Catch Me If You Can

by Donna Kauffman

  Which left him with the fun task of finding something suitable for digging out the rear tires. Or, barring that, at least clearing out the tailpipe so he could stay warm through the night. Digging with his hands, clad in nothing more than his meager leather driving gloves, was not much of an option. Partly because his fingers were already numb. But mostly because it would be pretty much like trying to hand scoop water from a quickly flooding boat.

  A quick rummage in the glove box yielded nothing of help. The oversized map book was briefly considered and rejected. The floor mat proved too unwieldy. He was contemplating trying to liberate the skinny license plate from the front bumper, when it occurred to him to go back and hunt around the bed of the truck. One of those lumps might actually be something useful.

  The snow was beginning to accumulate rapidly on the road now as the storm seemed to be settling in for a good night’s run. If he didn’t dig out soon, it wouldn’t matter much. The Escort he’d rented had proven to be a tough little car on the steep inclines and winding roads in the mountains, but it didn’t have much in the way of ground clearance, nor did it come with four-wheel drive. He wished now he’d pushed a bit harder on having them locate a truck, but the look on the rental clerk’s face when he’d inquired about one had quickly disabused him of that idea. SUV’s weren’t too popular on this side of the pond as it turned out.

  He dug around in the pile of snow in the rear of the truck, going by touch, sighing in relief when his fingers bumped up against a long wooden handle. “Please be a shovel,” he muttered. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a heavy garden rake. He struck out twice more with a post hole digger and an old straw broom. “Great, I’ll just sweep my way clear.” He kept the broom out, though, thinking he could at least clear his windshield during the night to keep a lookout for oncoming vehicles. And the handle might prove helpful in clearing a tailpipe tunnel.

  He went back to the hunt, careful not to lean on the truck or rock it in any way. The last thing he wanted to do was send it over the edge of the road. He wanted to meet the locals at some point, but that was not exactly the kind of welcome he was hoping for.

  He ended up using the broomstick to gently probe the far side of the truck bed, but between the dark and the snow, he had no idea what he was poking at. His hands, toes and nose were numb as he took the broom and turned back toward his car. Only to stop dead in his tracks. Someone stood not five yards away, heavily cloaked arms folded.

  She motioned to the broom in his hand. “If you were planning on flying out on that thing, I have to warn you, the guarantee expired last month.” Her softly accented voice carried easily through the wind. It was strong, and if he wasn’t mistaken, more than faintly amused. An intriguing combination that got his full male attention, despite the surreal nature of the situation.

  “I think all flights have been grounded due to weather anyway,” he responded. He gestured toward the truck. “Yours? Or are you just out for an evening stroll?”

  She lifted a mittened hand. “That and trying to get a signal on my mobile.”

  He brightened. Maybe the evening wasn’t going to end with him sleeping pretzel style in his compact after all. “Any luck?”

  She brushed snow from her face and it made him wish she’d step closer so he could see her more clearly. She was tall, but that was about all he could tell, with her bundled head to toe. Whatever hair she had was tucked up beneath a tassled knit cap.

  “I suppose the smart answer, given the circumstances, would be to say yes, absolutely,” she told him. “Two burly men will be here shortly to tow me out.”

  “Don’t kid a man who’s lost all feeling in his toes.” He could have sworn she flashed a smile. It took a surprising amount of control to keep from stepping closer to find out for sure.

  But rather than follow up with a witty rejoinder, she shifted gears. “Was that my fault?” she asked, motioning to his car. “I didn’t have anything to set out as a warning. I was hoping I was far enough off the road.” She laughed a little, in what sounded like relief. “Though I was just thankful I was still on enough of it to get out in one piece.”

  “What happened?”

  “Front tire blew coming around the bend. I almost—" She broke off as she looked past him at her truck, hanging so close to the edge. She hugged her arms closer and shook her head.

  Tag was moving closer without even thinking about it.

  She put up a hand, stopping him a few short feet away. “Sorry. Don’t worry. I’m fine, really. I guess I’ve been operating on automatic pilot since it happened and looking at it now, it just kind of hit me how close…” She trailed off, looked at her truck, then smiled as she shook her head. “Guess it wasn’t my turn. But I’m sorry I got you stuck.”

  Now that he could see her smile, he wanted to see her eyes. Mostly he just wanted her to keep talking. He wasn’t typically seduced by an accent. Apparently there were exceptions. Or his mind could be going numb along with the rest of him.

  “Not your fault,” he said. “I should have taken the turns more slowly. I guess I was just anxious to get into the next town and find a bed for the night.”

  “Here visiting from the States?”

  He nodded, locking his knees together as the shivers started to set in. He’d been okay when he’d been moving around, but standing in one place wasn’t such a good idea.

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid Durnish, which you probably passed through a ways back, is it.”

  “I was hoping Calyth—”

  She was already shaking her head. “It’s hardly more than a bump in the road, though there are a few little shops right there at the heart of it.” She lifted a shoulder. “I’ve never really stopped there, so I could be wrong.” She cocked her head. “First time out of the city?”

  Now it was his turn to smile, even though he could no longer feel his lips. “Not hardly.” He glanced back at his car. “But, since getting into town isn’t an option, I was planning on clearing out the tailpipe so I could run the heat off and on during the night. You’re welcome to join me. I don’t think you should risk getting in your truck.” He lifted his hands. “And you won’t have to worry about me making any untoward advances. I have no feeling left in my extremities at this point.”

  She regarded him for a moment, then said, “Yes, that would slow things down a bit, wouldn’t it?”

  There it was again, that sly amusement. He knew she realized she was in a potentially dangerous situation for a young woman, but she was handling it with an almost insouciant disregard. He rather liked that. Made him wish he’d met her under other circumstances. And that he hadn’t promised her he’d be on his best behavior. Despite being numb, she made him think about doing things that weren’t entirely civilized.

  “Why don’t you wait in the car while I dig out a tunnel? You can have the backseat and I’ll take the front, if it would make you feel more comfortable.”

  “Quite the gentleman Yank, aren’t you?” she said. “But I’m numb enough myself to take you up on your offer. Besides, it’s either trust you or freeze to death, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, well, it’s gratifying to know I can get a woman to choose me over certain death.”

  She tucked her hands in her pockets and started toward his car. “Oh, I’m sure women choose you even when death isn’t certain.”

  “Thanks,” he said, falling into step behind her. “I think.”

  Her laugh trailed behind her through the wind and falling snow. It made him curl his hands against the desire to reach for her, tug that cap off and see for himself what lay beneath. A long fall of hair? Or something short and spiky? For a tall woman, she had something of the nymph about her. Probably her playful smile, amused tone. From her stride, long-legged and sure, he’d bet she wasn’t slight of frame, no matter the bulk of the parka. Which likely played into her air of natural confidence, though it did next to nothing to decrease his interest in her. If anything…

  She paused at the rear side door to
his rental. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help? Or would I just be in your way?”

  He stopped beside her, closer than he’d been as yet. Close enough to see the sprinkle of freckles across her nose and cheeks, the wide fullness of her mouth, the delightful tilt to the corner of her eyes when she smiled, though the color of them was still a mystery. One he was finding himself quite compelled to solve.

  “I can handle it,” he told her, hoping like hell she attributed the lower pitch in his voice to the weather and not his reaction to being so close to her. Yet so impossibly far from being able to do anything about this sudden and quite intense feeling of attraction.

  Her smile curved even more deeply. “You know what, Gentleman Yank?” she said, a bit more softly this time, though every bit as amused. “I believe you can.”

  He might have spent the better part of the past several years deep in the Yucatan jungle, but even he recognized a come-on when he heard it.

  At least he was pretty damn sure it was a come-on. Maybe it was just wishful thinking that had taken on hallucinogenic proportions due to the cryogenic loss of brain cells. Which was entirely possible.

  Her hand was on the door handle, only she didn’t open it. He was holding the broom in a frozen death grip, only he made no move toward the wall of snow encasing the rear end of the car.

  “You should get out of the cold,” he said, after the silence had spun out far too long.

  “So should you.”

  “If I don’t clear the tailpipe, we won’t have any heat.”

  Her smile curved in a way that could only be described as wicked. His body was more than responsive. In fact, he didn’t so much mind the numb parts any longer. As long as that one part had life in it, that was all that apparently mattered.

  “Something tells me we’d manage,” she said, then opened the door.

  For all that Tag rarely, if ever, felt dull-witted or slow, he felt very much of both at the moment. She had presented him with a perfect opportunity, and he’d squandered the moment with inane talk of snow removal. Serve him right to sleep cramped in the front seat. An adventure that would be even more uncomfortable in his current state.

  She began to unfasten her jacket.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I thought it might be smart to brush all the snow off and stow it above the backseat. Didn’t want to get your car any more damp than necessary.” She quickly slid out of the jacket, shivering as she quickly smacked at the snow crystals coating the collar and shoulders.

  “Here, let me do that. You go on and get in.” He didn’t let her argue, but took the coat and opened the door.

  She smiled over her shoulder. “Used to giving orders are you?”

  Now it was his turn to smile. “You might say that.”

  “Well then, there’s something we have in common.” She turned and propped an arm on the open door, as if the sun were shining and snow wasn’t fast collecting on her shoulders. “Do people generally jump when you bark a command?”

  He merely continued to smile, then said, “You’re getting snow on your sweater.”

  “Well, then, I suppose I’ll just have to take that off too, won’t I?”

  Yep, his body was definitely on board with wherever she wanted to steer it. “Are you always so stubborn?” He’d almost said stunning.

  “Somehow I think that might be another shared character trait.”

  “Well, as much as I might enjoy seeing just how far you’d go with this, I only arrived in Scotland this morning. I really don’t want to start my trip by explaining to local law officials why I have the frozen corpse of a half-naked woman laying next to my car.”

  Her eyebrow lifted. “Only half-naked? Hmm. I might have misjudged you after all.”

  It had already occurred to Tag that this was possibly the oddest conversation he’d ever had with a woman, or anyone for that matter. Which, considering he’d once talked himself out of being the dinner entree for an aboriginal tribal chief, was saying something. He nodded to the backseat. “You’re letting snow into my car.”

  “So I am,” she said, then sighed and shook her head. “Alright then, since you’re being such a Good Samaritan, and in the spirit of welcoming you to our bonny shores, I suppose I should play nice. It’s just that it’s been a simply dreadful day and for some reason, you’re fun to play with.”

  Tag chuckled at that, and without thinking about possible repercussions, reached out and tugged her cap free. A coil of dark, springy hair uncoiled to her shoulders.

  She arched a brow in reaction, but said nothing.

  He slapped the tassled wool cap on his jeans. “Just getting the snow off your hat.”

  “Ah,” she said with a brief smile. She took the hat from him but didn’t get in the car right away.

  “Now you’re just getting snow in your hair.”

  She regarded him for another long minute, then said, “Maybe I’m hoping you’ll brush it off.” She glanced down, then back up. “You look like you have nice hands.”

  That choked a surprise laugh out of him. She’d gone from flirting innuendo to a no-nonsense invitation in less than five minutes. It should have turned him off. He wasn’t much for pushy women. But there was something about her that made him think she wasn’t quite the aggressor she was making herself out to be. Maybe something having to do with that bad day she’d mentioned. “Are you always so forward with men you meet on the side of the road?”

  “Never,” she stated, easily and quite unequivocally. She wrinkled her nose a little. “Interesting, isn’t it?” Interesting indeed, Tag thought. And interested. Because he was definitely interested.

  She finally moved to duck inside the car. He reached out reflexively and brushed the snow from her hair, making her pause, then turn back again. His gloved hand drifted to her cheek, then her chin.

  She looked him steadily in the eye as she leaned toward him. And he held that gaze as he slowly lowered his mouth to hers.

  Her lips were cold, or maybe it was just that his own were frozen. And yet just one soft kiss managed to heat him up quite nicely.

  “And that was for?” she managed, when he lifted his head and let his hand drop away.

  He shrugged, smiled. “You looked like you had nice lips. Turns out I was right.”

  She just laughed as she finally slid into the car. “Let me know if you want your engine started,” she said as she pulled the door shut behind her.

  “Oh, I think you’ve already taken care of that, thanks,” he murmured under his breath as he moved to the rear end of the car.

  He began the arduous task of clearing snow with a broom, and realized that despite the fact that he was stranded in the middle of God knew where, freezing his ass off in a Highland snowstorm… he was grinning like an idiot.

  He even started to whistle. A bonny welcome indeed.

  Chapter 6

  As soon as he moved toward the back of the car, Maura slumped back in the seat and let out a surprised laugh. “And just what was that you were doing out there?” she asked herself, a disbelieving smile curving her lips. She sighed and let her head drop back, closing her eyes and daring herself not to replay the last ten minutes over in her mind.

  That hadn’t really been her out there. Maura Sinclair, independent woman, and all around smart girl. Smart girls didn’t flirt with strange men, much less goad them into stealing a kiss. And they certainly didn’t carry on while stranded in a snowstorm with no hope of escape. For all she knew he was a serial killer, come to Scotland to skip out on being executed back in the States.

  She snorted at her flight of fancy. “You’ve definitely got to stop reading thrillers past midnight.” She craned her neck and peered out of the rapidly fogging windows. She was unable to see him, but she could hear him digging and rooting about.

  He’d seemed like a good sort. Of course she was inclined to believe so considering the liberties she’d all but encouraged him to take, wasn’t she? Besides, what were the odds
she’d have an accident and get stranded with an axe murderer anyway?

  He had a nice voice. And kind eyes. A rationalization perhaps, but true enough. Even in the gloom, she’d been struck by that right off. And yet there’d been something more. Even when he’d smiled and his eyes had crinkled at the corners, there had been a certain intensity. Observant was the word that came to mind. And yet she’d felt no sense of threat. Maybe because it had been that very element that had attracted her to him in the first place.

  Because she certainly hadn’t come on to him just because he’d been there. It had been a bad day or two, no doubt, but that hadn’t compelled her to suddenly throw herself at every man who strayed into her path. And men had stared intently at her before, but there was usually an element of tongue lolling to it that immediately left her cold. Not this man. He didn’t stare so much as study. Yes, that was it. He’d been quite… aware. She shivered, and it wasn’t entirely because the air inside the car was almost as cold as the air outside.

  It really wasn’t like her to shamelessly flirt like that, even with a bloke she’d had her eye on for some length of time. Of course, in the past forty-eight hours she’d certainly witnessed her share of out-of-the-ordinary behavior, hadn’t she? Perhaps she just wanted to give it a go herself. No one could blame her.

  She sighed again, but this time there was more an air of defeat in it. She didn’t want to think about coming back from town yesterday morning to find… well, what she’d found. Much less dwell on what Jory and Priss might well be doing at this very moment. And her meeting with Wentworth had done little to lift her spirits. As it happened he hadn’t been able to see her any earlier today, and she’d only caught Val in time to learn she was off spending the night out with her new boyfriend. At least she’d still offered up her couch so Maura hadn’t had to pay for a room on top of it all. The whole trip had been a colossal waste of time. And for her trouble, her reward had been a blown tire and a near-death experience.

  That last part alone might possibly explain her brief display of promiscuity out there. It wasn’t every day she got to watch her entire life flash before her eyes. Complete with a few scenes from yesterday she could have definitely gone without reliving.