He pinched my cheek. “Very funny. I’ve eaten local food on six of the seven continents. My tastes are eclectic.”
Did that include his love life? I wondered.
It wouldn’t have surprised me if Angus had expected me to do the bulk of the meal prep. Many men still thought the kitchen was a woman’s realm. But I was wrong. I ended up being his sous-chef.
We worked well together. Again I had to rearrange my expectations, because this was no spaghetti sauce out of a jar. Angus set me to chopping garlic and parsley while he browned the meat, diced the tomatoes, and grated Parmesan cheese. Soon the beautiful kitchen was filled with the fragrant aroma of spaghetti carbonara.
I was tasked with setting the table. For a bachelor, Angus owned an impressive collection of linens and dinnerware. I rummaged in a cabinet and picked out hand-woven forest-green placemats along with matching napkins. The large pottery plates were brown with a darker brown stripe around the edge.
He also had an impressive wine cellar. I knew next to nothing about such things other than red and white, so I let him pick the vintage, and I selected stemware.
Annis and Màiri appeared as if on cue, just as I ladled generous servings of pasta and sauce onto each plate. Angus added fresh Romano on top, and at the last minute remembered to grab the crusty loaf of bread out of the oven.
We sat down at the table in unison. I was disarmed when Mrs. Munro offered to say the grace. Angus and Annis seemed unsurprised, so I bowed my head with the rest of them as Màiri spoke in her soft, beautifully accented voice.
Some have meat and cannot eat,
Some cannot eat that want it;
But we have meat and we can eat,
So let the Lord be thankit.
Charmed and delighted to be included in this ordinary family meal, I consumed my portion in silence, content to let the two older women carry the conversation. Angus chimed in as well. Clearly they were all concerned about friends and neighbors and how the village had fared in the storm.
But my reprieve lasted only so long. Annis pinned me with a rueful gaze. “I’m sorry you’ll be moving along, Hayley. But no matter the state of my house, there will be considerable cleanup to do. Maybe Angus will let you stay here for a bit.”
She took me completely by surprise. I honestly hadn’t even considered the ramifications of the flood to me personally. My heart sank. “Oh, but I—”
Màiri interrupted, a slight frown between her eyebrows. “Don’t meddle, Annis. I’m sure Hayley can make other arrangements in Inverness or Oban.”
Angus’s face was hard to read. But my own cheeks heated at the fact I was being pushed off on him without his invitation. “I have plenty of options,” I said hurriedly. “Don’t worry about me.”
My host shifted in his chair, a smile on his lips, though it seemed somewhat forced. “All three of you ladies are welcome to stay here as long as necessary.”
It didn’t escape my notice that he had lumped me in with his mother and an old woman. He might want to have sex with me, but no man wants to be saddled with an uninvited houseguest, especially when it was a woman who might get the wrong idea about where a relationship was headed.
Fortunately, the subject was dropped when Angus stood up to answer his cell phone. The conversation was lengthy. And, of course, we were privy to only one side. Angus frowned time and again and even winced on occasion. When he returned to the table, his demeanor was sober.
“We’ll clean up the dinner things and then head that way,” he said. “I only got a general report. But the disaster is widespread. The elementary school is heavily damaged, and at least three homes on the riverbank were washed away completely.”
I felt so terribly sorry for Màiri and Annis. Their houses were not immediately on the river, but close enough to feel the effects. It was half past seven when we piled into the same large black vehicle that had spirited us out of danger and up the mountain.
We went to Màiri’s house first. It was an extremely modest dwelling. Its simplicity, in contrast to Angus’s fine home atop the mountain, shocked me. He must have noticed my reaction, because as we got out of the car, he spoke to me in a low voice. “When I came home last year, I wanted to build Mum her own place up beside me…or even here in Drumnadrochit. All the modern conveniences. But she flatly refused. She claims to love this tiny house. I grew up here.”
“Women can be very sentimental about such things,” I said. “She’s remembering baby toys and toddler steps and first days of school.”
Shallow water still lapped at the doorstep of the small house. Everything was very wet, and it was clear to see where the flood had crested. A line marked the front of every dwelling, at least twelve inches off the ground.
Once inside, Màiri cried. A thin film of mud and sediment coated every inch of the floor. Angus wrapped his arms around his mother and held her close.
By unspoken agreement, Annis and I excused ourselves. “What happened to Mr. Munro, Angus’s father?” I asked her as we exited, suddenly realizing I had never heard anyone speak of him.
Annis shook her head. “Never was a Mr. Munro. Puir dear Màiri was seduced by a visitor from Edinburgh when she was only sixteen years old. He fed her tales of taking her back to the big city with him and making her his bride. But the wicked devil was nothing more than a predator, a married man looking for an easy mark.”
“What about her family?”
“Och, they turned their back on her. Angus’s grandparents lived out on one of the western isles. Fortunately, there was a great aunt here in Drumnadrochit who took Màiri in and helped with the baby. When the old woman went on to her reward, she left the little house to Màiri. It was a hard life for an unwed mother and a bastard child.”
“Was it really such a terrible thing in this day and age?”
Annis shook her head. “Thirty-five years ago? In a tiny village? Aye, it was. To this day, I think the boy carries the scars of not having a father and being called names. Bairns can be cruel, as you must know.”
I nodded my head, trying to image a tiny version of Angus holding his head high and daring anyone to disrespect him. My heart clenched at the unfairness of life. No wonder his mother looked so young. She was barely fifty. It was a shame she hadn’t found someone else to love along the way. Perhaps her disillusionment ran too deep.
“Let’s go on to your house,” I said to Annis. “I’m sure they’ll know where we’ve disappeared to.”
Our journey was brief, just one street over and a dozen houses down the way. We trudged through water, but it was receding rapidly. In the overgrown cottage that had become my home while here in Scotland, the story of the flood was much the same as everywhere else. At least I had been able to help Annis get valuable things up off the floor. But her packrat tendencies had left a soggy mess of magazines and newspapers strewn from door to door.
Our feet squished on the throw rugs.
I saw her jaw work with emotion, but she didn’t cry. Perhaps seeing Màiri’s house had prepared her. Or perhaps Annis was old enough to accept life’s ups and downs as a natural consequence of living.
Angus found us not long after. He put his arm around the old woman’s shoulders. “Come along now, Ms. Annis. There’s naught to be done here until tomorrow.”
I noticed that at certain moments Angus’s speech patterns sounded far more authentically Scottish than at others. His travels had exposed him to a great number of language and accents. But here at home and in the midst of a difficult situation, he reverted to a rhythm of speaking that pointed out the differences in our backgrounds.
I followed them out to the vehicle. The sun had set by now. Long shadows covered the village. There had been no deaths reported during the flood. That was a very good thing. But there was much work to be done. I feared that Mrs. Pottinger was one of the many who would struggle. She lived on a fixed income and had very little left over for extras.
Màiri had climbed into th
e back of the car this time, so I sat in the front. We were a silent foursome on the way back to Angus’s house. I was very aware of him sitting beside me. He had exhibited a deep measure of compassion today. For his mother, that was understandable. But even with Annis, to whom he had no significant connection, he had been kind and patient.
It startled me to realize I was beginning to see him as a person of many facets, not simply a sexy stranger with whom I might decide to have a harmless flirtation…or more.
Once we were ensconced again in the luxurious house at the top of the heather-covered hill, Annis and Màiri were sent off to bed with biscuits and cups of hot cocoa.
Angus touched my arm as they departed. “Have a glass of wine with me,” he said. The words were low, the tone intimate.
Chapter 16
The fine hairs on my nape stood up. “Of course,” I said, feeling a bit like the canary being stalked by the cat.
He grabbed a bottle of chardonnay and two glasses from the kitchen before escorting me farther down the center hallway to a room I hadn’t yet seen. In modern parlance it would be called a man cave, but this particular version was so much more.
The requisite big-screen TV was hidden behind a carved panel that retracted silently when Angus pressed a button. The walls were covered in antique tapestries, finely woven scenes of court life in ages past. Beneath our feet, a lush crimson rug added a sybaritic note.
I turned around in a circle, marveling. The room was both masculine and inviting, but it bore the mark of a man who was complex and intriguing. A young boy born without a father. Launched to fame on the strength of his athletic ability. Well-traveled. Sophisticated in many ways. And yet tied by choice to a region and a people he called home.
We sat on a soft leather sofa, the kind that threatens to swallow a person whole. I kicked off my shoes and curled my legs beneath me. “Will you tell me about playing soccer? Football, I mean…”
He poured the wine and handed me a glass. “It’s all I’ve ever known,” he said simply. “University tuition for residents is free in Scotland, but even with that, room and board are expensive. My mum didn’t have the money. I was a natural at football, and I loved it. So it was my ticket out of small town life.”
“And yet you retired and came home.”
“I missed Scotland,” he said simply. “In my twenties I loved the travel and the excitement and the women. But I suppose I grew up eventually. I began to yearn for the hills and the heather and the open spaces. Fortunately, I’m a canny Scot when it comes to finances. I didn’t blow my money on whisky and drugs.”
“So when you decided to retire, you were in good shape.”
“Aye. I’m no Bill Gates, but I get by.”
His droll, self-deprecating humor was refreshing. I’d known a few men with money. In my experience, the wealthy tended to be self-centered. But that might be my prejudice showing.
“What’s it like being the celebrity of Drumnadrochit? The local boy made good?”
His face darkened. “No’ as braw as you think.”
“Braw?”
“Wonderful. Great.” He offered the translation without looking at me. Instead, he refilled his wine glass.
“Why not?” I was indignant on his behalf.
Angus shrugged. “People are strange creatures, Hayley. I ended up playing for Manchester United, an English team. The lads at home were proud as peacocks to say they knew me or to cheer when they saw me on the telly at the pub. But it still stuck in their craw that I had ‘betrayed my heritage.’ No Scottish club could have offered me the worldwide playing field that Man U did. My buddies were in agreement with that. But somehow they drew a line in the sand with me on the wrong side of it.”
“Maybe they don’t know what to say to you now that you’re famous.”
“Don’t be daft. I’m the same man. I wanted to do something for the village when I came home…to pay it forward, ye ken? But my mates, some of whom are now in position of local authority, turned me down. They thought I was throwing my money around, trying to impress people.”
“I’m sorry, Angus.” For a moment, he had let me in. Perhaps later he would regret his revelations, but now I understood far more than I had before.
“Enough about me,” he said gruffly. “What will you do now that your holiday has been ruined?”
I frowned. “Nothing’s been ruined.”
“Do you want to stay then?” There was an undercurrent to his question that made me shiver inwardly. If I had ever needed courage, it was now.
“I suppose that depends on you.” I said the words calmly, but inside, I was a mess.
He set his glass on the low table in front of us and half turned, one arm along the back of the couch. “Enlighten me, lass.”
“You know what I mean,” I said, feeling cross. “You and I have started something. I’d like to see where it goes.”
The change in him was astonishing. A moment ago, his mood had been dark and even cynical. Now he grinned. I felt the full measure of his charismatic personality wash over me like a tidal wave.
“Why, Hayley Smith,” he said chuckling. “You surprise the hell out of me.”
“I can’t imagine why. Any woman in my shoes would be interested in you.”
His gaze narrowed, settling on my mouth like a physical caress. “What shoes are you in, little Sassenach?”
There. He said it again. Almost as if he knew the word affected me strongly. “I don’t play games, Angus. I am a nice woman. I have a lot of friends. A good job. Money in the bank. A loving family. But I am not…” I bit my lip, searching for the word I wanted.
Somehow, he had spanned the space between us and now I was tucked in the curve of his shoulder. He played with my hair, his fingertips warm on the back of my neck. “Not what, Hayley?”
“Interesting,” I blurted out. “I’m not interesting.”
Something flashed in his eyes. I found myself remembering the day he had plucked me from the loch. “No. You are not.”
Before I could wallow in my hurt feelings, he elaborated. “You are so much more than interesting. You are unique, Hayley. Adventurous. Wide-eyed with wonder. Openhearted. Kind to an old woman. And a damned good kisser.”
“Really?” I touched my lips involuntarily and then blushed when Angus laughed out loud.
“Put your hands on my cheeks,” he said huskily.
I obeyed.
“Now pull my head down. Take the kiss we both want.”
My heart raced. This was more than a summer’s flirtation. I needed to taste him more than I needed my next breath.
Beneath my fingertips, his jaw was firm. The hour was late. Stubble covered his chin and cheeks. Hesitantly, I tugged as he had demanded and found him to be easily persuaded. Our lips met and lingered…separated and clung once more.
“Oh, Angus…”
I was lost in the moment, barely coherent, but he was as confident as I was befuddled. “You’ve bewitched me, Hayley Smith from Georgia. With your southern belle ways and your honey-sweet voice.” He lowered me to the sofa and moved over me, kissing me roughly.
In some dim corner of my mind I was aware that things were getting out of hand. Angus had two houseguests, either of whom might walk in on us at any moment. “Wait,” I whispered. He must not have heard me, because his fingers fumbled at the buttons of my blouse. “Angus,” I said urgently. “We can’t do this right now.”
Something in my voice pierced his concentration. He’d been set on undressing me. Now he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and sat up. His cheekbones were ruddy and his chest heaved. “Sorry,” he muttered. “You make me a little crazy.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
My prim retort was as sincere as it was stilted.
“What now?” he asked. “Annis is right. You’ve done a lot of planning for this trip. I can take you and drop you off anywhere you like. Edinburgh. The Orkneys. Just say the word. You sh
ould enjoy Scotland while you can.”
“Does that mean you want to get rid of me? You want me to leave?” I poked the beast purposely to see what kind of reaction I would get.
He propped his feet on the coffee table and leaned back, hands linked behind his head. Though his pose appeared relaxed, I noted a fine tension in the set of his shoulders and in the sharp line of his masculine jaw.
“I don’t,” he said abruptly. “But the next few days are going to be filled with cleanup and recovery. There won’t be much time for romance, and even if there were, I can’t kick my mum and Annis out of my house.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” I said firmly. “If you did, you wouldn’t be the man I admire.”
“So where does that leave us?”
I knew what he was hinting at. My stay, though lengthy, had a finite end. I heard the clock ticking already. It wasn’t as if I could adjust my return plane ticket. By the time I made it back to Atlanta, I would barely have a week to prepare for the first day of school.
“I’d like to help,” I said. “I came to Scotland to absorb the land and the people. Every day doesn’t need to be a postcard experience.” I paused, unable to explain how much I yearned to feel a part of this wonderful place. “I want to be more than a tourist. I need to be useful.”
“Give me a week,” he said, his eyes ablaze with a message that transcended differences in our native vocabularies. “That should be enough to take care of the worst of the problems in town. After that you and I will go south to Oban. It’s a beautiful seaport. Famous distilleries. World-class restaurants. You’ll love it.” I saw his throat work as he swallowed. “And it will be just the two of us.”
Chapter 17
Angus stood and took my hand to pull me to my feet. Since I was barefoot, he towered over me. I linked my arms around his neck. “Oban sounds amazing,” I whispered. Though I didn’t voice the thought, I wouldn’t even mind if we spent most of our time in the hotel room.
Angus groaned, resting his forehead against mine. “This week is going to be torture. Promise me you won’t do anything seductive in the meantime. I can’t guarantee my reactions.”
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