on the table, its bottom lined up neatly with the table’s edge. “She’s too good for you, Jamie. If you had any sort of conscience, you’d let her go.”
The words struck him squarely in the chest, and his reply spilled from his mouth before he had time to think about it. “Like you let Grace go?”
Ian blanched, a sure sign James’s aim had been true. “We’re not talking about Grace.”
“No, but we should be. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? The woman you loved left you, and now you can’t stand to see me happy. Maybe you’re content pining over someone who’s never coming back, but I’m moving on with my life.”
Ian’s throat worked convulsively, and a muscle in his jaw pulsed. He pushed his chair back under the table, his movements measured, controlled. He spoke to the floor. “I have never once intentionally hurt you, Jamie.”
Ian strode to the door and let himself out, clicking it shut quietly behind him.
James stared at the exit until he heard the rumble of the engine and saw headlights arc across his windows. Then he sank into the chair Ian had just vacated, regret squeezing the air from his lungs.
Ian was right. Misguided as he might be, he really believed he was doing James a favor. But James had purposely gone for the jugular, struck the place he knew was most tender. No matter how angry Ian made him, he didn’t deserve that.
James slumped back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. Was that how everyone saw him? Cruel? Lecherous? Untrustworthy? He saw the photos in the tabloids and the society pages, of course. Most reported the names of his compani
ons with an air of amusement, almost as if it were a game to guess who he’d been seen with this week. The women didn’t mind. They were all struggling actresses or singers or dancers, glad for the publicity, even more appreciative of a nice evening out with a man who kept his hands to himself. He flirted, he teased, occasionally he kissed, but it went no further than that.
Oh, he knew what people assumed. They would assume those things without his help. After all, why wouldn’t a man take the opportunities seemingly presented to him?
Was that how Andrea saw him too?
James closed his eyes. It had only taken the merest mention of her to send fury boiling up. It was one thing for people to speak ill of him. It was another for them to make assumptions about her.
Like they made assumptions about the long string of women he had dated in London.
He groaned. He’d been a selfish git. How had it never occurred to him to think how his reputation reflected on them? No wonder Ian was so angry with him. It hardly mattered that he was doing nothing wrong if everyone thought otherwise. He’d been so focused on avoiding the speculation over his split with Cassandra, he’d never really considered how the alternative looked.
Or maybe he had, but until he met Andrea, he just hadn’t cared.
She wasn’t like those girls, making her living on stage, accustomed to gossip. She was a businesswoman who desperately wanted to stay out of the public eye. She’d already told him she thought he was a self-indulgent playboy. She would be crazy to give him a chance.
He could say he didn’t care what she thought, but now he recognized it as a blatant lie.
Chapter Twenty
Andrea slept restlessly, tossing beneath the fluffy down duvet until the sky outside began to lighten. Sleep had eluded her for a long while the night before. She should have been pleased James had taken his promise not to kiss her seriously, but instead she’d spent the evening frustrated by the fact he was a man of his word. When sleep finally came, it was plagued by troubling dreams of James and Logan and the blinding pop of flashbulbs.
She threw off the covers and climbed out of bed. She dug out her jogging clothes and slipped them on, then pushed the table back to clear a spot large enough to stretch. She didn’t have a sticky mat, so bare hands and feet on the wooden floor would have to do for traction.
“Focus,” she told herself aloud, as she bent double and exhaled her worries out in one long breath.
Andrea had already worked her way through thirty minutes of sun salutations and moved onto a series of arm stands by the time James knocked on her door. She struggled to hold her balance in crow pose for a few more seconds, her legs off the ground, knees braced against the back of her arms, while he rapped on the door.
“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!”
A startled laugh popped from her mouth, and she collapsed into a graceless heap on the floor. She clambered to her feet and yanked open the door. “I thought you’d never get here.”
“Pardon me for thinking you might want to sleep a bit longer.” James made a face, but his eyes still twinkled. He seemed perpetually amused by her. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.
“I told you I don’t sleep in.” She lifted her hair from where it already stuck damply to her neck. “I like to loosen up with some yoga before I jog.”
She opened the door wide to admit him and went off in search of her running shoes. She perched on the arm of a chair while she pulled them on, surreptitiously watching him as he paced her kitchenette. She had opted to cover every last bit of skin in microfiber running pants and a lightweight shell, but he wore a pair of loose athletic shorts and a snug, long-sleeved T-shirt that showed off his muscular build to fine advantage.
“Aren’t you going to freeze?” She nodded toward his outfit while she pulled on a fleece ear warmer.
“I’m used to it.” He gestured to the door. “After you.”
She let him set the pace, a brisk walk up the gravel drive, then followed him into a jog once they hit the cracked pavement. The morning sky had already started to shift from its mottled gray, and now pink and orange streaked the lightly clouded sky. Birds sang in the brush and one occasionally swooped down toward the water. The quiet filled her, broken only by the soft scuff of rubber soles on the pavement and the faint sound of their breathing.
She noticed he was holding back to accommodate her shorter stride, so she pushed the pace a little faster.
“Competitive, are we?”
“It has nothing to do with competition.” Her voice sounded a little breathless now. “I’m still working off last night’s dinner.”
“Trust me, I understand. I have to jog now and then too.”
“Jogging a few miles every day doesn’t give you that body.”
He raised his eyebrows, looking far too pleased by the compliment. “Thanks for noticing.”
Warmth flooded her cheeks, and she prayed it could be passed off as exertion. She shouldn’t have been so frank with her admiration. “You’re welcome. Now either speed up, or stop checking out my butt. You’re making me uncomfortable.”
“I am doing nothing of the sort,” he protested, but he chuckled and let the distance lapse between them before he caught up. “Left onto that little trail up ahead. You see it?”
“I see it.” She turned off the pavement onto a hard-packed dirt path, little clouds of dust puffing up behind her. A thick carpet of grass dotted with spring wildflowers spread over the low hillside, craggy rocks jutting up through the earth. The grade was gradual, but still steep, and Andrea’s breath came more heavily as they wound their way up toward the top of the hill. She slowed to a walk, and then clambered up a fall of loose rock. When she reached the top, a smile broke over her face.
The entire Sound of Sleat spread out in front of them, a wide expanse of blue. Gentle waves lapped at the rocky beach below, creating lacy ripples of white froth against the dark sand. Across, she could see the mountainous edge of the Scottish mainland. The sun had finally risen, and now the sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. Had she ever seen anything so breathtaking? At that moment, she no longer cared that she was missing out on Tahiti’s white sand beaches.
James watched her for a while, then said, “Come, sit and rest for a minute.”
She dragged her gaze away and climbed onto the boulder next to him. The stirring in her chest when she looked out on the landscape was an altogether unfamiliar yearning. Somehow, it felt as dangerous as her attraction to the man who sat beside her, as if letting the peace of Skye seep into her would only set her up for disappointment.
“My father used to say that God created Skye during the first six days so he’d have someplace to come rest on the seventh,” James said.
“That’s blasphemous.”
“I’m sure the minister thought so, but my father’s relationship with the church was as uneasy as mine. Still, he had the strongest faith of any person I’ve ever known. I didn’t always appreciate that, but I do now.”
Andrea glanced at him. This wasn’t the way she’d imagined the conversation turning. She had been raised in the church, but too much had happened to believe there was some divine plan at work. “You’re the last person I expected to start talking about God.”
“It’s not exactly something I publicize. I’d never have gotten anyplace in this business if I made a point of it. It’s not like America. Ian was always afraid he’d lose his job at the law firm if anyone learned he was a Christian.”
“It’s not that different back home, at least not in New York. Saying you’re a Christian is like saying you’re from Pluto. Everyone thinks you must be crazy.”
“Is that what happened to you? Too much outside pressure?” His tone was gentle, genuinely curious.
“No, I just …” Andrea swallowed and looked across to the mountains on the mainland. She avoided the topic when she coul
d, even though Becky still pushed. Her sister was one of the few people who knew the reason behind Andrea’s crisis of faith. She might be the only one still holding out hope she would come back around. “Christians like to talk about love and forgiveness, but they’re no better than anyone else. They’d sooner judge you than accept you. I’d rather be a heathen than a hypocrite.”
“If you believe that, why do you still wear this?” James reached over and touched the cross dangling from the gold chain around her neck.
“It was my mom’s.”
“A woman of faith?”
“You could say that. She taught Sunday school the whole time we were growing up. Took us to church even though my dad wouldn’t go. She hadn’t had the easiest life by the time we came along, but she never gave up. She thanked God even for the bad things in her life. I don’t know, maybe I’m just hoping there are others out there like her. Maybe someone will come along and prove me wrong.”
“It reminds you to persevere.”
The words startled her. “Yes. It reminds me to keep moving, to get through another day.”
“Life isn’t just supposed to be about getting through another day,” James said softly. “I used to think if I could only just finish the next project or accomplish the next task, then I could slow down and enjoy myself. Not that I didn’t love what I was doing, I just wasn’t …”
“Present?”
He nodded, his gaze distant, lost over the water. “Now I think, if this was my last day on earth, was it a worthwhile way to spend it?”
Andrea hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them, viewing him sideways. “And is it?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think it was. Maybe I should ask you that question.”
“I think so.” She had to tear the admission free, but once she did, a weight lifted from her. The way James watched her, his expression warm and open, made all her resolutions shudder. It was a completely different sensation than the heat that sizzled between them the night before, but it was no less powerful.
Five Days in Skye: A Novel Page 16