“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 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.
Unfortunately there was another whole set in their place.
Chapter Nineteen
James scrubbed a hand through his hair as he drove up the dark road toward the family house. He’d intended to tease—or maybe shock—Andrea from her sudden panic. He had just overestimated his own self-control when it came to her, or maybe he’d underestimated the sheer force of the attraction that crackled between them. His words about keeping his promises had been as much a reminder for him as for her.
The more he learned about her, the harder it was to stick to the surface-level flirtation he had intended. She was like no other woman he’d met: sharp, driven, successful. He’d genuinely enjoyed every moment he’d spent in her company. Every once in a while, he got a sense of how wicked her sense of humor could be if she’d just let it loose.
He smiled again at how she’d handled Bree. Some women would have instantly gone on the defensive, but Andrea had just watched her like one would view a child with a tendency to exaggerate. Her sultry tone and private look had shut down the nosy woman altogether. He admired a woman who kept her composure.
He’d shattered that composure tonight, no doubt about it. It wasn’t just professional considerations that kept her from acting on her feelings, though. Each detail she revealed hinted at some terrible hurt in her past, and they all had to be wrapped up together. He’d be willing to bet Logan had been some sort of celebrity, someone in the public eye. Did he have something to do with the end of her promising performance career? Was he the reason she harbored a phobia about public scrutiny?
James realized he’d been idling in his aunt’s driveway for several minutes and shut the car off. He shouldn’t have come here. Serena would take one look at his face and know exactly what he was thinking. At least Ian’s car was missing, or he would have turned around straightaway. His sister’s teasing was one thing. His brother’s disapproval was quite another.
James let himself into the house. Light flickered from the television, illuminating the living room in staccato bursts. Serena lay curled up beneath a blanket on the sofa, watching some Scottish drama.
“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 lo
w-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 surrender it. “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 companions with an air of amusement, almost as if it were a game to guess who he’d been seen with that 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 onstage, 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 seriously his promise not to kiss her, 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 flashes of cameras.
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 on to a series of armstands 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 backs 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-sleeve 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 m
ottled gray, and now pink and orange colored the clouds. 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, 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?
Five Days in Skye Page 16