“Andrea,” he whispered. “We’ve arrived.”
Andrea’s eyes fluttered open. She smiled at him before she was fully conscious. Then her expression shifted to a frown, and she sat up straight. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d dozed off.”
“You’ve had a long week. We can go back to the hotel if you’d prefer.”
“No, of course not. Give me a minute to wake up.” She stretched with the sinuous movements of a cat and combed her fingers through her windblown hair. “How bad do I look?”
“You always look beautiful.” The words spilled out before he could consider them, and he rushed on. “Don’t worry, this isn’t an elegant restaurant, but the food is wonderful.”
“I always trust you when it comes to food.”
“You can trust me on more than that, Andrea.” He got out of the car before he could see her reaction.
Chapter Eighteen
Port Righ Seafood could in no way be confused with a fancy restaurant, but when they stepped inside, Andrea was charmed all the same. Wood paneling, old photos, Windsor-style tables and chairs: all contributed to the homey, old-fashioned feel. It reminded her of the seafood restaurants that dotted New England’s harbors, drawing tourists with promises of ocean-fresh chowders.
The hostess, a perky brunette dressed head to toe in black, lit up when they entered. “Jamie MacDonald! I didn’t know you were back!”
“Just for the week. Gail, this is Andrea. Andrea, Gail.”
Andrea maintained her smile as the girl gave her a thorough once-over. She knew the small-town routine well enough. James was a hometown celebrity, and Andrea, being an outsider, was a threat. Gail’s gaze clearly held a challenge. She sighed and followed the woman to a window table that overlooked the harbor. Would they always be subjected to that sort of treatment?
Oh my. When had she started assuming a relationship between them?
She took the chair James held for her and opened her menu, but her eyes just skimmed it blindly. She pushed it away, unread.
“Surprise me.”
“Feeling adventurous?”
“Always. Just pick a good wine to go with it.”
She stared out the window as James perused the menu, but he didn’t get very far. First the restaurant’s owner came from the back to shake his hand. Then one of the waitresses appeared and crushed him in an embarrassingly showy hug.
“Just a quiet dinner?” Andrea said.
“Sorry.” He grimaced. “Even the people I don’t know know me.”
She struggled to squeeze words from her tight throat. “The life of a celebrity.”
“Life in a small town,” he corrected. “Either I went to school with them, or my dad taught music to them. Sometimes I think he knew every last person on Skye.”
The waitress—a different one—approached to take their order, and James quickly rattled off a list of dishes without looking at the menu. When she left, James extended his hand across the table, palm up. Andrea reluctantly put her hand in his, feeling the prickle of questioning gazes on her back.
“So tell me. What do you want to do tomorrow?”
Andrea forced herself to relax and breathe, though the combination of imagined scrutiny and the movement of his thumb against the back of her hand made it nearly impossible. “I thought you promised me a sunrise jog.”
“Are you sure that’s how you want to spend your holiday? Wouldn’t you rather sleep late?”
“I don’t sleep in,” she said. “It’s a waste of perfectly productive hours.”
“So a jog first. Then a tour of the island?”
“I’d love to see more than just Sleat—”
“Jamie! What a surprise!”
James jerked his head toward the speaker, who was still at least ten feet away, drawing every eye in the restaurant. The woman was petite but curvy, with short blonde hair and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Most people would call her cute, but Andrea thought no woman could more properly be called a cat. She could practically see the claws.
James put on a smile, but it was a canned expression. Andrea knew what genuine warmth from him felt like, and this was downright frigid. “Hello, Bree.”
Bree flashed what she probably meant to be a coy smile. “Jamie, I can’t believe you didn’t let me know you were coming to town. I would have made sure I cleared my calendar.” Her glance barely touched Andrea before it landed back on James.
“Sorry, Bree. I’m only here for a week, and I’ve been busy.” He favored Andrea with a warm smile.
Bree apparently decided she couldn’t ignore Andrea any longer and thrust out a hand. “I’m Bree. Jamie and I are old friends.”
I bet you are. She shook the woman’s hand. “Andrea.”
“American?” Her eyebrows flew up, and she shifted her attention to James. “Naughty lad. You have been busy.”
Andrea suppressed the urge to smack the woman. She knew Bree’s type all too well, and not for a moment did she believe the woman still had any sort of relationship with James.
When no one responded to the hint, Bree changed tacks. “Are you going to hear Davy’s band on Friday? You know they’re playing in Inverness.”
James glanced at Andrea. “What do you want to do, love? Fancy driving to the city for some music? They’re fantastic.”
“You know I’m up for anything.” Andrea gave him a look that hinted at far more intimacy than they currently enjoyed.
James’s smile broadened. He turned to Bree and said, “Maybe we’ll see you there then.”
Bree’s smile faltered. “Good to see you, Jamie. Nice to meet you, Andrea.”
The woman swished back across the restaurant, drawing as much attention in her departure as she had in her arrival.
James gave Andrea a wicked grin. “Nicely done.”
“Thank you. Old girlfriend?”
“Town gossip, more like.”
“So we’ve just become the latest topic of conversation?”
His hand went out to her again, meant to be reassuring. “Does it bother you that much?”
Andrea didn’t answer, keeping her fingers laced tightly together in her lap. Anything she said would be a half-truth.
“You don’t want anyone to think we’re together.”
She jerked her eyes to his face. He was the most ridiculously confident man she had ever met. Surely he didn’t need her reassurance. “It has nothing to do with you. I’m just not comfortable with everyone looking at me.”
“Sweetheart, you can’t help it. Every eye goes to you the minute you walk into a room.”
Heat rose to her face again. Why couldn’t she manage to control that around him? “That’s not what I mean.”
“Is that why you don’t perform anymore?”
“Yes.” She’d told him practically nothing, but it was more than anyone in her life beside Becky knew.
“We don’t have to go to the concert. There will be a lot of people from Skye, a lot who know me. Davy’s another hometown success story.”
“Do I have to decide now?”
“You can decide whenever you like, as long as you give us three hours to get there.”
Their appetizers arrived, and talk shifted to the safer topic of food. By the time their entrees arrived, she had almost forgotten they were under scrutiny. Once again, James had chosen well: locally caught scallops, shrimp, and sea bass. He wasn’t just taking his tour guide duties seriously. He was equally determined to prove her wrong about the food.
They finished the meal with strong coffee and a pair of rustic fruit tarts, gazing down on the harbor while the sunset turned the cloudy sky pastel shades. Boats bobbed peacefully in the harbor, from the graceful sailboats to the rugged, weathered fishing boats.
“You have officially done the impossible,” she said softly, letting
out a contented sigh. “I think I love Skye.”
“I had every confidence in you.”
“Don’t you mean every confidence in yourself?”
“I’m just the driver. You’re the one who needed to relax long enough to see what’s in front of you.”
There went the humor again. Everything he said had a double meaning. “I’m not relaxed enough to kiss you, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Then I still have some work to do.” James signaled their server for the check. “Tell me the truth, though. This is the longest you’ve gone without thinking about work.”
She hid her smile in her coffee cup. “It is. Just don’t let it go to your head.”
“Oh, I can’t. Not when I’ve got you to remind me of my faults.”
Andrea laughed. He was the most annoyingly likeable man she’d ever met. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you like the abuse.”
“Only from you, love.” He paid the check in cash and laid the folder on the table for the server. “Shall we go?”
“Where are we going?” she asked as James helped her on with her coat.
“It’s been a long day. I thought we might go back to the hotel.”
“That’s probably a good idea. I did fall asleep in your car.”
She ignored the eyes on them as they left, though it took supreme force of will to keep her face expressionless. Only when she was safely ensconced in the cocoon-like interior of his car did she manage to breathe easily. She had walked the gauntlet and lived through it.
That implied the day had been a trial, though, and other than her discomfort in the restaurant, it had been the most carefree day she’d experienced in years. “Today was lovely. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He laid his hand, palm up, on the console, and she put her hand in his. “It’s been a long time since I’ve held hands with someone. It’s nice.”
“I can live with nice.”
Andrea watched his face in the dim light and looked down to their clasped hands. “You know, I’m beginning to think you’re a fraud.”
“How so?” Once again, he sounded amused, but he squeezed her hand tighter.
“You talk a good game, but you’re content to hold hands with me all day.”
“Only because you won’t let me do more than that.”
There went the easy, flippant answer. “Why do you do that? Why are you so determined to let everyone think the worst of you?”
He shot her a quick glance before he returned his attention to the road. “How do you know it’s not true?”
“Is it? Do you really just go from one woman to the next?”
“I date a lot, yes.”
“Do you sleep with them all?”
He choked on a cough. “My, you’re direct.”
She could hardly believe her own boldness. It was one thing to banter. It was entirely another to grill him about his romantic history. But she had to know the truth. If this were all just a ploy to get her into bed, she’d put an end to it this minute. “Should I take that as a yes or a no?”
He took a long time to answer, or maybe it just felt that way because she was holding her breath. “I’m no saint, Andrea, but I do have boundaries.”
She exhaled slowly, unwilling to acknowledge how much the answer relieved her. Not that he had answered the question directly, but the implication was clear. “Why then?”
“It was easier.”
“Than what?”
For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to reply. “Than letting everyone see how I really felt after Cassandra and I split.”
“Wait. Ian said you called off the engagement.”
“She’d been having an affair with her costar.” His hand tightened around hers again.
“Does Ian know that? Because—”
James shook his head sharply. “No. And I don’t want him to.”
She frowned, baffled. “Why would you let everyone believe you dumped her if she was the one who was wrong?”
“For one thing, it would have hurt her career. She makes her living playing ingenues.”
“I’d say she brought that on herself,” Andrea muttered.
“For another, the truth made me look like a pathetic dolt who couldn’t guess his fiancée was cheating on him.” His smile was closer to a grimace than true amusement. “As it was, I couldn’t go anyplace without cameras in my face. You can’t imagine what that’s like.”
Andrea gritted her teeth against the rush of memories. She could still see the flashbulbs when she closed her eyes, remember the shouted questions, the jostling of reporters and photographers around her. She squeezed her eyes shut, her breath catching in her throat. She tried to untangle her hand from James’s, but he held her firm.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” A note of concern crept into his voice. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Of course not. I’m fine.”
“You said that before, and it was a lie both times.” His touch had been gentle before, but now it was like iron, unyielding, holding her hand fast.
She hadn’t noticed the twilight fading to full night, but now the headlights swept the parking lot of the hotel as he pulled up in front of the cottages. He killed the engine and lights and let the silence lapse. When she didn’t say anything else, he dropped her hand with a sigh and opened his door.
Andrea climbed out and shivered in the cold while he retrieved her packages from the trunk, relieved he wasn’t going to press the issue further. He followed her silently to her door, then unlocked it with his key and placed her bags inside. Before she could step through, he pulled the door closed, trapping her between his body and the wooden slab. She jerked to a halt before she could slam into it and spun around.
“What are you doing?” she blurted.
He put one hand on her waist and braced the other by her head. Even though he only held her loosely, she felt the shock through her body as surely as if he’d crushed her to him. He bent his head and murmured in her ear, “Something is bothering you. I’m considering the best way to make you forget it.”
His warm breath raised chills along her skin, even though his hand still barely touched her waist. A shudder of longing ran through her. “You promised.”
“I did. Unless you want to change your mind.”
“You’re still my client.”
“I think we’ve gone far beyond a business relationship, don’t you? Kiss me.”
“No.” The word didn’t sound convincing, especially considering her breathing had gone alarmingly uneven.
He threaded his fingers through her hair, drawing her closer. She could do nothing but stare up at him, her voice caught in her throat, her heart hammering in anticipation. His gaze caressed her face and lingered on her lips, building the ache inside her to an almost unbearable level.
Then he smiled and stepped back, releasing her so quickly she almost stumbled. “I always keep my promises, Andrea.” He strode back toward the car, but halfway there, he turned back. “Jogging in the morning?”
“What?” Andrea struggled to regain her composure, blinking while her mind shifted gears. “Oh, right, jogging. Yes, I’ll be ready.”
He gave her that dazzling grin and pulled the car door open. “I’ll be up at the house for a while if you need me. Number’s on your desk. Sleep well.”
Not likely. She sagged against the door for support while the car reversed out of the parking spot and turned back up the drive. With her knees this weak, she couldn’t even take comfort in the fact she hadn’t allowed him to kiss her. For a moment, she’d been so sure …
She let out a groan. He’d played her again. He’d never meant to kiss her, but he had accomplished exactly what he intended. She no lon
ger remembered her misgivings from the car.
Unfortunately, there was another whole set in their place.
Chapter Nineteen
James scrubbed a hand through his hair as he drove up the dark road toward the family house. He’d intended to tease—or maybe shock—Andrea from her sudden panic. He had just overestimated his own self-control when it came to her, or maybe he’d underestimated the sheer force of the attraction that crackled between them. His words about keeping his promises had been as much a reminder for him as for her.
The more he learned about her, the harder it was to stick to the surface-level flirtation he had intended. She was like no other woman he’d met: sharp, driven, successful. He’d genuinely enjoyed every moment he spent in her company. Every once in a while, he got a sense of how wicked her sense of humor could be if she’d just let it loose.
He smiled again at how she’d handled Bree. Some women would have instantly gone on the defensive, but Andrea had just watched her like one would view a child with a tendency to exaggerate. Her sultry tone and private look had shut down the nosy woman altogether. He admired a woman who kept her composure.
He’d shattered that composure tonight, no doubt about it. It wasn’t just professional considerations that kept her from acting on her feelings, though. Each detail she revealed hinted at some terrible hurt in her past, and they all had to be wrapped up together. He’d be willing to bet Logan had been some sort of celebrity, someone in the public eye. Did he have something to do with the end of her promising performance career? Was he the reason she harbored a phobia about public scrutiny?
James realized he’d been idling in his aunt’s driveway for several minutes and shut the car off. He shouldn’t have come here. Serena would take one look at his face and know exactly what he was thinking. At least Ian’s car was missing, or he would have turned around straightaway. His sister’s teasing was one thing. His brother’s disapproval was quite another.
James let himself into the house. Light flickered from the television, illuminating the living room in staccato bursts. Serena lay curled up beneath a blanket on the sofa, watching some Scottish drama.
Five Days in Skye: A Novel Page 15
