I missed you too. More than I can say, she swore went through his mind.
Their bodies pressed closer as if ten years hadn’t passed since they’d last touched. She cocked her head, inching in to meet the kiss poised on his lips. Lachlan leaned in, eyes glazing slightly.
Missed you so much, my mate, those storm-cloud eyes said.
Their lips were a millimeter away from brushing, but she could already taste the kiss. His body heat embraced her, and he slid one strong hand around her waist.
Then someone shouted from over Lachlan’s shoulder. “Independence!”
“Independence!”
“Take back control!” another protester shouted.
Lachlan barely moved, but Holly jolted. God, what was she doing?
Second chance, her dragon murmured, still lost in his eyes.
She nudged him away.
“Lachlan…”
His eyes fluttered, and his lips moved, but no sound came out.
“Lachlan.” She raised her voice firmly.
He blinked, then stiffened and jerked away. “Sorry.”
She gulped at the yearning in his eyes. The sheer need. But that didn’t make sense. Tough, impenetrable Lachlan — a man as strong and proud as the hills, and just as low in emotion — didn’t yearn. He didn’t love, and he didn’t hope. Did he?
Of course he does, her dragon whispered, watching his eyes flicker and his throat bob.
So, why? she wanted to demand. Why did he fight what they both felt?
There were times when she could slap the man, and times when she wanted to kiss him. But at that moment, all she wanted was to hug him. To hold him. Maybe even whisper It’s okay to love, or I promise I won’t hurt you.
Which was ridiculous. He was the one who’d hurt her.
But I’d better go had been on the tip of her tongue, and somehow, those words slipped out first.
“I’d better go.”
She winced and nearly hollered, Hang on! Wait. Let’s talk this through.
But it was too late. Lachlan lowered his arms, giving her space she didn’t want. The bulk of the crowd had passed by then, erasing any excuse to stay in the sanctuary of his arms. A slight movement bumped her elbow, and she hugged the urn protectively.
Dammit. Now she was the one putting up a barrier between them.
“Listen, I’ve had a long day,” she found herself saying as a heavy weight pressed over her body. Was jet lag finally kicking in, or was it regret? “And I need a little time to clear my head. Can we leave in the morning?”
His expression was still pained, but he nodded slowly. “Where are you staying? So I can collect you, I mean.”
“White Horse Close. We can meet around the back, at the Calton Road entrance. Do you know it?”
He nodded just as the bagpipes started up again, and Holly forced herself to gesture down the road. “Well, see you tomorrow. Is eight okay?”
He stood rooted to the spot, and she wondered if he heard it too. That whisper on the wind, that deep voice rumbling into a corner of her mind.
Second chance…
She frowned, sniffing the air. A second chance at true love or at breaking her heart?
She forced herself to get a move on. With every step, she felt Lachlan’s eyes on her back.
“See you tomorrow at eight,” he rumbled.
Her dragon lashed its tail. See you tomorrow, my mate.
Chapter Four
Early the next morning, Lachlan strode up the hill toward the castle. Or rather, he marched like a soldier on a mission, telling himself he wasn’t setting off on a road trip with the only woman in the world who’d ever made his soul sing. No, not at all. He was heading off on one of those missions a soldier did because duty called, no matter how much he dreaded it.
Why? Because love and duty didn’t mix. Love had a way of getting a man off course, and he’d vowed never to be swayed again.
What about destiny? his dragon tried.
He was destined for a career and for serving his country. Even as a child, he’d known that.
You mean, had it drilled into your mind, his dragon muttered.
Maybe, but for good reason. Without men like him maintaining law and order, Scotland’s shifter world would descend into the chaos of medieval times.
Yes, it had killed him to leave Holly, all those years ago. But he’d had no choice. Honorable men had to make sacrifices, and his was giving up love.
His inner dragon gnashed its teeth but remained silent — a bad sign. Was the beast sulking quietly or harboring hopeless dreams?
Either way, he strode on, having an appointment to keep. He’d spent the night at the family townhouse in Edinburgh’s stately New Town, not that he’d gotten a wink of sleep. Which was fine, in a way, because that kept him in soldier mode, laser-focused on achieving his mission.
He’d calculated everything the previous night — distances, times, contingency plans. If all went well, he could bring Holly to Gleninnis and back within forty-eight hours. Worst case, seventy-two hours. Then she could fly back to the States, he could get back to work, and both of them could pretend to forget.
He strode up past Princes Street Gardens to the steepest part of the hill, then curved right on Ramsay Garden and knocked on the door of Trevor’s townhouse.
“Ah, Mr. McKinney. Sad days. Sad days, indeed.” Mrs. Baker, the housekeeper, sighed and led him to the garage. “But I’m glad it’s you taking dear Trevor on his final journey. You and that lovely Holly.” The older woman smiled. “A little…unconventional, that lass, but lovely indeed.”
“Unconventional. You can say that,” Lachlan murmured.
In the best possible way, his dragon hummed dreamily.
Mrs. Baker flipped a light switch, illuminating the garage. “There it is.”
Lachlan stopped in his tracks, following her gesture, and his dragon nearly whistled.
Mrs. Baker laughed. “Men. You’re all the same. Letting a tin box on four wheels turn your head.”
“That is no tin box.”
“Trevor tried convincing me of that, too. To him, it was a 1965 Austin-Healey. To me, it’s a tin box.” She pressed the key into his hand. “Go on, then. I might not see the joy in driving such a machine, but Trevor did.” Then she looked him up and down. “It’s one of the few toys Trevor ever indulged himself in, and I reckon he left it to the right man.”
“How so?”
She laughed. “It might help you enjoy life a wee bit.”
I enjoy life, he nearly retorted, but his dragon fell into a coughing fit, and he never got the words out.
Instead, he stepped to the car and ran a hand gently over the hood. Then he put his bag in the boot and closed it with a soft thump, admiring the vehicle’s sleek lines. The caramel color of the body contrasted with chrome highlights, and the leather interior was spotless. All in all, it was in mint condition despite its age — a little like Trevor had been.
A soft ache set into his chest at the thought of the man who’d been so influential in his life. Throughout the years Lachlan had spent in military service abroad, it had felt as if Scotland would always be there for him, along with the people he loved. But no one was immortal — not even Trevor.
It’s not the number of years, but how you spend them.
Lachlan smiled sadly. Trevor had been full of little sayings like that.