A Scot Like You (The MacLarens of Balmorie, 2) (9 page)

"I think you're right. But it doesn't sound like it's going well now. How do we get them together?"

Hamish's eyes went narrow and his mouth grim. "Don't ye worry about that, luv. Leave it to ole Hamish."

Fran's eyes practically twinkled as she grabbed his bearded face and kissed him. "I trust, ye, Hamish. These lads will be settled in no time."

Hamish swatted her on the rear as she walked away. "Enjoy yer visit with our lass. Tell Sara her ole da sends his love."

Kate woke with a pounding heart.

Sex dream. Devin. Dear Lord.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her skin tingled and her pulse pounded in all the right places, creating an unsatisfied ache that grated on her nerves. Damn it! This was the last thing she needed. The whole point of retreating to bed had been to avoid all thoughts of the big, bad Highlander. Now images of hot, sweaty sex flashed through her mind like a pornographic slide projector. "Great," she muttered, getting up, stripping, and heading for the shower.

The cold water shocked the sexual haze right out of her, and by the time she was showering, the dream had faded into the background and she felt more like her usual self. She'd slept until eleven, which she hadn't done in years, and was starving. After making a quick sandwich, she took her lunch to the patio and admired the loch as she ate.

The temp had to be hovering around seventy. Perfect weather. Maybe she'd go fishing or head into the village for some shopping. She still hadn't gotten anything for Gram or Riley…

An engine echoed, growing louder with every second. Kate straightened, hoping to hell the approaching vehicle passed by.

But it stopped. A car door opened and shut.

Please don't let it be him.

"Hello!" Hamish's booming voice rang out.

Relief slid down her spine. "Back here!"

He came around the cottage and Kate couldn't help but smile. Hamish was so full of energy and life, and happiness. He was sharp-witted, too, and she hadn't forgotten his penchant for matchmaking. "Fine day, eh?"

"It's beautiful." She eyed him for a second, wondering why he was here. "Is this a social call or a matchmaking call?"

Hamish burst out laughing. He held up his hands in surrender. "Already been scolded by Dev. No more matchin' for me."

Somehow she didn't buy it. "Social call then?"

"Of a sorts. Brought ye a gift." He turned and started walking, gesturing for her to follow him around to the truck.

"A boat?"

"Well, now, it's just a wee thing. Easy enough for one person ta handle. Though ye might like ta paddle around the loch some."

"Actually, Hamish, that's not a bad idea at all." In fact, it was just what she needed. A nice relaxing day on the loch.

"Thought so," he said with a wink. "I'll back her up to the water and get her unloaded."

Once Hamish backed his old truck to a good spot down shore, Kate helped him slide the fiberglass boat off the bed of the truck and into the water. It was lighter than she expected. The size of a canoe but wider in the middle with one bench at the back near a small motor. The rest was open. "Sara, my daughter, used ta fill it with pillows and blankets, take a book, and spend all day lazin' on the water."

Kate was already envisioning how lovely that would be, just floating on the water, napping, reading, staring up at the sky and watching the clouds go by. The way the loch was shaped, with its curves and coves, she'd have no trouble finding a bit of privacy.

"Fran made ye this." Hamish pulled a large picnic basket from the passenger seat and then placed it in the boat. "Around the point there," he said gesturing to the tree-lined bit of land jutting into the water, "and ye'll come upon a small sheltered bay. There's an island in the middle. The lads used ta camp there. A good place ta stretch yer legs, have supper, and watch the sunset."

Kate wasn't sure what to say. His and Fran's generosity was humbling. She wasn't used to people she barely knew going out of their way for her. "I don't know what to say, Hamish. This was really nice. Thank you. And please tell Fran the same."

"Was no trouble at all, lass. For either of us. Just enjoy yer day."

"Thank you. I will," she said with a smile.

It didn't take her long to fill the boat with pillows and blankets. She grabbed her jacket and quickly scanned the small selection of books in the cottage. She'd read some, others were heavy classics that weren't right for the day she had in mind, and the rest were travel books and guides. She chose a book of poetry by great Scottish poets and then grabbed
Highlander's Harlot
.

Chapter 10

The rest of her day passed by in a sun drenched dream. The sky was blue and dotted with white clouds. The loch was smooth and quiet, reflecting everything off its surface like the finest of mirrors. Trees hugged the waterline, competing for space with large boulders.

Reading
Lady of the Lake
by Sir Walter Scot in Scotland, on a loch, in the highlands filled her with a deep sense of wistfulness and romanticism. Kate reclined in the boat, propped her feet on the top edge and tucked her hands behind her head to stare at the clouds above her. Her thoughts tried valiantly to steer clear of Devin, but he was in the forefront of her mind and, unfortunately, in her heart.

Why not let go? Why not take happiness where she could find it? She was in one of the most beautiful spots on Earth, in a place she loved to the very core of her being, and maybe she wasn't really living life to the fullest. Holden had done a number on her, but she wasn't washed up. She was young and healthy and, yes, a romantic at heart. And there was a broad-shouldered Scot who looked at her with hazel eyes filled with solemn strength, intelligence, and desire—the deep, dark, intense kind, the kind that had the same force as a comet blazing across the sky.

With a sigh, she sat up, and picked up the paddles, not wanting to break the mood by using the motor. The island was behind her, the sun would be going down soon, and her stomach clenched with hunger.

When she finally made it to the tiny pebbled beach, she used the paddles and dug deep into the floor of the loch to push the boat as close to the shore as possible. It wasn't close enough, so she took off her sneakers, threw them on shore and then jumped into the calf-deep water.

Yep. Still cold.

Hurrying, she grabbed Double H, the basket and blankets, and then made her way onto the beach to a cleared area that had obviously seen a lot of use over the years. The interior of the island was filled with tall pines and she could see an old fort and some crude looking benches just inside the tree line. Kate smiled. She could imagine the MacLaren boys playing there as children. What a rough and tumble bunch they must have been.

In the clearing where she stood there was a small pile of sticks and logs next to a fire pit. Too bad she hadn't thought to grab some matches. With one of the blankets spread next to the fire pit, she sat down and opened the basket, immediately impressed. Fran obviously erred on the you-can-never-have-enough side of food preparation. There was enough in the basket for at least three people. Along with two bottles of water and a bottle of white wine with two glasses. No wonder the thing was so heavy.

As Kate opened a container of pasta and dug in, a twig snapped in the forest. Chewing paused, she listened. Probably nothing. She was on a tiny island. Not an ideal habitat for large wildlife. She was fine. The island was gorgeous, there was a mountain of food to eat, a sexy book to read, and wine to wash it all down. Life couldn't get any better.

Until a huge pile of sticks dropped down next to her blanket. Kate screamed, fumbled the container of pasta and shot off the blanket as Terry raced around her legs.

Devin stood there, looking as aggravated as she was shocked.

"What the hell?" she demanded, breathless, heart racing.

"You're in my spot."

"Your spot!"

He frowned, lips drawing into a thin line. Otherwise, he looked pretty damn hot standing there in work boots, cargo pants, and a flannel shirt hanging open to reveal a white T-shirt underneath. He looked wild and outdoorsy, and utterly male.

As they stared at each other, the situation seemed to dawn on them simultaneous.

"
Hamish
," they both said in unison.

Devin swiped a hand through his hair and let out a fed up breath.

"How did you get here?" she asked.

"My boat's just around that rock. It's an easier place to moor." He eyed her small craft. "You paddled all the way?"

"Been on the water since lunch. Eventually made it here." She looked down at the blanket. The container was overturned and the pasta spilled onto the dirt. Fair game for the dogs. "This explains why Fran packed so much food."

Devin's head swung around. "Food?"

She stifled a laugh. "Yeah. Guess she was in on it too. Might as well help yourself."

Devin set to work setting up the sticks and logs in the shallow pit. Kate shooed the dogs off, rinsed the empty container in the water, and then returned to shake out the blanket. Double H went tumbling into the dirt, landing right next to Devin's boot as he knelt to light the fire. He glanced down. His brows lifted high as he turned his attention on her.

Kate wanted to die. Her fingers curled around the blanket and she stifled a mortified groan. His deep chuckle just made things worse. Figures. She should just realize and accept the fact that things would never be normal or easy or relaxing around him.

Whatever.

She spread the blanket as Devin tucked the paperback into the back waistband of his pants.

"Give it back."

He stopped blowing on the tiny flames and gave her an arched look. "Come and get it."

The words were spoken deep and evenly, and came with such a punch that Kate gaped for a second. "Well, it's my book, so . . . I'd like it back."

As he stood and removed the book from his waistband, she stepped back. It looked so small in his big hands. He stared at the cover a long moment, then did the same with her. Kate's throat went dry. What the hell was he thinking?

"We're going to eat," he told her. "Watch the sun set. And then I'm going to read
Highlander's Harlot
, to you in my best Scottish accent."

Her mouth fell open. The romantic-loving girl inside of her squealed with pleasure. Then she saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Bastard!

Devin laughed and tossed her the book. She caught it. "Real funny," she said, glaring as her stomach went feather-light at the transformation on his face. The grin was blinding and sexy as hell.

"And you're way too easy." He sat on the blanket and rooted inside the basket.

Off balance yet again and more humiliated than she had when he first saw the book, Kate didn't appreciate being made fun off, or being the butt of his joke. And more than anything she didn't like the way she'd reacted to his sexy words and smile. "Who knew you had a sense of humor," she said petulantly, plopping down on the blanket.

Devin shrugged. "It happens. Rarely these days, but it happens."

Well great. It was hard to stay mad at him when he put it like that. She knew he'd had a hell of a time, and him finding laughter where he could, well, she couldn't fault him for that. Though, still. At her expense—not so great.

"Sorry," he said as if reading her mind. "You're wound so tight, Kate." He bit into a roast beef sandwich. "It's like a—" he glanced at the water for a second— "siren's call. Can't resist."

Her eyes rolled. "I'm not the only one wound up tight. You just show it differently."

"How so?" he asked, mouth full.

"You wear your silence like a suit of armor. Makes you seem unapproachable. You're locked up tight, too, and don't let your guard down." She thought of the times she'd been witness to just that. "Often," she amended.

He popped the cork to the wine. "Fair enough."

She rose to her knees, leaned forward, and retrieved the glasses from the strap inside the basket and held them out to be filled. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

She handed him his glass after he corked the bottle. "Were you always like that? Quiet, I mean."

After taking a drink, he set the glass on top of one of the plastic containers. The dogs had taken up residence by the fire. "You mean before the military?" Kate nodded. "Yeah. Was usually the more quiet one of the bunch, but . . . war . . . it made me more so I guess. It's like you're living in a bubble." He grabbed a stick and poked at the fire. "Every day might be your last or the guy's next to you or all of you for that matter. So it dials you in, nothing else factors in but your job, and your men, and you learn to shut out a lot of stuff."

She was a little shocked he'd said so much about it. "I guess that makes it hard. To come back and relate to our world."