Five Days in Skye: A Novel (15 page)

Andrea slammed the handset into the cradle and stomped back to the bathroom to turn off the taps before the bathtub overflowed. As if his most accomplished account executive needed babysitting. Apparently, all it took was one cretin who didn’t understand the word
no
to erase the memory of the hundreds of sales she’d made for Morrison. She flexed her hand, pleased to find it didn’t hurt anymore. Hopefully, the creep’s sore jaw had persisted longer than her bruised knuckles.

She stripped off her workout clothes and stepped into the overfilled bathtub, where she forced herself to let the hot water soak away her irritation. Leave it to Michael to destroy her one peaceful morning with business.

If she only had one more day on earth, would she really want to spend it thinking about Michael and the next big deal?

She braced her bare toes against the porcelain lip of the tub. A week ago, she would have said yes. Being here in Skye with James would have felt like a waste of time, a distraction. But a distraction from what? From her career? From her goal of becoming vice president? She wanted it no less now than she had before, but it was a means to an end. What was supposed to be waiting for her across the finish line? Peace? Happiness? Time to enjoy her life?

For the first time, she wondered if the unencumbered existence she had built for herself, free from attachments or obligations, was as appealing as she’d always thought it to be. What point was there in success when there was no one to share it with?

She wasn’t going to answer those questions in ten minutes in a tub of warm water. For once, though, she knew very clearly what she wanted from the day. She wanted to bask in the beauty of her surroundings. She wanted to breathe in clean salt air and feel the sun on her face. She wanted to walk hand in hand with James, have his arms around her, feel his lips on hers.

Acknowledging those desires set her heart fluttering like a trapped bird. She forced the panicked feeling down and made her breathing even out again, even though she felt like she stood on a precipice. She couldn’t see the bottom, didn’t know if jumping would earn her a soft landing or dash her against the rocks. Could she summon the courage to leap?

Chapter Twenty-One

James washed quickly, his mind occupied with the conversation he’d had with Andrea atop the hill. The more he learned about her, the more he saw how much the secret in her past had affected every aspect of her life. It seemed like she had turned her back on the person she had once been: her music, her faith, even her family. His heart ached at every new glimpse of pain. He had known plenty of personal tragedy in his life, but he always had his beliefs to fall back on, even in the times he didn’t live by them.

Andrea hadn’t given up, though. She was seeking, waiting for something to prove her wrong. Something to make her believe again.

He just hoped he hadn’t missed his chance. Instead of being an example of a man of faith, he had just reinforced her skewed image of him by letting her believe the lies and speculation for so long. Truthfully, he hadn’t done much to show her otherwise.

He hated when Ian was right. Not that James would ever admit it to him.

He pulled on jeans and an Oxford shirt and toweled his wet hair dry before he sat down at the desk to call Bridget. Fortunately, it sounded as if it had been a quiet week at the office with both him and Ian in Skye.

“How’s Kyle?” he asked.

“Out of ICU, though they’re still watching him closely. Jonathan set his family up in a flat in Islington for now. He figured it would be less conspicuous than a hotel.”

“Good. Let me know if anything changes?”

“Of course. Has Ian heard anything from his friend at the Met?”

James had forgotten to ask amidst the drama of the previous night. “I’ll find out when I see him later. I’ll be out for the rest of the day, but I’ll check in tomorrow.”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually taking some time off.”

“Why would I need to take time off? Every day’s a holiday with you, Bridget.”

She snorted. “I’ve known you too long for those lines to work. Just tell me this—is she pretty?”

“Gorgeous. But don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my work-centered image.”

“Good-
bye
, James.”

He hung up the phone, grinning. At least he didn’t need to be concerned with what his assistant thought of him. He’d taken her daughter to a network party years ago. Of all people, Bridget knew what kind of man he really was.

Blast Ian. He would be continually second-guessing himself now. It was so much easier when he didn’t give it a thought.

He made two minor adjustments to his May calendar, and then started making lunch in the cottage’s tiny kitchen. While Andrea met with Ian, James had picked up the makings of what he hoped would be an impressive picnic. He was just packing the last items into the hamper when Andrea rapped on the door. She wore next-to-no makeup, her hair curling wildly in the damp sea air, but he found her effortless beauty even more appealing than her polished business exterior image.

“Right on time,” he said. “I just finished.”

She sniffed. “I smell fish.”

“After last night, I assumed you liked it.”

“I do. Besides, even if I didn’t, it would probably still be wonderful.” She trailed off. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Am I?” He smiled carelessly to disguise the fact he had indeed been staring and wondering why in the world he’d ever agreed not to kiss her. “Let me get my coat and the hamper, and we’ll head up to the house. I’ll try to make it quick. I have someplace amazing to show you.”

“You’re going to torture me with that statement and not tell me where we’re going?”

“Of course I am. But believe me, it’s worth the wait.”

“It better be after that build-up.” She winked at him and turned on her heel toward the door.

Had Andrea actually just winked at him? A slow smile spread over his face. He picked up the hamper and followed her out. Whatever the reason for her suddenly light mood, he wouldn’t complain.

Even the sight of Ian’s car parked in Muriel’s driveway couldn’t dampen his spirits, though he prayed his brother’s naturally reserved nature would prevent a scene in front of Andrea. He needed to talk to him about Kyle, and that would be difficult if he was tempted to take a swing at him.

The aroma of baking met them when they entered the front door. “Hello?”

“Andrea!” Emmy squealed and darted into the reception room, once more nearly bowling her over.

James chuckled and shut the front door. Once, he’d been Emmy’s favorite visitor, but Andrea had clearly usurped that status. “What smells so good, Em? Your mum baking again?”

“I made muffins.” Serena poked her head out of the dining room. “Join us while they’re still warm.”

“C’mon, Andrea!” Emmy grabbed Andrea’s hand and half-led, half-dragged her toward the dining room. James shook his head. They’d be lucky to make it to his intended picnic spot before nightfall, especially if Emmy managed to convince Andrea to play the piano before they left.

The whole family gathered at the table around a basket of blueberry muffins and a large platter of sliced fruit. Ian rose immediately, and James stiffened until he realized he was just being polite. That was Ian. Old-fashioned to the core.

“May I speak with you outside for a moment?”

Ian nodded and tossed his napkin onto the table, his expression giving away nothing. He followed James out to the front steps.

“I talked to Bridget this morning. Kyle is out of ICU. Have you heard anything from the Met?”

Ian relaxed perceptibly. Apparently, he was as tense over the situation as James. “I got a call this morning. They know who they did it. They’re sitting on his grandmother’s flat. My friend will call me when they pick him up.”

“Good.” That was something, at least. “Jon’s got the family settled in Islington for now.”

“That’s good to know. Thanks for the update.” Ian turned toward the door and paused with his hand on the door. “James …”

James didn’t know what Ian saw in his expression, but whatever it was made him change his mind. He shook his head and headed back inside.

Andrea was sitting at the dining table with Muriel and Serena, eating a muffin and drinking tea. Serena and Andrea erupted into laughter, which they quickly squelched when the men reentered the room.

“What’s so funny?” James asked suspiciously, looking between the two.

“Nothing at all.” Andrea tried for an innocent expression and failed miserably. “Since your services aren’t required here this morning, does that mean we can go?”

“It does. Let’s get our coats.”

Andrea tried to pry their destination out of James all the way to Portree, but James refused to give her more than meager hints. Instead, he took her hand and told her stories about summers spent on Skye, while on holiday from boarding school. For once, she didn’t flinch every time he recaptured her hand after shifting, and she twined her fingers with his in an unexpected show of familiarity.

He had no idea what had changed to make her so affectionate, but he wasn’t going to complain. Her hand felt good in his, soft but not delicate. Small women made him feel like he was going to accidentally crush them. Cassie had been positively petite, but Andrea’s hand was strong and solid, a pianist’s hand.

“Where are we, exactly?” Andrea frowned out the window at the changing landscape. The road was single-track, just wide enough for one car, with small lay-bys every so often to accommodate oncoming traffic.

“Outside of Uig. Just wait. You’ll see.”

The road wound downward into a little glen. Andrea rolled down the window for a better view of the landscape. Even though James preferred the east coast’s mournful, craggy features, this part of Skye possessed an enchanting air. A carpet of bright green grass covered the rolling hills, as if velvet had been draped over the landscape, creating odd conical peaks and valleys. Little patches of trees were beginning to leaf out with their spring foliage, and short, scrubby bushes huddled together on the hillsides. In the distance, white horned sheep clustered in the meadow while their spring lambs frolicked nearby.

“This is Fairy Glen,” James said, giving her hand a squeeze.

He pulled off onto the grass and parked. This early in the season, there were no other cars, so they would have the scenery to themselves. Andrea climbed out and turned in a slow circle to take in the panorama. He watched her over the roof. Something about her expression reminded him of himself when he had first come back to the island after years of absence. Even heartbroken over the death of his father and the split from his fiancée, the landscape had roused something inside he had kept buried for years.

His dad would have said the land recognized its own. There had been MacDonalds on Skye for over a thousand years, even before the castles and keeps that now lay ruined around the island. Whatever it was, the pace and the pressures of his life in London had dissipated like the morning mist was burned off by the sun. If he could have seen his own face, he thought he might have looked like Andrea right now.

He retrieved the picnic hamper from the car’s boot and circled to her side. “Your castle awaits, my lady.”

“Castle?”

He pointed to a dark shape jutting above the hills in the distance. “Castle Ewen. It’s not precisely a castle, it’s just a rock formation, but it has the best view of the valley.”

Andrea pulled on her jacket, and they headed down the road toward the tower. James reached for her hand, and she laced her fingers with his again, as if she had been expecting it. Soon they left the road in favor of the bracken ridge, the foliage muffling their footfalls. A few insects buzzed in the meadow, and birds called occasionally in the trees. Sheep bleated in the distance.

James stole glances at Andrea as they walked, impressed by the fact that she didn’t feel the need to fill every moment of silence with idle chatter. She seemed content to soak up the stillness, to take in every detail of the landscape. Overhead, a raptor circled, soaring on outstretched wings.

He tugged her to a stop and pointed. “Look. A golden eagle. You can tell by the wings.”

She turned her face to the sky, watching its path against the scattering of fluffy clouds. “It’s incredible.”

“It’s rare,” he said. “They nest on the island, but they’re hard to find. I’ve never even seen one.”

She met his eyes and smiled. “Maybe this place really does hold some magic.”

She looked so appealing, her hair windblown and her eyes sparkling, it was all he could do not to kiss her right there. Instead, he just smiled back and agreed. “Maybe.”

They tramped through the grass for almost an hour, winding through the small valleys and passing grassy, cone-shaped hillocks. Andrea made little exclamations of delight as she spotted rabbits in the brush or clusters of wildflowers just beginning to emerge from the green carpet. Finally, they rejoined the path that circled around the tower. Up close, the rock formation stretched high into the sky, far taller than it had looked from the distance. Stubborn, hardy foliage clung to the rock sides, and a long narrow path led steeply up into the cleft of the formation.

“Our final destination,” he said, pointing to the top.

The climb was short, but steep, and the path squeezed through a narrow opening in the rocks. James followed behind Andrea, ready to catch her if she slipped, but she scrambled up the slope with the ease of a practiced hiker. He emerged onto the flat, grassy top seconds behind her.

The view of the glen spread out around them. A small loch reflected back the sun and sky, a glimmering blue pocket in the broad expanse of green. James moved toward the edge, but Andrea remained firmly rooted in place.

“Come, Andrea, you should see the view from here.”

Andrea crept forward slowly.

He threw her a quizzical look. “What’s wrong? Are you afraid of heights?”

“Not afraid exactly. Just wary. I’m okay if there’s a handrail or something, but standing this close to a sheer drop-off …”

“It’s not that steep.” When she still didn’t move, he held out a hand. “I promise I won’t let you fall.”

Reluctantly, she moved forward and grasped his hand. Not exactly far enough to be in any real danger but close enough to see the rocky sweep down to the base of the cliff.

“This makes me feel a little ill,” she said, but at least she was smiling.

James set down the hamper. He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her securely, pulling her back against him. “Is that better?”

It wasn’t quite how he’d imagined getting her into his arms, but he wasn’t going to quibble over details. He breathed in her perfume and momentarily lost his train of thought. Her heart thrummed against him, but she relaxed slightly in his arms.

“This really is an inconvenient problem for sightseeing,” she said.

“I’m finding it rather convenient myself.”

She elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Ach, woman! You’re a lot stronger than you look, you know.” He let go of her and rubbed his injured ribs ruefully.

Andrea gasped and pulled his arms around her again. “I didn’t say you could let go. What if I’d fallen off the edge?”

“From six feet away? I hardly think it constitutes a risk.”

She twisted around to look at him. “You are enjoying this.”

“Immensely, and in more ways than one.”

He thought that would earn him another elbow, but instead, she laughed. The sound seeped into him like the warmth of the spring sun. She had laughed before, but rarely so freely or so openly. They stayed that way for another minute or two, taking in the spectacular view off the side, and then she said, “I think that’s about all I can take. You promised a picnic?”

“All right, if you insist.” He let go of her, though he still kept a steadying arm on her elbow until she was safely away from the edge. The flush had crept back into her cheeks, and she avoided his eye as she looked for a likely spot for their picnic. Either she was embarrassed by her fear of heights, or she hadn’t been quite as afraid as she claimed.

She tramped around the top of the tower as if carefully considering the location for their picnic, but from the slightly unsteady way she’d stepped away from him, he figured she was using the excuse to put distance between them. “How about here?”