My Scottish Summer

by Connie Brockway

  “I’m all right,” she said, trying to smile. Look at him—was he not the most beautiful man who had ever lived? And in three days she’d leave and never see him again. “How is your father?”

  “He’ll live.” He smiled wryly. “I’ve decided I was adopted,” he said and paused. “I missed ye, Maddie.”

  She fought her sudden tears. It was going to be impossible to leave him. “Oh, Iain,” she said and wiped her eyes. “I missed you so much.” She took a shuddering breath. “I thought I wouldn’t see you again before I left.”

  Iain held out his hand. “Will ye come with me, Mad-die? We need to talk.”

  He didn’t speak on the short walk to his cottage, nor when he closed the door and turned to her, opening his arms. She went into them with hesitation, and when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, she raised her lips to meet his, surrendering all rational thinking. When it came to Iain MacDonald, her body had a mind of its own. He bent to kiss her with a hunger that surprised her, and she lost all conscious thought.

  He didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to lift his lips off hers, but he did long enough to whisper her name, then smile when she said his. He clasped her to him, reminding himself to slow down. He wanted to tear her clothes off, to fall on her like some savage beast. Instead he took a deep breath and held her at arm’s length. Her eyes were dark, her lips swollen, and she smiled at him.

  “Iain, what do you do to me?”

  “What do ye want me to do to ye?”

  “Kiss me again.”

  So he did, lingering over her lips, letting his tongue explore her mouth, and feeling his body react as she responded. He’d never wanted a woman more. He caressed her shoulder, then moved his hand to her breast. She moaned and leaned into his fingers, reaching for his shirt. He felt her undo the buttons and yanked the shirt loose from his jeans. Maddie slid her hands up his chest, lingering over the planes of his stomach and then reaching behind to pull him closer. He lifted his mouth from hers to kiss her throat, and when she arched her neck like a cat, he put his hands on her waist and slipped them under her top, lifting it gently over her head, bending to kiss her mouth again. He kissed the side of her neck, then her shoulders, then moved to the top of her breasts and unfastened her bra, peeling it slowly away, then leaning back to look at her.

  “Maddie, ye’re perfect,” he whispered, cupping a hand over one breast and bending to take a pink nipple in his mouth. “Perfect.” He looked up at her face as his thumb brought her other nipple to a peak. “Maddie, I want ye. Ye’re all I can think about.”

  “I want you too.” She reached for his jeans, fumbling over the fastenings. He took over, pulling them off with brisk movements, then pulled her to him again, pressing her breasts against his chest and running his hands down her back. She moaned at the feel of his skin on hers, and he leaned back with a smile.

  “Maddie,” he said, running a long finger down one side of her breast, then up the other. He kissed her shoulder. “Tell me what ye want.”

  “I’ll show you,” she said, putting her hands around his back, then moving lower. She pushed his shorts down, then from him entirely, so that he stood naked before her, ready for her. She tilted her head.

  “I want you. All of you,” she said and let her fingers run along the length of him. “You’re the most gorgeous man that has ever lived.”

  “No,” he said. “Just the luckiest.”

  He undid her slacks, and she stepped out of the pools of material at her feet, then gasped as his hand slid down her stomach and inside her panties. His mouth devoured hers while his fingers found their goal at last, and he moaned as he felt her softness.

  “Do ye want to stop?” he asked.

  “No,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder. “Do you?”

  “No, but I want ye to be sure.”

  She leaned back and looked into his eyes. She could feel him hard against her stomach, feel the warmth of his arms around her.

  “I’m sure I want you, Iain,” she said. “Do you want me?”

  “More than ye’ll ever know.”

  “Then don’t stop.”

  He pulled off her panties, his kisses making her forget she was standing naked before him. He led her to the bed, then stretched out beside her, using his lips and hands to excite her even more. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of his skin under her hands, and hers under his. His mouth moved from her breast to her waist, then lower still, and she moaned as he touched her. He was a generous lover, making sure she was well pleasured before he let her guide him on top of her. He paused then, looking down at her with an intent expression.

  “Maddie Breen,” he said. “I love ye.”

  “Iain.” She rose to meet him, gasping as he entered her, then holding him to her as he moved within her. She came in a daze of color and sensation.

  She woke wrapped in his arms, warm and satiated. Iain lay behind her, his breathing even, a long leg thrown across one of hers. He said he loved me, she thought, slipping out of his arms to sit up and look at him. He slept on his side, the blanket wrapped around his waist, his shoulders and chest bare. She sighed. Making love to him had been more wonderful than even she could have imagined. He was as magnificent in bed as he was outside it, a man any woman would want. And she did want him. She wanted to stay right here, to make love with him and pretend they were the only two people in the world. She wanted to have the freedom of reaching out and touching him whenever she wanted. She wanted to believe he loved her.

  And if she did stay? Then what? What if it was only a short-lived infatuation and they had nothing in common? Would he ship her home to New York? She sighed again. At least she’d have memories.

  “Maddie. Stay with me. Don’t leave me.”

  He stretched a long arm to capture her waist, nuzzling her side, then threw the blanket aside and moved next to her. A naked Iain MacDonald was impossible to ignore, and she looked into his eyes, anywhere but that athletic body.

  “Maddie, what’s wrong?”

  “I…” She couldn’t say it, couldn’t tell him how much she wanted to believe his words, but how afraid she was that they were only words said in the heat of passion. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Are ye sorry we made love?” His eyes were worried.

  “No.” She smiled and touched his cheek. “It was amazing, Iain. Wonderful, spectacular. I’ll never forget it.”

  “Nor will I.” He kissed her gently, then grinned. “Don’t move.” He leapt from the bed and picked up the vase of white roses she had not even noticed on the table. So many roses, their blooms just opening. “I forgot to give ye these,” he said, handing her one. “For ye, perfect Madeline.” He bent to kiss her, then took another rose, putting this one next to her on the bed. “For yer right side.” He did the same on her other side. “And yer left”

  He kissed her again, then put the vase on the floor and tore the petals off a handful of flowers. He laughed at her exclamation, then tossed some of the petals onto the bed, bending her over them, and dribbling the rest of the petals on her stomach. “For yer perfect middle,” he said and kissed her.

  “Stay, Maddie. Don’t leave me alone just yet” He rose to his knees and pulled her up with turn, dropping rose petals between them as he pressed his body, ready for her, against hers. “Stay, Maddie.”

  Maddie laughed and kissed his shoulder, then looked up to meet his gaze, dark with desire. “Yes,” she said, then forgot all about the flowers as his hands roamed over her breasts, her thighs, parting her legs as he claimed her mouth with a fervor that made her forget her fears and reach for him. They did not speak as they explored each other, then joined in a frenzy of moans and sighs. Maddie arched her back as she pulled him deeper inside her. He slipped his arm around her, then groaned as she climaxed. When she breathed his name and climaxed again, he lost control.

  Morning came too soon, the light streaming through the lace panels. Maddie lay on her side, watching the roses he’d lef
t in the vase catch the pink morning light, changing the white blossoms to rose. Three dozen white roses. Enough, he’d laughed, to make love with for a week. And he’d given her two sweaters. Not black, he’d said, and laughed again while she watched him, wondering what was happening to her. Behind her Iain stirred, then traced his fingers down her back. She turned to meet his eyes.

  “I just wanted to make sure ye were real,” he said.

  She smiled and stretched. “Mmmm. I hope so. I wouldn’t want to wake up and find out this was a dream.”

  “No.” He sat up and grinned, then reached to caress her breast. “Aye, ye’re real enough, lassie.” He threw his legs over the side of the bed.

  She leaned up against the headboard. “Look how beautiful the roses look in this light, Iain. I can’t believe you bought me three dozen roses.”

  He laughed and handed her a petal from the chaos of the blankets. “And I helped ye press them too.” He stood up and stretched while she watched him. He was the perfect man, she thought, letting her eyes drift over places her hands and mouth had visited.

  “If ye look at me like that again, Maddie, I’ll never get my work done.”

  She laughed and looked at the clock. “It’s five A.M., Iain. What work do you have to do at this hour?”

  “None just now,” he said, pulling his jeans on. “But I’ll have lots to do later. Tell me again what happened at Duntober.”

  She did, and he listened as he filled the electric kettle with water.

  “It wasn’t an accident, was it?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Who…?”

  “Ah, that’s what today will tell us. Magnus will talk to the MacLeods. But it’s no’ them, and we all know it.”

  “Then?”

  “Well,” he said and came to sit on the side of the bed. “There is a man—Alan Loomis—who used to work for Magnus at the hotel. Magnus had to let him go after he found that Loomis was embezzling. Loomis swore he’d get revenge and did some ugly things, petty and nasty, letting people who worked at the hotel take the blame for them. When Magnus found out, he started telling people, and Loomis was all but run off the island. I’d forgotten all about that—it’s been years now. But last night, when we were at Duntober, I remembered. It has to be him. He did the same loose-step thing at the Trotternish. No one else has any motive. And that blonde that ye were jealous of is part of it somehow.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  The kettle began to whistle, and he crossed the room. “Well,” he said, pouring water into the cups, “she’s been around for weeks now, always asking questions and showing up at the castle.”

  “Maybe you’re just irresistible.”

  He grinned. “Oh, I am, but this is different.”

  “What can you do?”

  “We’ll stop the information first. I think she’s supposed to keep tabs on us and report what we’re doing, and someone else is doing the damage. So, Derek’s going to keep her… busy. And I’m going to stay up at Duntober tonight and tomorrow night. Everyone else will be here for the ceilidh Friday night and I’m sure they’ll assume I will be too. I’ll stay here long enough to be seen, then go and wait.” He carried the tea over and handed her a cup.

  “Iain, if you’re right, if it’s this Loomis creature, he might be dangerous!”

  “He won’t be.” He sipped his tea, looking at her over the rim, then put the cup on the table next to the bed. “We have another two hours before the rest of the world will intrude, Maddie. Can ye think of any way to fill the time?”

  She laughed. “We could watch the telly?”

  He took her cup and placed it next to his, then leaned to brush his lips on hers. “I was thinking of something a bit more… vigorous.”

  He was in the shower when she woke again, and she lay staring at the ceiling for a few moments, then glanced at the clock, rose, and dressed. It was, unfortunately, time to join the real world again. She was trying to smooth her hair with her fingers when he came out, and he stopped in the doorway, watching her run her hands through her hair. “Maddie, ye are very bonnie.”

  She laughed and blushed. “I’m sure I look dreadful.”

  “I’m sure ye don’t.” He came to stand before her, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist. “I meant what I said before, Maddie. I love ye.”

  Maddie’s glowing mood faded, replaced by sadness.

  “Iain,” she said, her tone distant now. “That’s very nice to say. It isn’t necessary, but…”

  “Necessary?” He felt his face flush with anger, and he let his arms fall from her. “Hell, no, Maddie, it isn’t necessary at all. What do ye think it is to me, just a polite thing to say after sex?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  He stroked a finger along her jawline, then traced the outline of her lips. “Tell me ye feel nothing. Tell me ye don’t feel yer body reacting.”

  “That’s just physical, Iain.”

  “Of course it is. Part of it…. Oh, hell, Maddie—” He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers, then pulled back. “Tell me why we shouldn’t do this. Tell me, Maddie. Because I can’t think of any reason why this is wrong.”

  “What if it doesn’t work?”

  “We’ll make it work.” He kissed her forehead, then her cheek.

  “I… I think we’re setting ourselves up for failure, Iain.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Nothing can come of it. You live on Skye, and I live in New York. I have my career, and you have Duntober. We’re worlds apart. Nothing can come of it. It’s too complicated.”

  “Why? Why is it complicated? Did ye enjoy making love?”

  She sighed. “It was wonderful.”

  He met her eyes. “Aye, it was wonderful. But not good enough, is that it?”

  “No, it’s not that…”

  Her eyes filled with tears, but he ignored them. “Let’s be clear with each other, Maddie. What do think this is between us?”

  “A strong attraction. A very strong attraction.”

  “Lust, then. Mutual, apparently. But now ye’ve satisfied yer curiosity, and ye’re finished with me. Is that correct?”

  “No!”

  “I told ye I loved ye, Maddie!”

  “In the middle of sex, Iain!”

  “Then I’ll tell ye again now, when we’re not. I love ye, Maddie Breen.”

  She wiped her tears from her cheek, then shook her head. He felt his chest tighten. “Ye don’t believe me?”

  “You’ve only known me for days, Iain. Yes, there’s something very strong between us. But it’s not love. It’s an infatuation. It’ll pass.”

  He stepped back from her. “I’ve having an infatuation.”

  “It’s a mutual infatuation.” She met his eyes. “This was wonderful, Iain. Amazing. I’ll never forget it. But it’s not love. Love doesn’t happen in days. One of us has to be realistic.”

  “Why?”

  “Iain!”

  “I’m serious. Why can’t this work? I love ye.”

  “Don’t say that! You can’t love me. It’s not possible to fall in love so soon.”

  “It is possible. Look, I don’t understand it either. But I want to be with ye, Maddie. I don’t understand it, I can’t explain it, but there it is. I’m finding myself thinking about buying a house and getting a dog and coming home to ye each evening. I love ye, Maddie. Look at me and tell me ye feel nothing for me.”

  “I can’t. I do care for you, Iain. A great deal. If things were otherwise, I would love to be in love with you. But this is impossible.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I live in New York, and you live in Scotland.”

  “That’s a choice on both parts. I could move to New York.”

  “You’d hate it. I’m not sure I even like it anymore.”

  “Then ye could stay here.”

  “I can’t do that. I have a whole team of people depending…
”

  He stopped her with a raised hand. “God, Maddie, don’t give me that. I’ve been there. It’s not enough to fill a life. I ruined my marriage, I lost friends. And for what? There are other ways to live.”

  “I have responsibilities. I can’t just walk away.”

  “Yes, ye can. It is possible. Ye’re not saving lives in advertising. Life will go on whether the art is well done or not. Ye like to think ye’re indispensable, but there are hundreds of people waiting to take yer spot.”

  “I worked hard to get where I am.”

  “I’m sure ye did. But will it keep ye warm in yer old age?”

  “I’ll deal with that if it happens.” She spread her hands. “Look, Iain, you want me to walk away from everything, to leave New York and my family and my job. You want me to give up my life.”

  “No, I don’t If ye say the word, I’ll move to New York.”

  She stared at him. “You would do that?”

  “I would go anywhere to be with ye.”

  “But what would you do?”

  He shrugged. “Dunno. Start a new firm?”

  “What about Duntober? What about Magnus?”

  “I haven’t worked out the details.”

  “It would never work.”

  “We could make it work if we tried. Ye could stay here. Ye could do the art for the Duntober brochures. Or paint whatever ye wished for a change.”

  “You’d be bored with me soon, and then what?”

  He flushed with anger and turned to stare through the window. Don’t explode, he told himself. He looked back at her, his tone glacial now. “That’s damn insulting, ye know. I’m not some sort of halfwit. If I say I love ye, I love ye. It’s not a mood, Maddie. It’s not an infatuation that will pass. I agree it’s an astonishing timeline, but there it is. Life is about choices, and I get the message loud and clear. I chose ye, but ye don’t choose me.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “It’s very fair.” He shrugged. “Maybe ye just wanted a summer romance, something to remember in the middle of a long winter. Hot sex and then, bam, off to New York. Well, I want more. All or nothing, Maddie. Love me like I love ye, or get the hell out of my life. Which ye already plan to do.”