Anything Roan might have said to that was lost when several of the villagers went up to Graham and started to excitedly discuss the wedding plans—in minute, excruciating, but ever-so-enthusiastic detail. Roan folded his arms and leaned against the wall again, taking pleasure in watching Graham’s knowing smile freeze into something passably congenial as he did his best to nod and agree and look like he was truly interested … all the while making the escape to his vehicle as fast as humanly possible.
Roan had no doubt that his childhood friend was reel to sinker hooked by his bride-to-be. The two were like besotted love birds when they got within so much as viewing distance of one another. It was enough to make a single lad choke. With envy. No one was more anxious to get to his wedding day than Graham. But Roan also knew from listening to his friend vent over ales and darts, that as happy as he was to see everyone else fall as swiftly in love with Katie as he had, he could live quite happily for the rest of his days without another soul mentioning tea roses and tatted lace to him ever again.
Smiling to himself, Roan followed behind at a decent pace. Most everyone had gone. More of them than not would likely head down to Angus’s for an ale and some gossip, second only to a game of darts as the most popular pastime on the island. He thought that sounded like a good end to a bad day, until he realized that he’d likely be the focus of a large portion of that gossip. Perhaps he’d head into the office instead, get a little work done without Eliza or anyone else sticking their noses in and about.
The sound of a slamming boot brought his head up. He’d been so lost in thought, he hadn’t been paying attention to the fact that Kira’s Fiat was still on the side of the road—which meant Tessa hadn’t left yet.
Brilliant.
His lorry was beyond her car, on the opposite side of the single track lane, so he could hardly ignore her. He found himself thinking that a nice conversation about tatted lace sounded pretty good at the moment and wished he’d kept up with Graham. He nodded, forcing a smile and hoping to ease on by without further incident.
“Tessa! Roan!”
They turned to see Katie ducking around another departing car, waving and smiling at them.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tessa’s shoulders slump a little. The fact that he felt the exact same way didn’t endear her to him. He adored Katie, but wished she’d caught up with him after Tessa had departed.
“Katie,” Roan responded with a ready grin. “Ye’ve missed the show entirely—for which I’m eternally grateful—unless of course, witnessing my manly display would have furthered my suit with you. In which case, we can probably set up something a bit more intimate later on.” He glanced at Tessa. “Have no fear, I won’t be requiring your services.”
“For which I’m eternally grateful,” she said, eyeing the two of them.
Katie punched Roan in the shoulder, which was the expected and now traditional response to all of his teasing and flirting. Rubbing his shoulder, he accepted her follow-up hug and adopted European mode of kissing him on both cheeks, which always amused and charmed him. That was the effect Katie had on everyone.
She turned to Tessa and grinned. “Feel free to ignore him when he’s like that, or just punch him.”
“Does it help? The punching? I’ve tried ignoring.”
“If you mean will it make him stop, no. But it does make you feel better.”
Roan watched the exchange, not entirely sure whether Tessa was being droll, or completely lacking in humor. If it wasn’t for her dazzling display toward the end of their photo shoot, he’d have insisted to anyone who asked that it was the latter.
Katie stuck her hand out. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Katie McAuley, Graham MacLeod’s fiancée and therefore the source of a great deal of what I’m sure is very annoying wedding minutiae you could well live without. For that I apologize. I’m also a very distant cousin to this guy.” She elbowed Roan in the ribs and he tugged at one of her blond curls. “I apologize for that, too. Frequently.”
Roan watched Tessa take in their byplay, and though there might have been a flicker in her eyes, her expression remained smooth. “Completely understandable.” She took Katie’s hand in a short, but not impolite handshake. “Tessa Vandergriff.”
“I understand you’re Kira’s friend,” Katie went on, with her infectious smile still wide and natural, despite Tessa’s less than effusive reaction. “I can’t tell you how much it’s meant to us all that you were willing to step up and help us out. You came here for a vacation, to catch up with an old friend; the last thing you needed was to get pressed into service. Not to mention I realize getting you to take photographs for a hunk of the month calendar is on par with asking a surgeon if he can help with a paper cut. Overkill!”
She laughed, which made Roan grin, because it was impossible not to when you were around her.
Unless, apparently, you were Tessa Vandergriff. “That’s okay. I don’t mind helping out Kira, and by extension, all of you.” A polite smile made a brief appearance. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to get back to her croft and look into setting up something to get these developed.” She patted the single camera bag she had slung over her shoulder.
“It’s no’ digital?” Roan asked, then immediately wanted to kick himself. Why on earth would he want to prolong the conversation?
“Oh, I have plenty of those as well, but occasionally I like working with film. I like having my hands in the process—it makes me feel more connected to the work. You think differently when what you get is what you get. Digital is wonderful, but in some ways it’s too easily transformed. Film is true.”
It was the most animated he’d seen her since their introduction at his office earlier that morning. If he didn’t know better already, he’d think she was actually human. Rather than, say … Borg.
She also seemed to realize the aberration in demeanor, and cut herself off with a quick, tight smile. “I’m sure you don’t really care about all of that. I’ll leave you two, to … whatever your business is.”
“Please extend my thanks to Kira as well,” Katie said, stepping back so that Tessa could open the door to the little red two-seater that had seen better days. Years, actually.
“I will,” Tessa said, making one last effort at curving her lips upward, then closed the door.
Roan lifted a hand in a silent salute good-bye. He wasn’t sure what to make of her, all commanding and bossy on one hand, but kind of socially awkward on the other. Quickly he reminded himself that figuring it out wasn’t any of his concern.
As Tessa turned the key and started the engine, she looked through the windshield at him. Straight at him.
He got all caught up in her turquoise eyes. They were so intense, and he heard again the echo of quiet passion with which she’d spoken about her work. It was clear that while she might not love taking pictures of half-naked Scotsmen, she did have a love for photography itself. He hadn’t had any chance to look into her credentials after Eliza had introduced her and announced she’d be taking the photos for the contest. He’d figured it didn’t really matter. The amount of gear she traveled with alone was testament to the fact that she was no amateur.
He found himself wondering …
She abruptly broke their gaze and looked over her shoulder so she could back onto the road. Turning the car in a tight U she headed off down the road without a backward glance.
Roan and Katie turned and watched, Katie framing her eyes with a hand on her forehead.
“And so delightful, too,” he said calmly.
She glanced at Roan, and smiled. “What did you do to piss her off?”
He gaped and plastered his free hand over his heart. “Me? I’m fairly certain she was dropped from the womb that way.”
“Roan,” Katie chided, though there was still a decided twinkle in her eye. “Maybe she was just having a bad day.”
That was what he loved about Katie McAuley. Aside from the fact that she made his best friend a happier, more well-ro
unded human being, she’d also proven the perfect partner in crime for Roan. Unlike the scientific-minded Graham and the natural-born mediator, Shay, she was of sunny disposition, like himself, and also had a rather droll view of life. She didn’t share that side with everyone, but seemed to have found a kindred spirit in him.
He’d initially been quite taken with her. Even though he’d never have acted on the attraction, they had quickly moved on to form a kind of familial bond that he’d come to cherish. He’d grown up with Graham and Shay as his ready and steady mates, so he’d never felt a lack of friendship or kinship, but it was a new and different thing, having what amounted to a sister in his life.
“You don’t get that kind of attitude from having a single bad day,” he said.
Katie watched the Fiat disappear into the distance. “Well, given what she does for a living, I’d guess she’s seen a whole lot of bad days, so maybe we shouldn’t be so judgmental. I know I couldn’t do what she does. It was nice of her to help us out.” Before he could follow up on that comment, she turned and checked out his garbed form, wiggling her eyebrows. “My, what a big … sword you have.”
He wiggled his right back. “That’s what they all say, luv.” They laughed and he quite willingly let his curiosity about Tessa die an unexplored death as he turned his attention to more pleasant matters. He slung a casual arm over Katie’s much narrower shoulders as they walked across the track to his lorry. “Did you see Graham just now as you arrived?”
“I saved him from death by wedding details, yes. He’ll owe me for that, later,” she added wryly. “But I came by because I wanted to tell you that I have the mock-up of the new home page done for the site, with the details about the calendar, and I wanted to know if you’d like to give it a look.”
Katie’s background had been in management for her family’s ship-and-yacht-building empire, but her heart was in marketing and graphic design. She had quickly found a niche on Kinloch as his much needed creative consultant. She had already contributed several fresh ideas to the promotion he did for the island economy, which centered on the artisan baskets that were woven exclusively on Kinloch and sold worldwide.
“Pretty confident. We haven’t even developed the photos as yet,” he said with a laugh, while also trying not to cringe at the thought that he was the featured attraction of at least some of them. Surely the other blokes on the island who had already posed for Tessa would provide plenty of shots for her to work with. “We’re a long way from advertising the thing. We need to win a spot in it first.”
She just smiled up at him. “I’m a believer. I’ve looked back at everything you’ve done here. In the past five years your accomplishments in getting the baskets to a more global market have been nothing short of incredible, given the limited set of tools you have to work with. When you set your mind to something, you get results. I know folks are grateful, but I don’t think everyone realizes just how much you do, because you don’t toot your own horn.”
“Well, I’d love nothing more than toot my horn, but word is you’re already taken.”
She just rolled her eyes.
“But that’s okay. I’ve accepted my singular future. I’m thinking of getting a few cats, actually,” he went on, adopting a rather pious expression, “and looking onward to a life dedicated to the service of others.”
“Give me a break. If Kira would so much as blink in your direction, you’d be happily servicing your own needs with her a heartbeat later.”
He was used to her ribald comebacks by now, but he’d rarely been the source of one, so he choked a little. First Graham, now her. “I dinnae ken where ye got that idea,” he said, even though he knew she was too keenly observant not to see right through his protestations. “I’ll die a monk, writing sonnets to your ethereal beauty, and pine for the perfect love that I can only observe, but am destined never to have for my own.”
“I dinnae know how ‘tis that the lovely villagers of Kinloch put up with yer multitudinous mountains of crap.” She laughed, her accent dead on despite her brief tenure on the island. “But I certainly won’t. So ask her out already. Sheesh. It’s pathetic watching a grown man pine for no good reason.”
“I pine only for you.”
She had the most feminine snort. “Who did you use as your front woman before I came along? Seriously, Roan, I don’t know what you’re waiting for. She’s not attached and—”
“And presently letting Morgan le Fay live under the same roof with her.” He gave a shudder that wasn’t entirely feigned. “No thanks. I’ll wait until Tessa’s taken her leave.”
“Aha! So you admit it then. Well, that’s a start.” She patted him on the arm. “But I know you, you’ll only find some other excuse entirely. You don’t strike me as a chicken, Roan, so seriously, man up.”
“I’m no’ a chicken, as you put it. And my manhood isn’t in question.” He waggled his brows. “You’ve seen my sword?” He lifted it, then stowed it in the back of the lorry when she merely shook her head and gave him a sad, pitying look.
“Don’t think you’re going to charm me into forgetting this conversation,” she warned, unwittingly echoing the same dire warning as issued by her fiancé earlier. “I’m on to you, Roan McAuley. You run around this island, being roguishly adorable and making everyone else feel good about themselves. It’s about time you got some of that love back.”
He shot her an affronted look. “I’ll have you know I’m beloved by all here. Treated like a veritable prince. What more could a man ask than the admiration and love of his people?”
“A warm bed and an open heart,” she said, quite a bit more sincerely than he’d have anticipated. “One that’s accepting of yours.”
He didn’t have a quick rejoinder for that.
“You have so much to give the right person,” she went on as they trundled toward town. “And she’s right here, all but on your doorstep. What is it that’s holding you back?”
His smile faded a bit. “It’s a complex tale, Katie.”
“It couldn’t be. You’re a man. And therefore too one dimensional for complexity.”
He barked a laugh, though a quick glance at her proved that while she was willing to keep things light, she was far from letting it go.
“Speaking of our one-dimensional capacity,” he said, changing the subject back to work, “what integrity-challenging marketing campaign has that wickedly brilliant brain of yours devised? Despite what you think, we men like to think we’re more than just the sum of our manly parts. We’re sensitive blokes, you know, with fragile egos. We need them stroked.” He glanced at her and grinned. “And stroked often.”
“Oh, brother.”
“Roguishly adorable, I believe you said.”
“And already regretting it.”
They laughed together as he drove the rest of the way into town, but his thoughts remained partly on his conflicted feelings for Kira … and far more annoying, his apparent inability to stop thinking about her temperamental houseguest.
Chapter 2
“Well, doesn’t that just bite.” With a disgusted snort, Tessa clipped up the final series of shots on the cotton cord she’d strung inside Kira’s narrow pantry, which temporarily doubled as her dark room. It was cramped and the juryrigged lighting sucked, but she’d operated in far, far worse conditions. “Figures.”
She wasn’t surprised. Not really. She’d known exactly what she was getting when she’d started running the shutter. She’d just hoped that maybe, for the first time, her illustrious eye for things might have failed her.
So much for that.
With the last of the film processed, she needed to clean up so Kira could have her pantry back before breakfast. But she couldn’t seem to stop staring at the last half dozen shots she’d taken.
She could tell herself she was interested in the integrity of the shot, the point of view she’d chosen, and how the angle allowed the sun to perfectly filter the light across the tops of the mountains and spill down ove
r the fortress tucked between the peaks. She had an affinity for capturing the natural beauty of any landscape in her scope of vision, and had done it for so long it was second nature to her.
Of course, what had always drawn her was the juxtaposition of the staggering splendor of nature’s bounty … contrary to the horrifying atrocities committed by man.
She closed her eyes briefly against any threat of invading visuals, then opened them once more to look at the subject of the photos in front of her. There was nothing remotely horrifying or atrocious about their human subject. In fact, she could argue that his natural beauty almost eclipsed that of the stunning backdrop.
He wasn’t ruggedly hewn like their island leader, Graham, whom she thought of as Paul Bunyan in plaid. Roan was tall, as well, but where Graham was linebacker big with a square jaw, Roan was rangy and lean, broad of shoulder, lean of hip, his muscles perfectly and tightly defined, and his skin surprisingly golden, which only leant a gleaming, gladiator feel to the whole image. Unruly, sun-bleached brown hair shagged around his head in wayward curls, looking as if he did nothing more than rake a hand through it now and again. There was a shadow of stubble on his cheek, but she sensed it was more a result of the afternoon hour than through any deliberate design. In fact, she doubted he gave his appearance much thought. Mostly because he didn’t have to.
He was roguish and charming, with a devilish glint of mischief in his green eyes and a deeply grooved dimple that winked often given his penchant for grinning. She was quite certain he was well used to incorporating all of that to further his own agenda whenever it suited him. Probably because it had netted him an alarmingly high, ego-inflating ratio of success.
She had no patience with people like that.
She knew her own unusual looks and her taller-than-average height set her apart from the crowd, but she’d spent a lifetime playing them down to get what she wanted, and where she wanted to go. She took a lot of pride in the fact that her work spoke for her. And only her work. No one could argue that she’d earned her way to her current pinnacle of success by employing any asset other than her pure, unmitigated talent behind a camera.
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