Chapter Eleven

The woman was a complete mystery.

One minute, she’d give as good as she got with that sharp tongue and equally sharp mind. The next she’d withdraw behind a shell of cold professionalism. It was like seeing two different people, and James was never sure which one would surface.

Then there was the Andrea who would sit on the floor with Emmy or improvise on the piano with such a joyous expression it made his heart flip. Why was she so determined to hide that part of herself?

James cursed himself for a fool. For a short moment, he’d thought he and Andrea had been building some sort of rapport, then he had to ruin it by pushing matters too far. Now, fifteen minutes into their drive down the Sleat peninsula, she still hadn’t said a word. She just sat stiffly in the seat, hands folded in her lap, staring into the distance. He’d wager she wasn’t seeing a bit of the glorious scenery flying by the window.

Why do you even care?

He didn’t. Or, he hadn’t, until he saw the look on her face as she watched the sunrise, as if years of worries had fallen from her shoulders. If he hadn’t witnessed the wistfulness in her expression as she talked about the restoration, he would have written it off to his imagination. But he knew that feeling well. It was too easy to let the demands of life suffocate him and drown out God’s still, small voice, until the days became just an endless list. Something inside him recognized she needed a breath as much as he did.

He left her to her musings as he took the two-lane road through a forested section of Sleat and followed the River Ord until it emptied out near the shore. When they reached an overlook where Ord Bay and Loch Eishort met, he pulled off onto the side of the road.

“Why are we stopping?”

“Because it’s worth a moment to appreciate. Come.”

Andrea climbed out of the car, and James circled to meet her on the other side. Immediately she pulled out her mobile phone and began to snap pictures of the view.

“Beautiful,” she said. “These will definitely help creative when they formulate their marketing plan.”

James gently pried her phone from her fingers and dropped it into the front pocket of his shirt. “I’m going to hold on to this for you.”

Andrea stared at him. “Give me my phone back.”

“It’s mine for now. You can have it back for your meeting.”

“How dare you!” Anger flashed in those gorgeous eyes, a sign she was going to launch into a tirade on his ungentlemanly behavior. Before she could try, he gripped her shoulders and turned her to face the view again. She went still, muscles tensed beneath his fingers.

“Relax,” he murmured into her ear. “Breathe. When you view it on a screen, you can’t really see.”

She threw a puzzled look over her shoulder, for a moment bringing her face close to his. If he just shifted forward a degree, he could capture her mouth with his own. She must have read the thought in his expression, because alarm flashed over her face. He quickly straightened and gave a little nod toward the scenery.

What was he thinking?

He took a deep breath and looked out at the loch, settling his own tumultuous thoughts. Rocks jutted from the choppy water, a stark brown contrast against the deep blue. Long shore grasses waved in the stiff sea wind, edging the sweep of sand in the distance. Just at the limits of their sight, boxy white cottages nestled in spring-green hills. He breathed in the salt air, listening to the soft lap of waves and the distant calls of seabirds. Beside him, Andrea closed her eyes, breathing deeply while the wind ruffled her hair, a slight smile stretching her lips.

She was beautiful. He couldn’t pry his eyes away from her. When was the last time a woman had pulled him this strongly?

Dangerous thoughts. He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned back against the car, forcing his gaze away from her. It was one thing to flirt and tease, to steal a kiss. The sudden squeeze in his chest was quite another. He recognized that feeling. It meant nothing good.

When she finally opened her eyes, he had his thoughts mostly under control.

“You’re right,” she murmured. “It’s amazing. Sort of desolate and yet . . . peaceful.”

He said nothing, but when she turned to him, he held out her phone.

“Keep it,” she said. “For now.”

He smiled. Maybe he was getting through to her after all. “On to our next stop, then?”

James stayed quiet in the car, not wanting to jar her from her peaceful frame of mind. She took in the landscape with a new light in her eye, smiling when he pointed out patches of wildflowers on the hillside or laughing at the spring lambs frolicking in the meadows. He didn’t question why it was so important she see his home through his eyes. She needed a few minutes away from her life as much as he did from his own.

His enjoyment dwindled as the time edged toward one o’clock, since he knew he would shortly hand her over to Ian. He put on the canned enthusiasm of a tour guide and said, “And that’s the end of our guided tour today. We should head back to Broadford. I did promise to deliver you on time.”

She nodded. He sensed her struggling for words, but in the end, she only said, “Thank you.”

Her husky tone did things to his gut he didn’t particularly appreciate. “For getting you there on time?”

“No, for this. For making me really see.”

It couldn’t be an easy admission for her. He barely kept himself from reaching for her hand, instead forcing his attention onto the road. “You’re welcome.”

The drive back to Broadford passed too quickly, even in companionable silence. He pulled into the hotel’s car park, noting Ian’s car in front of the tan stucco building with its dormered, shingled roof.

“How should I contact you when I’m finished?” Andrea asked, reaching for her bag, the professional once again in place.

James drew her mobile phone out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “I programmed my number in. Just call me when you’re finished. I have to go to market and pick up some things for dinner.”

Annoyance flashed across her face. “You could have asked.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind.” Actually, he’d known it would probably irritate her, but he hadn’t been able to resist. He rather liked the way she looked angry. And she was far easier to deal with irritated than when she looked at him with that searching, vulnerable expression.

Coward.

“Fine. I’ll call you when I’m done.” Andrea tucked the phone into her bag and slid out of the car without saying good-bye.

He watched her disappear into the front doors of the hotel and then dropped his head onto the steering wheel, banging it a few times for good measure. Idiot. Annoy her, then send her to lunch with his good-looking, personable brother. Brilliant planning.

He jerked the gear stick into reverse and backed out of the parking space, then pulled onto Broadford’s main road. It shouldn’t matter to him what she did or what she thought. He and Ian would sign the contract, and she would be on her way back to New York. Maybe she’d check in with him by phone once a month to make sure he was happy with the progress on the hotel, but other than that, he’d have no further contact with the beautiful American consultant.

But when he drove straight past the co-op grocery, he was forced to admit that whatever feelings she brought out, he wasn’t ready for it to be over.