Hot for the Scot

by Janice Maynard

  “What was your favorite?” I asked. “Tell it to me, please.”

  His grin was indulgent. Settling himself into the chair opposite Annis’s recliner, he pulled me onto his lap. “It’s no’ all that complicated. Two brothers had a notion of wedding the same lass. They argued and courted but neither could convince the other to leave the field. They were fishermen by trade. One day they got caught in a terrible storm and washed up on an uninhabited island. No food, no water, naught but an empty hut with two rude pallets on the floor for sleeping. They were fair on their way to dyin’. The weather was so terrible, they couldna’ leave for three days.”

  I toyed with a button on his shirt. “Then what happened?”

  “On the morning of the third day, one of the brothers awoke to find the storm had finally passed. He slipped away and went down to the shore, pushed the boat out to sea and sailed away. When the other brother raced to the beach, all he could see was the sail far in the distance. He knew he’d been left to his doom.”

  Angus was a natural raconteur. I could listen to him speak for no other reason than I loved his voice and his accent. But now I was also caught up in his tale. “Go on.”

  “Back at home, the first brother told everyone about the storm and how his poor brother had been lost at sea. And, of course, he renewed his courtship, with no competition in sight. Fortunately for the powers of goodness and right, the lass he had his eye on was a smart woman. She suspected he was lying with every word. Not only that, but the brother she really wanted was the one who had supposedly perished. In time, she convinced someone to take her and search for her missing suitor.”

  “But by then he must have starved to death.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t ye? But a wondrous thing happened. The first night he was alone on the island, he fell into a restless sleep, plagued by hunger and despair. Hours later he awoke to strange melodious sounds, the clinking and clattering of wee dishes. The room was filled with eerie phosphorescence. It was a band of fairies, dozens of them, setting out a feast like none he’d ever seen. The man stayed as still and quiet as he could, but fairies are sensitive creatures, and eventually one of them noticed the presence of a human. With a great cry and a burst of light, they disappeared.”

  “So the man ate the fairy food?”

  “Aye. And though it was wee in appearance, the meal was magical, so it sustained him until the search party rescued him and he was reunited with the woman he loved.”

  I clapped my hands. “I love that story.” Again, I was struck by the rightness of my coming to Scotland. Neither of my parents had ever done any genealogical research. I had no idea where my family roots began. There was no reason to think I had any deep ancestral attachment to Scotland. But in my heart, the land and the people called out to me.

  It struck me that one reason I liked Angus so much was because I felt at ease with him. He was solid and comforting and warm, a bulwark against life’s difficulties. Even if I had not met him, I would have found a way to rescue Annis during the flood. I wasn’t helpless. But having Angus on my side was a bonus and a pleasure.

  “I haven’t given you that kiss you asked for,” I said. My head rested against his chest as I counted the beats of his heart.

  “I wondered when you’d remember that.” He bent me backward over his arm and leaned down to kiss me. “If it weren’t for this damn flood I’d have you in my bed tonight,” he growled.

  He kissed me like a man with a mission. I couldn’t imagine a less romantic setting than the one in which we found ourselves. But the ambience didn’t impact me at all. Not when Angus had me wrapped in his embrace. I returned the kiss with enthusiasm, winnowing my fingers through his thick hair, feeling wild and wanton and totally unlike my usual self.

  I was so lost to reason, there’s no telling what I would have done next. Angus, however, managed to draw back from the edge at a critical moment. With his chest heaving, he sat me up straight very gently and then scooted me off his lap.

  “Enough fooling around. We’re neglecting our duties.”

  I tried to feel bad about that, but it was difficult. “You’re right,” I muttered. “Maybe we should work in separate rooms.”

  His shoulders lifted and fell. “You’ve come into my life at a very inconvenient moment, Hayley.”

  I lifted my chin. “Should I apologize?”

  He stood up and grabbed me close for another kiss that left me dizzy and breathless. “Don’t say anything,” he said. “Not a single word. I’m going to pretend like you’re not here.”

  Releasing me with a muttered oath, he strode toward the kitchen, leaving me to my soggy newspapers and daydreams.

  Chapter 19

  After that first full day of cleanup in the village, I saw very little of Angus for the rest of the week. I didn’t know if he was avoiding me on purpose or if he really was swamped with the cleanup effort.

  I knew that he had spearheaded a committee to take care of widows and the elderly who had no one to help them deal with the aftermath of the storm. There were volunteers aplenty, but clearly they needed a leader and an organizer.

  Most evenings I found myself sharing a meal with Annis and Màiri. We took turns with the cooking, although I offered to do most of it. After all, both of them were still dealing with the trauma of having their homes invaded by floodwaters.

  Four days after Angus kissed me in Annis’s tiny living room, I had resigned myself to the fact that he and I would have no alone time until we could escape on our romantic getaway. Still, I was living under his roof and getting to know his mother, so even without Angus’s presence, the whole situation was pretty darned intimate.

  I finished setting the table and called my two new friends to dinner.

  Màiri was much more comfortable with me now and talked my ear off at every opportunity, though I sensed that she still distrusted me when it came to her son. Annis fretted about being away from her home, despite knowing it was uninhabitable. We’d had to remove several large sections of the inside walls because of mold.

  Over shepherd’s pie and salad, Angus’s mother caught me completely off guard with a loaded statement. “My son is a lot happier these days. I give you credit for that, my dear.”

  I felt my face turn crimson. “I’m sure you’re mistaken,” I stuttered. “About the cause, I mean. I’ve enjoyed getting to know him.”

  “He told me about how you met.”

  Annis perked up. “I know the tale. Our lass came home bedraggled and weary that day.”

  Màiri frowned and waved her fork at me. “Little Hayley, falling into the loch. My boy fishing her out. Sounds like quite an adventure.”

  I wrinkled my nose. Was she accusing me of something? “I suppose.” I wanted to downplay the incident as much as possible. “The truth is, I really need to learn how to swim. Will you pass the potatoes, please?”

  When the conversation drifted in another direction, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was not comfortable discussing my relationship with Angus. I wasn’t even sure I had a relationship with him. So far, all we had shared were a handful of kisses and the hint of something more to come.

  Màiri circled back to the subject of her son. “I think it’s been good for Angus to feel needed this week. Coming home to stay has been difficult for him. The lads in the village didn’t embrace him with open arms.”

  “Because he played for an English club?”

  “I suppose that might be part of it. But I believe the root of the problem was that he had become a celebrity to them…a larger-than-life figure. The irony is that Angus wanted to return home and go back to being the same boy he was seventeen years ago.”

  “But as Thomas Wolfe said, ‘You can’t go home again.’ “

  Angus’s mother eyed me as she chewed and swallowed. “Who is this Thomas Wolfe person?”

  “An American author,” I said. “From the early twentieth century. I don’t know if you would have heard of him her
e in Scotland. But he documented what Angus has run into…that once you leave your small town and go out into the world, it’s impossible to come back and expect everything to be the same as it once was.”

  Màiri shook her head, with a wry twist of her lips. “A boy doesn’t like to take advice from his mum. Maybe I’d better order one of Mr. Wolfe’s books for Angus’s birthday. See if my hardheaded son takes a hint.”

  We women shared a laugh, but I pondered Angus’s situation. It must feel very lonely to return to the place where you once belonged and feel like an outsider. Maybe I had something to offer him, even if it was nothing more than a fresh perspective.

  We ate biscuits and apple slices for dessert. Then Annis went down the hall to watch the news. Màiri lingered to help me clean up the kitchen and have another glass of wine. She scanned the beautiful room with an appreciative gaze. “Did you know Angus designed every bit of this house himself?”

  “No, ma’am. I didn’t.”

  Her eyes were shadowed with something that looked a lot like regret. “He was smart as a whip. I wish I could have sent him to university. I think he might have made an architect. Or an engineer. But football came calling, and that was all he wanted. I suppose it was the right thing. He moved up and up and up so fast no one could believe it. Soon I was seein’ his name in the sports columns and watching him play on the telly. I didn’t have to worry about him anymore.”

  “He loves you very much. He’s told me what a wonderful mother you were growing up…how you sacrificed for him.”

  She shrugged. “It’s what a parent does. Besides, I made a bad mistake as a girl and I didn’t want him to suffer for my…” She trailed off, biting her lip.

  “You were an innocent teenager,” I said quietly. “A grown man took advantage of you. If there was any wrongdoing, it rests at his doorstep.”

  “That’s not what my parents thought, now was it?”

  For the first time I heard a note of cynicism in her voice. Her skin was unlined, and her eyes were clear and beautiful. It seemed a shame that she was alone even now.

  “Are they still living?” I’d never heard Angus mention grandparents, but I didn’t know for sure.

  She shook her head. “No. I tried to make peace with them when Angus was born. A boy needs an extended family. But they were very religious, and in their small community, much smaller than Drumnadrochit, I had shamed them.”

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. Hers was certainly not an unusual tale. But it was very sad, nevertheless.

  “Och. It’s water under the bridge.”

  “You’re still very young. Surely there have been gentlemen interested in you.”

  Màiri preened slightly, forcing me to smother a laugh she might have taken the wrong way. “Aye. I’ve had offers. Some respectable. Some not so much. But I’m used to living alone. I’m not sure I want a man running my life.”

  She had a point. I was pretty set in my ways, too. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t interested in love. “I’m off to bed,” I said. “I have some letters and postcards to write. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  It was after eleven when I heard a faint knock at my door. I’d had my shower and was tucked beneath the covers, drowsy and warm. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if the sound I’d heard was outside or inside.

  The knock came again. I slid from the bed and tiptoed across the room. Opening the door a crack, I inhaled sharply. “What are you doing here?” I whispered. “Aren’t you afraid one of them will hear you?”

  Angus nudged me backward, slipped through the open door and closed it behind him. “I’ll be quiet,” he swore. He reached for the tiny lamp near my bed and turned it on.

  I knew I must look a fright. My hair was still damp when I went to bed, and now it fluffed out around my head like a lion’s mane.

  Angus stared at me, his gaze hot. “I’ve missed you.”

  I shifted my feet, my toes chilled against the hardwood floor. “I’ve been here all the time,” I reminded him. “You’re the one who’s been hard to find.”

  “I’ve worked myself into a stupor every day so I can sleep at night. I’ve never had a hard-on that lasted an entire week.”

  “Angus!” I put a hand to my throat where my pulse beat wildly. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

  “Why not? It’s true.” He crossed his arms over his chest, looking more like a combatant than a would-be lover.

  I wished I were wearing something a little more substantial. My thin tank top outlined my breasts and my nipples with mortifying clarity. I licked my lips, searching for something to say. “Um…”

  Angus had no trouble speaking. “I made reservations today,” he said. “In Oban. A single room with a king bed. Will that be satisfactory?”

  My heart swelled in my chest. The bottom dropped out of my stomach. “More than satisfactory.” I’d barely spoken to him in days, and now this.

  I saw his fists clench. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

  “We don’t have to wait,” I whispered. It was the bravest thing I had ever said to a man. Because this Scotsman, this Angus Munro, had seduced me without even trying.

  “I don’t want an audience,” he said. “We might be noisy.” He cast a large shadow on the opposite wall. He was hungry, his patience barely leashed.

  Everything he said stole my breath. I couldn’t help myself. I had to touch him. I wanted it more than anything, and at this hour, my self-control was paper-thin.

  When I placed my hand, palm flat on his chest, he flinched. Even through his shirt, his skin was hot. “We can be quiet,” I said, stroking the firm plane of his rib cage. “I don’t want to wait anymore.” I had such a short time in Scotland. A month sounded like a long stretch of days, but that was before I met Angus.

  Without warning, he scooped me up and carried me to the bed. We were both fully clothed. I trembled violently, no longer sleepy at all. Angus tucked me beneath the covers up to my armpits and then came down beside me on his back, on top of the elegant duvet.

  “This is safer,” he growled.

  I found myself miffed that I wasn’t irresistible. I had thrown myself at the man, for heaven’s sake. Now here he was, on my bed, but not in my bed. “A woman gets her feelings hurt when she’s rejected,” I said, feeling cranky and frustrated.

  He took my hand and placed it on top of his considerable erection. “Don’t be daft. You know I want you. It’s no’ a thing I can hide. But we have some time. Anticipation will make the moment all the sweeter when it comes.”

  I curled my fingers around his rigid length, imagining what it would be like when he was inside me. The man was a world-class athlete. He was strong. He had stamina. If I’d been a Victorian maiden, I might have called for the smelling salts about now.

  I loved how he groaned when I squeezed him experimentally. “I’ve never come across a man who wasn’t into immediate gratification.”

  “I want to know ye, lass.” He yawned suddenly, reminding me that he had been up since six that morning and had labored all day in the village. “Tell me about where you live…your family…your job.”

  It was a strange sort of foreplay, but I turned on my side and nestled against him as best I could with the covers between us. “It’s not as exciting as your story, for sure.” I put a hand on his chest, right over his heart, so I could feel him alive and vital beneath my fingertips.

  A great sigh lifted his torso. “I want to hear it.”

  “Well, let’s see. I’ve lived in Atlanta all my life. I’m an only child. My parents wanted a big family, but there were problems for my mother when I was born, so I was the end of the line. Because Mom wanted to be a stay-at-home parent, when I was a year old she opened a daycare at our house. Not long after that, Willow and McKenzie came into our lives.”

  “McKenzie. That’s a good Scottish name.”

  “Yes. McKenzie was named for her mother's family who made their fortunes in d
istilleries, so I'm sure there's a Scottish connection somewhere. Willow, on the other hand, will tell you she is one hundred percent blue collar. She’s the entrepreneur with her own beauty salon.

  “And you became a teacher.”

  “I love children, so it seemed a good fit.”

  “Do you hope to have several bairns of your own some day?”

  Angus’s eyes were closed, his face in profile. Thick lashes on tanned cheeks concealed his thoughts. It seemed like a leading question.

  “Probably. I haven’t given it much thought.”

  It was the first time I had lied to him. Like many women my age, the subject of babies was one I debated on a semi-regular basis. I’d left my twenties behind, and fertility dwindled with each passing year. But with a man in my bed, I found myself reluctant to dwell on the subject of procreation.

  This Scottish romance was supposed to be temporary and fun…the stuff of fantasy. Yet here was Angus, wanting to know me as he said. It seemed a dangerous precedent. How could I have wild, meaningless sex with a man who continued to endear himself to me as a whole person and not simply the subject of my Highland crush?

  Chapter 20

  While my conscience did battle with my instincts for self-preservation, Angus fell asleep. I lay beside him and listened to him breathe, feeling something I had never experienced before. I knew with utter certainty that I was meant to be here at this moment, with this man.

  The Scots had a strong Presbyterian background. A belief that certain events were preordained. Alongside that influence was the equally strong heritage of midsummer Druid festivals carried out in stone circles with homages to the sun and the moon.

  For my part, I attributed my current situation to something far more personal. I had set out on this trip to Scotland to find the hidden me…to understand who I was…to see if there was more to me than the woman I knew in Atlanta. Each new day here in the land of ancient stories and colorful legends, I felt myself opening to the sun, reveling in a rebirth of my own inner fire.