She motioned vaguely, pretending she had it all worked out. “Um…Arthur’s Seat.”
Lachlan’s brow furrowed. “With the urn?”
She looked down. Oops. She covered up quickly. “Yes, in fact. Trevor would like the view. Or is Arthur’s Seat off-limits to me too?”
Lachlan looked pained, and she almost regretted her sharp tone. But then she remembered his reaction when the island of Gleninnis had come up. He’d been totally, utterly uncompromising and condescending.
Her inner dragon sniffed. He was being sweet, thinking of our safety.
Yeah, well, she could look after herself.
When he spoke, his voice was soft, even apologetic. “The island isn’t off-limits to you. It’s off-limits to everyone.”
Dammit, did his smoky voice have to tickle her ears and make her cheeks heat?
“Why?”
He looked at her, clearly torn. His chest rose, then fell, and his eyes hit the pavement. “I’ll explain.” He glanced at the surrounding crowds. “Later. It’s a long drive.”
A cop-out, and she knew it. What was with all the secrecy?
Still, she was in no mood to argue, so she continued her determined march to…wherever her feet took her.
“It’s a long way to Arthur’s Seat,” he pointed out.
“I know,” she growled.
He pointed to the low heels she’d worn to the lawyer’s office. “The trail is rough.”
“Ha. I’m from Wyoming. I could make it up Ben Nevis in these things.”
He considered that quietly, then said the most unexpected thing. “Trevor loved it there — Wyoming. A second home, he called it.”
And dammit, the lump jumped back into her throat. How different her life would have been if Trevor hadn’t stumbled across her dad’s distillery, all those years ago. Somehow, chance had led him there to start not just a business partnership, but a beautiful family friendship.
Not just chance, her dragon whispered. Destiny.
She bit her lip. Once upon a time, she’d trusted destiny — the force that had led her to Lachlan, that first summer she’d visited Scotland. He lived on an estate near Trevor’s, and the first time she and Lachlan had laid eyes on each other, they’d both stopped in their tracks.
Destiny, her dragon whispered.
At the time, she’d thought so too. And two flirty weeks later, when she and Lachlan had finally given in to burning desire, her soul had sung with certainty. Lachlan was her destined mate — the one man on earth fated to be her forever companion. She’d been sure he felt the same, but then…
She winced, pushing away the memory of that morning after. Then she trained her eyes on the craggy hillside straight ahead. Arthur’s Seat, here I come.
Lachlan trudged along at her side. “Can I carry something for you?”
She hugged the urn and box of instructions closer. “No thank you.” Then she made a shooing motion. “Honestly, I need some time alone.” When he scanned the sky like a hawk, she rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me whatever danger lurks on Gleninnis is here too.”
“Hard to say.”
She studied him from the corner of her eye. Was he tuned in to genuine danger, or had the military left him paranoid?
“I really need some time alone,” she insisted. “I’m in a fragile mental state right now.”
Lachlan laughed out loud. “Fragile? You? Try again, lass.”
She elbowed him in the ribs. Well, she tried, but her elbow just bounced off those steely abs. Worse, the physical contact gave her dragon all kinds of bad ideas.
I’d be happy to try again, her dragon purred, maneuvering closer.
Just in case, she pushed him an arm’s length away. “I’ll be fine. And you have to get back to whatshername.”
He cocked his head. “Who?”
She rolled her hand in circles, trying to recall the redhead’s name. “Penelope.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it, and she wondered what was going through his mind.
Slowly, he stepped back. “I suppose I should.”
Holly made a face. He supposed? Poor Penelope. She was probably infatuated with Lachlan, while he barely seemed to recall her existence. He was bound to break the poor woman’s heart the way he’d broken Holly’s, so long ago. There had to be a long list of women between her and Penelope who spent weepy nights wondering what might have been. Who knew? Maybe she, Penelope, and all the others could form some kind of club.
“Look.” He heaved the deep breath of a man preparing to bring up an uncomfortable subject. Which, for Lachlan, meant any matter of the heart. Even big, gruff Trevor had recognized that.
Poor boy. Quite a tough father, and his mother died young.
She’d known that from the start, but she’d been sure she could get past his invisible armor. But, no. All she’d gotten past were his clothes, and only for one sizzling night. She’d never gotten close to his heart, and she damn well wasn’t going to try again.
She stuck up a hand, saving both of them the awkwardness of The Talk.
“It’s fine. No problem. We can leave tomorrow. As soon as we take care of Trevor’s wishes, I’ll be on my way. I promise.”
The promise was as much to herself as to him, because the longer she spent gazing into those mesmerizing gray eyes, the more she was tempted to risk everything.
A wailing sound burst out, and Holly nearly jumped out of her skin. Then she exhaled, spotting a dozen bagpipers. They marched six abreast, blasting “Scotland the Brave.” Behind them, a fresh group of protesters surged forward, swinging flags and blowing whistles.
Holly sidestepped to avoid them. Lachlan followed, shielding her from the crowd. A good thing, too, because she ran out of space, coming up against a police barricade. She skirted it and made it to the sidewalk, but the crowd continued to swell.
“Oi! Easy there, lads,” someone called in alarm.
But the protesters kept coming in droves, squeezing away all breathing space.
“Over there.” Lachlan gestured to a shallow niche in a shop wall.
How long they sheltered as hundreds of chanting protesters streamed past, Holly didn’t know. Five minutes? Ten? An eternity, it seemed, with Lachlan tantalizingly close. From the outside, he might have appeared to be part of the wall, what with his arms braced to each side and his back to the crowd. But Holly was face-to-face with him, and it felt more like the prelude to a hug.
Her dragon inhaled deeply, savoring his musky scent. Before realizing what she was doing, she closed her eyes, the better to drink him in. And if her mind wandered back to old times, well, that wasn’t her fault.
So close, her dragon hummed.
Too close, she wanted to protest.
But it wasn’t. It was just right.
Images rushed through her mind, replaying all the little kindnesses she’d witnessed from Lachlan. The rare smiles. His heated kisses. His reverent touch.
Her body hummed with need, and her hands twitched, begging to touch the smooth planes of his chest. She forced herself to open her eyes. But that didn’t help, because Lachlan’s lips had opened slightly, and his gaze was firmly on her mouth.
Want you. Need you. Missed you so much, her dragon whispered.
His eyes swirled, and he leaned closer, his human side losing control to his inner beast.