Her future sucked. Hell, her present sucked.
The damned pin. She wished Gran had never entrusted her with the thing.
Her father put his arm around her and drew her close. “Honey, I’m sorry. We were only at the neighbor’s campfire for half an hour.”
She roused herself. “Was anything else taken?”
When her father didn’t answer, she looked to the security officer with the notepad. “No. Looks like a smash and grab. We suspect he’d spotted the camera and followed your parents to their camper then waited for his chance.”
“Holy smokes. He could have hurt you, Dad. I never should have let you take my camera bag.”
The second officer cleared his throat. “As to that, do you have any idea of who the thief could be?”
A vision of the young man she’d seen at the concert came to mind. She gave his description.
“We’ve had two other reports of break-ins tonight. Local police are stopping people at the gates. Without a serial number, there’s not much we can do to prove ownership.”
She smiled for the first time in what seemed like hours. “I can access the information from my phone. Hang on.”
The officers left and she hugged her father. “Dad, not your fault. They’ll catch the guy. Everything will be fine.”
“Your mother and Gran had such high hopes for you this weekend. Guess we shouldn’t have forced you along.”
She kissed his cheek. “Shush. I’ll never forget this weekend.”
Chapter Ten
Isla faced her mother, clenched fists on her hips the next morning. “Meeting some Scots piper is the last thing I want to do today.”
She’d earned her bad attitude because once again, the air mattress had collapsed, probably from her thrashing as she replayed Graeme’s seductive dance turned cold. The camera theft shared top nightmare billing. After a fitful night on the musty rubber she’d risen at dawn, shivering and knee deep in fog. Even the pot of coffee she’d gulped hadn’t alleviated her exhaustion or bone deep chill.
Her mother crossed her arms. “Gran promised, which means you will go to lunch with the group.”
Isla could say she was still upset about her camera theft—which she was—but such a comment would trouble her parents. And given she’d been the one to lose Gran’s magic pin and put the negative events into play, putting her family on the spot wasn’t fair.
“Fine,” she said. “Don’t expect me to stay long or play nice if he’s a jerk.”
Gran hurried into camp and wrapped her small hands around Isla’s arm. “I saw Fiona jist now. Her brawny lads, the both of ’em, will be at the luncheon. ’Tis not that you’ll have a choice, fer the younger has a lass. But I’m that happy you’ll meet the family.” She leaned closer. “Yer wearin’ the pin? Ye ken I want ye happy?”
Isla stiffened. “About the pin—”
“Ye’ll keep it and hand it to yer own lass when she’s of an age.”
Isla studied Gran’s face. All thoughts of confessing she’d misplaced the pin flew from her mind. Nor would she explain the lust that caused the loss. She’d paid for being a “disregarding woman,” and had definitely “suffered a most grievous loss.” More than one emotional injury.
Gran rubbed her hands together. “So are ye ready ti meet yer destiny?”
“Gran, all I’m expecting is lunch. No more. Don’t raise your hopes on my account.”
“’Tis not ma hopes need raisin’.” She turned and mumbled her way into the camper. A moment later she sailed out. “I’m awa’ ti wish ma friends a speedy trip. See ye fer lunch.”
“Now see what you’ve done,” her mother said. “It’s not enough that we barely saw you this weekend. No. You had to hurt Gran’s feelings. Shame on you.”
Isla kept her head down, avoiding her mother’s death stare. As penance, she worked hard packing up the campsite. She vowed to make nice with Piper Boy at lunch, though she’d rather be anywhere else.
Her vow was severely tested when her family set foot in the restaurant. Isla’s jaw dropped. Of course. Her weekend from hell would not be complete without Gran setting up a blind date with Graeme. Could be worse, like Scott begging for reconciliation. As if she’d want Graeme’s ex’s leavings.
Isla tried not to look, she really did, but Graeme’s presence demanded her attention. He wore those tight jeans she’d seen on him when they met. A charcoal tee played up his eye color. And yes, those damn black boots with the buckles. Criminy. What was a girl to do?
She plastered a smile to her face and shook hands with his mother. Nodded at Liam, Kenzie, and Jessie. Brought her emotions under control and dipped her head in Graeme’s direction without catching his eye.
A server came by with glasses of water and menus. She gulped half her glass, cringing when her sinuses rebelled at the cold. Unable to make sense of the menu, she stood. “Excuse me. I should wash my hands.” She stalked off.
The woman’s room was occupied. She leaned against the wall across from the door and closed her eyes.
Warmth surrounded her. Graeme’s spicy scent, tinged with musk met her nostrils. Great. What fresh hell awaited?
She opened her eyes. His palms were against the wall to either side, caging her. A determined tilt to his jaw, combined with an intent expression told her he hadn’t come to play games. Looked like time to pay the piper.
“Did you mean what you said? About me being incredible?”
“What. Your ego isn’t big enough?”
His eyes flashed. “I need to know. You referred to the sex, right? Because I’m pretty sure you stuck me in a box, assuming I’d act a certain way because I pipe.”
How could such a good-looking man be so insecure? Oh, right. The blonde skank was his ex. She figured this conversation had no legs, so she opted for the truth.
She tucked her hair behind her ears. “I meant it’s difficult for me trust a man. Incredible applied to you as a person.” She studied her feet. “I told you my fantasy. You more than fulfilled my desires.” She caught his gaze. “And yes, the sex was phenomenal.”
The ladies’ bathroom door swung open and an older woman exited sending them a curious stare. Isla watched her mince away then turned back to Graeme.
“So your curiosity is satisfied? If so, I’ve got a destination in mind and men aren’t allowed.”
“Jesus H. you are one stubborn woman. I’m trying to share a conversation.”
“Really? Talking about stereotypes, I’m sick of being called stubborn. Would you refer to a feisty, non-Scot that way?”
He rubbed his jaw. “Huh.”
She pushed past him and into the bathroom, Graeme on her heels.
“I’ve got more to say,” he said.
“I’m finished listening.” Whirling, she slammed her fists to her hips. “I’ll be nice at table because I promised my gran, but nothing more. Get out.”
His fingers caressed her cheeks. “We’re not done.”
“You arrogant ass.” Heat followed his stroke. Her breath caught, ending her tirade. Crap.
“Listen. Please?” He reached to close and lock the door. He leaned against the wall and crossed his legs. “Look, I didn’t want another girlfriend who’s all gung-ho on Scotland. I wasn’t expecting to hook up with anyone this weekend.”
He fell silent. Because she couldn’t determine the quality of his quiet, she waited.
“Something about you caught my attention in the hotel lobby. Then again the morning you invaded my privacy. So when we met the third time, I figured, why not?”
“I feel so flattered,” she said.
“You should. I haven’t been with a woman for months. I can control my impulses.” His lips quirked. “Usually.” He shoved off from the wall and cupped her jaw. “But not now.” His lips covered hers in a gentle kiss soon turned incendiary.
She heard the doorknob rattle and broke off the kiss. “Someone needs the bathroom.”
“Let ’em use the men’s can.” He swooped in, reclaim
ing her lips. Yanking her against his hard-on, his palms covered her ass and squeezed. Her pussy tingled, wanting up close and personal treatment.
His scent, heat, and desire surrounded her, warming her blood.
The knob rattled again. “Emergency out here.”
He raised his head. His eyes narrowed. “She’s not going away, is she?”
Isla’s lips tingled. She shook her head. “Nope. Doesn’t sound that way.”
Graeme unlocked the door while she straightened her clothes and hair. They walked out in single file. A young woman grasping the hand of a little girl who held her crotch and danced in place watched them with thinly veiled fascination.
“The men’s room is across the hall,” she said, ignoring her daughter’s drawn out “Hurry, Mom.”
He jiggled. “Sorry. Couldn’t wait.” He grinned and the woman blushed.
“Don’t worry,” Isla said. “I didn’t watch.”
“I would have.” The mother finally noticed her girl throwing up her skirt and lowering her underpants in the hallway. “Not here, sweetie.”
“I gotta go, Mom.”
“I have some advice for you,” the woman said. “Enjoy yourselves while you can.” She grinned. “Not that kids aren’t rewarding, but—”
Isla had no intention of continuing the conversation. She turned toward the dining room. He stopped her with a hand to her upper arm.
“I’ve decided to keep my room for tonight.”
She gasped, immediately sorry for the reflexive action. “So?”
“So I’d like you to stay with me.”
The young mother yelled her opinion through the door. “Do it. Gotta be more comfortable than a public bathroom with people waiting in line.”
Her face heated. She’d gone from celibacy to hot sex and salacious comments made by strangers in one weekend. May as well end her fling with a bang. She nodded.
“Great. I’m gonna hit the head. See you at the table,” His voice dropped. “Later.”
Back at the table, her mother gave her a perfunctory glance then examined her more fully. “What took so long? Is something wrong? You look a bit flushed. Do you have a fever?”
She sat and sipped her ice water. “There was a line.”
Everyone chattered around her as she hid behind her menu. Had she made a mistake in agreeing to meet him for another night? Her increased pulse thought the idea was a-okay.
Somehow she made it through lunch without spilling, dribbling or dropping on herself. Not that Graeme helped. She was pretty sure he timed suggestive comments only she would understand fully for the moment she’d taken a bite of her sandwich or a sip of tea.
The group stood in the parking lot, exchanging phone numbers and e-mail addresses. Once again she wondered if having one more night with a weekend fling was a smart idea when the two families were on their way to becoming fast friends. She gnawed on her lower lip, considering her options as she joined Gran at the car.
“Ach, my lass. Nae time ti haud bak and miss oot.” She waved a hand toward Graeme. “Yer missin’ yer chance ti tak his fancy.”
“Not really holding back, Gran. I agreed to meet him for a drink later, after I check on whether they’ve found my camera.” Security had told her they’d call with information, but why wait? If they found her camera while she was in town, so much the better.
Gran grinned, her face sporting a wealth of wrinkles and obvious amusement. “So then, ye were up to somethin’ when ye went to the lav. I thought as much.”
“Well, you did give me your magic pin. Did you expect anything less?”
She laid a finger alongside her nose. “I have a wee confession. Ma Ian bought the pin on our Islay holiday. Auld it is, but nae what I told ye.” She tilted her head, her lips pursed. “Though to be sure, I’d not be happy were it lost.”
Isla struggled for thoughts, then words. “There is no tradition? No faery magic?”
“Nae magic other than what ye create for yerself. Yer strong me lass. Yer destiny’s no so scary when ye ken what ye want.” Gran winked. “Use the magic ye hold in yer heart and let yer fears blow to sea.”
The back of her throat was sandy. She blinked rapidly. “Oh, Gran, maybe the pin holds no magic, but you do.”
Chapter Eleven
Graeme checked the hotel room clock. Six o’clock. They hadn’t left the restaurant until almost four and then Isla had returned to the grounds to speak with security personnel. He hadn’t known about her stolen camera until she’d mentioned the theft at lunch.
Weekend from hell for her what with losing her gran’s pin, a stolen camera, and him acting like a dickwad. Could he give her a bit of heaven and wipe the taste from her mouth? He could try if she’d let him. Lucky she hadn’t stuffed him down the toilet in the women’s bathroom earlier.
The knock at his door still echoed when he threw open the entry. Isla’s eyes widened. Before she could speak, he’d yanked her into his arms, leaned closer and captured her mouth. Sucked lightly on her bottom lip. Ran his tongue over her lips, gratified when she opened to him. A soft nip finished off his greeting, and he drew back.
“Wow, what a welcome,” she said with her eyes still closed. She sighed.
Her long white neck and soft, moist mouth invited him back for another taste, but not before drawing her inside.
“See what you do to me? I couldn’t wait to blow this town, then saw you again and had to stay another night.”
“What if I’d turned down your invitation?”
“I’d be home,” he said. “Kicking my ass in between sipping malt whiskey.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Instead of answering, he placed his hand at the small of her back and directed her to the bed. “I’ve got a small confession.”
She sank onto the mattress, her back straight. “Oh, God, not another one.”
“Huh?”
She licked her lips. “At the restaurant Gran admitted the heirloom pin she gave me isn’t old. Or imbued with faery magic.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Magic? I’m kind of serious, here, but if you’re not interested in hearing me out, say so.”
She turned wide eyes his way. “I believed her. Trusted Gran to tell me the truth then I learned she’d misled me.”
Betrayal. Strike one. Yeah, he could understand the hurt generated by a loved one’s duplicity. And she’d already admitted she didn’t always trust men. Strike two.
Although—” Her face pinched with thought.
“Yes?”
A smile lit her face. “If I hadn’t lost the pin, I wouldn’t have come back here to find it, thinking bad things would happen if I didn’t recover the thing. And my favorite fantasy came true.” Sudden darkness replaced her smile.
“Yeah, and that’s where I come in. Treating you like shit last night.” He sighed and speared his fingers through his hair. “Look, I don’t have excuses, but I do have reasons for hustling you out of here.”
A gestured “go ahead” hand signal was his answer. He inhaled and decided to give this his best shot and hoped he’d avoid strike three.
“Look, you’re the opposite of my preferred type of woman.”
“Gee, can you get more flattering?”
He placed two fingers over her lush mouth. “This is hard to say. Let me finish?”
She nodded.
“Most of the women I screw want me in charge. I hate to mention my ex, but she was the missionary position type.” He rubbed her lips with his fingertips. “But you, you’re the fantasy woman I’d been looking for.” His fingers brushed her cheekbones. “Strong.” Her breaths came faster. “Knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask.” He rubbed the soft skin of her ear lobe between two fingers and tugged. “Creative in all the right ways.”
“Your words have stopped my heart.” She lightly pounded her chest and cocked an ear as if listening. “If this is your idea of foreplay keep going. I’m getting wet and you’re barely touching me.”
; “See what I mean?” His voice sounded hoarse. “Shit. So I started thinking there might be more here, you know, between us, and then you talked about fucking someone’s brains out, like I’d freaking serviced you. I figured all’s you wanted was a hard dick.” He pinioned his shaking hands between his thighs and the mattress.
“Yeah, I’d love another taste of you, can’t seem to help myself, but want to know one thing first.” He held her gaze. “What’s in this for you?”
****
She gulped. If she didn’t step up now, would she regret this day the rest of her years?
“As I’ve said before, the sex was incredible.” Her face heated. “But I’m not the woman you think I am. I was different this weekend, with you.”
She closed her eyes, in part to concentrate but also to avoid his steady regard. Her forehead wrinkled. “I think I could let go because my heart trusted you.”
“Go on.”
How did he know she had more on her mind? “I was hurt thinking you’d had enough of me.”
He kissed her temple. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too. I was a coward for not asking you what was wrong last night. But I figured you wanted a weekend hook-up. I didn’t want to take a chance on more.”
“We could be emotional bookends.”
She cupped his face in her hands. “Guess that’s about all except I’d like to have one more night with you.”
He drew her closer. “One more night? That’s all?”
Their mouths met and opened. She explored the sensitive skin beneath his upper lip. His low moan, prompted her; she sucked his tongue.
A seductive tongue tango led to prone positions. He rolled her atop his chest.
One stray thought needed clarification. “How can we have more than tonight? I don’t even know where you live,” she said. “We could be cities, states apart.
He named a neighborhood within two miles of hers. “Yer gran tole ma mither where ye lived.”
His Scottish accent on the last sentence made her smile against her will. “Did I really say I didn’t want to hook up with another bloody piper? Enough foreplay.”
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