by Lori Foster
Such as not in Luss of all places and certainly not with her last clean pair of travel pants stained by mud smears and dog slobber.
She started to tell him to just take his haggis-addicted dog and leave, but before she could the proprietress returned with a glass of water and a small, linen towel.
“Ach, Kieran, whatever are you going to do with that beast?” She flashed him a look as she plunked down the water and the cloth.
To Jilly, she added, “I’ll have a fresh plate of haggis for you shortly. If”—she glanced at the dog before hurrying away—“Kieran can shepherd his dog outside where he belongs!”
“He was in my boat where he always is.” Kieran snatched up the cloth and dipped it into the water. “He would’ve stayed there if he hadn’t caught sight of some fool Jack Russell running circles on the beach.”
“A Jack Russell?” The pretty American’s brow knit. “A small brown and white one?”
Kieran wrung out the cloth. “I was too busy trying to call back Haggis to pay much attention to the little bugger. I only knew he bolted away from the strand and made a beeline for the Colquhoun Inn.”
He offered the girl an apologetic smile. “With Haggis on his tail that meant trouble.”
“Indeed.” She glanced at her mud-stained thighs.
She had sweet, shapely thighs. And he was dabbing at them with the dampened cloth.
“Och, sorry!” He jerked back as if he’d scorched himself. “I didn’t mean—”
“I’m sure.” She snatched the towel and rubbed vigorously against her knee, the color in her cheeks revealing she really had thought the worst of him. “I can get the stains out myself, thank you.”
“No, please . . .” Kieran felt his own face flaming. “I’d like to make it up to you. I’m Kieran MacColl, a local . . .”
He broke off, horrified to realize he’d been about to assure her he wasn’t some reprobate. Blast, he’d wanted to make amends, not put his foot in his mouth.
Not that she appeared to be listening.
In fact, he was sure she’d dismissed him.
Kieran frowned.
“Look,” he began, “I have a boat—the Salty Seal—and I’ll take you on a tour of the loch. You can meet me at the pier, at four o’clock if you’re interested.”
“The Salty Seal?” She looked up, her hand stilling on her knee.
He nodded. “The name is a story in itself. I’ll tell you on the boat.”
Her eyes narrowed with a bit too much apprehension for his liking.
Kieran gave her his best I-am-not-an-axe-murderer smile. “You won’t be sorry, I swear it.”
“I have things to do.” She went back to scrubbing her thigh. “I doubt I’ll have time.”
Haggis chose that moment to lunge forward and lick her hand. Unfortunately, it was one of his full-out slurpy-wet kisses.
She jerked back, dropping the cloth.
Then, to his surprise, her lips twitched. “I’ll think about it,” she said, looking on as he bent to scoop up the towel. “But I can’t make any promises. I really do have a full schedule.”
“Four o’clock at the pier.” Kieran gave Haggis a look that said it was time to go and started for the door, some half-crazed instinct telling him not to give her a chance to say a definite no.
There was something about her that made him determined to see her again. Something indefinable that went beyond her obvious charms.
Something oddly familiar.
He just needed to figure out what it was.
CHAPTER TWO
At approximately two minutes before four o’clock that same afternoon, Jilly caught herself just before she stepped onto the Luss pier. Stopping in her tracks, she gave herself a shake, grateful that Kieran Whatever-His-Name-Was had his back to her. He stood beside his boat, a sturdy-looking craft all gleaming white and with the name Salty Seal in bright blue letters on its side.
His haggis-eating dog was nowhere in sight.
Nor were the twenty or so tourists she’d been told to expect onboard for the boat tour. The innkeeper had sworn he never went out empty. She wouldn’t have to worry about being alone with him. There’d be no need to make small talk or avoid personal questions with a group of eager-to-see-the-scenery people keeping him busy.
She frowned.
Seeing him alone changed everything.
A soft rain had fallen earlier and low clouds still clung to the hills across the loch while the water gleamed like smooth, polished silver. Standing against such a backdrop gave any man an advantage. When that man happened to be a tall, broad-shouldered, and very good-looking Scot, the results were nearly fatal.
And more than enough reason for her to turn around and leave. She’d been out of her mind to consider joining his boat tour in the first place. After all, she did have other things to do.
Well, one thing.
But it was extremely important.
She lifted a hand to the locket that now seemed to pulse hotly against her skin. Her cheeks felt heated, too, and her heart thundered. She tried to tell herself that she was jittery because of her mission and not because the Scotsman on the pier looked so ruggedly handsome. As if he could stride across Loch Lomond’s mist-shrouded hills, each blade of grass, stone, and clump of heather acknowledging his birthright to being there.
Jilly cast another glance at him and was relieved to see he still stood with his back to her. With luck, he wouldn’t see her slipping down the lochside path as she made her way to the Luss Church and its graveyard.
A destination she wasn’t going to reach because even if Kieran hadn’t noticed her arrival and quick turnabout at the pier, someone else was staring right at her.
The kilted man and his dog.
His ghost dog.
Something she was quite sure of because although the old man sat calmly on a bench, smiling at her, his Jack Russell dashed about on stubby little legs, sniffing the damp cobbles and—Heaven help her—she could see the nearby stone wall right through him!
In fact, when the man raised his walking stick in cheerful greeting, she couldn’t help but notice that he, too, appeared rather transparent. She could see the loch-front cottages behind him, including the detail of the roof thatch and the colors of the doors, the deep reds and blues standing out against thick white-washed walls.
Jilly stared at man and dog.
They were ghosts!
And she was going the other way.
Spinning around, she sprinted for the road. But the instant she nipped into it, she saw the man again. He stood about halfway between her and the inn, admiring the flowers crowding the steps of one of the houses.
The Jack Russell danced at his heels.
See-through as before.
“O-o-oh, no!” Jilly ran in the only direction left to her, dashing onto the narrow stretch of shore beside the pier.
But that escape, too, proved futile.
Haggis sat smack in the middle of the strand, clearly waiting for her. He had a red ribbon-tied scroll attached to his collar and Jilly knew without looking that the message was for her.
A swish of Haggis’s tail confirmed it.
Jilly stared at him. She was sure she didn’t want to know what the note said. What she wanted was to be back in her bed at the inn with the door locked and the covers pulled up over her head.
Haggis seized the moment, using her hesitation to leap to his feet and bound over to her. He nudged her leg with a cold, wet nose, peering at her expectantly.
His solidity alone kept her in place.
As did her certainty that if she went anywhere else, the old man and his terrier would reappear.
Jilly shuddered.
Then she caved and reached to retrieve her note.
Luss Pier, aboard the Salty Seal
To a certain blond, blue-eyed American . . . (I’ve yet to learn your name)
Dare I, Haggis, ask a special favour? The human who belongs to me, one most likeable chap named Kieran, is refusing to giv
e me the haggis that is tucked into a picnic hamper on his boat unless you join him in partaking of the other treats he’s prepared. Since I am known to become very unhappy when deprived of haggis, I hereby beg you to agree.
In high hopes of your cooperation,
Haggis
Jilly couldn’t help but smile. She looked down at the dog and for reasons she was sure had only to do with him, her heart started thudding. Of course, she wasn’t flustered because of the man she knew had penned the note. And it certainly wasn’t because of that particular man’s soft lilting voice. Nor was it the way his eyes twinkled when he smiled. From what she knew of Scots, they all had such burrs and it wouldn’t surprise her if eye twinkles didn’t rank a close second on their list of dangerous attributes.
Dimples and dogs were on the list, too.
Haggis leaned in to her then, proving the canine bit of her theory. She was smiling, after all, and she’d even stopped worrying about the ghosts. Who could fret about phantoms when a tail-wagging border collie seemed determined to lavish his affection on you?
“He likes you.”
Jilly screeched as she jumped and spun around, almost colliding with Haggis’s owner.
True to his race, he grinned, eye twinkles and dimples very apparent.
She frowned. “Do you always sneak up on people?”
“Only those who appear lost.” His gaze flicked to the note. “Has Haggis persuaded you to join us?”
Her fingers tightened on the scroll. “I wasn’t lost and—”
Haggis’s bark made a liar of her.
His master’s eye twinkle said he knew it.
She tucked the note into her jacket pocket. “I knew exactly where I was going.”
“Then why did I see you heading down the promenade only to swing back and run for the road?” Kieran lifted a brow. “You then turned again and sprinted onto the beach.”
“So?” Jilly tried to look as if she did such things every day. “I wanted some exercise. I’ve gained weight on this trip.”
The Scot’s lips twitched.
She flushed. Actually she’d lost a few pounds. Traipsing up and down the super-steep Royal Mile in Edinburgh had surely zapped at least two and all the castles and cliff-top ruins she’d explored had taken care of the rest. She’d never been in better shape.
Something about the way Kieran was looking at her told her that he thought so, too. In fact, if he wasn’t the world’s greatest actor, his expression indicated he found her attractive, maybe even beautiful.
Jilly glanced at the loch, needing to break eye contact with him.
Add knowing how to look at a woman and make her feel special to a Scot’s arsenal of tricks.
She took a deep breath and determined to remain unaffected.
“I think you saw me on the pier and got cold feet.” He reached down to stroke Haggis’s ears. “You were running back to the inn and—”
“Are you always so concerned with what strangers do?” She swiped at her hair. “And I wasn’t—”
“I find myself concerned when that stranger is you.” His voice went a shade deeper. “I’d like to know your name.”
“It’s Jilly.” She glared at him, ignoring the way he made her pulse leap. “Jilly Pepper. And I wasn’t running from you. I-I saw a ghost—two ghosts, an old man and a dog. I was trying to get away from them.”
If she’d hoped to shock him, she’d failed.
Far from backing away and leaving her alone, he stepped closer. “Ah, well, Jilly lass, then I really would urge you to join Haggis and I. Last time I checked, there weren’t any ghosts on the Salty Seal.”
“You don’t think I’m crazy?” She looked at him as if she wished he thought just that.
Kieran bit back a chuckle. “It’d be a rare Scotsman who’d doubt you saw something odd. We’re born knowing there’s more in this world than can be readily explained. Now”—he decided to take a chance and grip her elbow, gently—“if you’re still hedging about letting me show you the loch, then, aye, I might think that’s crazy.”
“I was expecting a boat tour.” Her gaze went past the pier and boathouse to where the Salty Seal bobbed in the water, bright, innocent, and notably empty. “A crowd of sightseers, not just you, me, and Haggis.”
Kieran felt a twinge of guilt.
It passed with lightning speed.
Across the loch, late afternoon sun edged the clouds and a few slanting rays shone on the mica sand that fringed one of the small wooded isles where he hoped to take her for a picnic. He smiled, the Gael in him seeing the turn in the weather as a good portent for him and the American tourist who, for reasons he couldn’t explain, struck him as so much more.
The way Haggis had taken to her spoke volumes. He ran circles around them as they approached the pier. Looking and acting younger than his nine years, he held his tail high and his eyes sparkled with excitement.
But if Kieran wished to read anything deeper in his dog’s attachment to the girl or even in her apparent agreement to go out on the loch with them, his hopes plummeted when they passed the boathouse and neared the Salty Seal’s mooring.
She stopped short, pulling her arm from his grasp. “I saw a poster on the boathouse. It had your tour times and four o’clock was one of them. So”—she eyed the boat suspiciously—“where is everybody?”
Haggis sat down and watched him.
Jilly folded her arms, the look on her face proving her to be more persistent than he would have believed.
“I cancelled the afternoon tour,” Kieran admitted, opting for honesty. “Remember I told you there was a story behind my boat’s name?” He smiled, hoping to catch her interest. “The boat is named after Salty the seal. He swam into the loch after losing his way in River Leven. He’s been here ever since and is quite a character.”
“A seal in Loch Lomond?” She blinked.
Kieran nodded. “He’s a fine gray seal with an appetite for fish as great as Haggis’s for haggis. The local fishermen tried to catch him and return him to the sea, but Salty eluded them. Finally some of us pitched in and bought Salty a fishing license. Just”—he winked—“to make certain that no one got any funny ideas.”
She smiled then, the sight warming Kieran to his toes.
He grinned back at her, feeling ridiculously elated. What was it about her that made him so determined to win her heart? And, he realized with a shock, that’s exactly what he was hoping to do.
“That still doesn’t tell me why you cancelled your afternoon tour.”
The statement proved he wasn’t succeeding.
Kieran did his best not to frown. “Salty was spotted on my earlier tour, the one that went out right after Haggis ate your lunch,” he said, going for a half-truth this time.
He had seen the seal, but he’d cancelled the later tour because he wanted to be alone with her.
“I thought,” he began, starting to untie the Salty Seal’s lines, “our chances of seeing him would be greater without a crowd.”
“I see.”
Kieran risked a glance at her as Haggis leapt into the boat. She’d lifted a hand to her brow and was scanning the loch, clearly keen to catch a glimpse of Salty.
Knowing it was now or never, Kieran jumped into the boat and turned to reach for her, hoping she’d accept his outstretched hands.
When she did, his heart soared. “If we leave now, we might find him on the far side of the loch.” He lifted her on board, scarce believing his luck. “He was basking on a rock near the island I’d like to show you.”
He indicated a wicker hamper under one of the thwarts. “We can have a picnic there. It’s my way of making up for Haggis ruining your lunch.”
“And Haggis?” She pulled the crumpled note from her pocket and waved it. “Will he finally get to eat his haggis?”
“Och! I’m thinking he’ll be too full.” Kieran laughed and nudged an empty dish with his foot. “He got into the haggis supply before I even—”
He broke off, remembe
ring what he’d written. Equally damning, the picnic hamper was tightly secured with leather straps. Haggis’s haggis dish sat in plain sight, the smeared remains of his favorite treat irrefutable evidence that he hadn’t been denied a thing.
Haggis barked, sounding amused.
Heat shot up Kieran’s neck. “Er . . .” He tripped over his tongue. “I can explain—”
“Please don’t.” Jilly settled herself on a bench and started smiling again. “It’s been a long time since a man went to such trouble to get my attention.”
She reached to pet Haggis when he thumped down beside her. “I’m quite flattered and”—she looked out over the loch as the boat started away from the pier—“a seal sighting and a picnic sound wonderful.”
Kieran grinned and swung the Salty Seal toward their destination. If the loch gods were kind and with a little help from his four-legged friend, this afternoon’s outing would be the first of many.
Jilly Pepper was a keeper.
He had no intention of letting her go.
CHAPTER THREE
Hours later, Jilly sat on her bed at the Colquhoun Arms and kept telling herself there was no such thing as love at first sight. Even so, she couldn’t resist slipping to her feet and going to the dresser where her digital camera and a handful of smooth, round pebbles proved her wrong.
Photos didn’t lie.
And the way her breath caught when she touched the stones only confirmed her suspicion. Gathered on the shore of the islet where Kieran had taken her for a picnic, the pebbles were more than mementoes.
They transported her back to the moment she’d collected them and heard Kieran’s shout that he’d spotted Salty. She’d thrust the pebbles into her pocket and grabbed her camera, aiming it to where the seal frolicked in the water. Enchanted, she’d watched as he rolled belly up and peered at them with his round, inquisitive eyes.
“O-o-oh!” she’d cried, snapping pictures as she ran to Kieran at the water’s edge.
Losing her footing on the wet shingle, she’d plowed right into him. He’d whipped around, catching her by the shoulders and then held her just a breath longer than was necessary for her to regain her balance.