Chapter Nine

Andrea slept only a few hours despite her exhaustion, and she awoke while the sky was still dark, her heart thudding a staccato rhythm against her ribs. It took her only a few seconds to remember she was on the Isle of Skye, but by then the damage had been done. She was already ticking off her mental to-do list. Sleep would not be returning anytime soon.

She swung her legs from beneath the heavy down comforter and danced across the cold floor to retrieve her laptop. She flicked on the light at the desk and booted up the computer, yawning while it cycled through its start-up sequence.

“Focus,” she said aloud. “By this time tomorrow you’ll be on your way back home and away from Skye forever.”

With a few hours’ distance from her last encounter with James, she could look at the situation more objectively. Of course she was attracted to the man. What woman wouldn’t find him appealing in some way? She had probably just spent too much time dating serious, stolid businessmen in New York if a little banter and a smile could make her heart skip a beat. Heaven knew most of the others hadn’t made it to the expected second-date kiss. She didn’t even bother to find a date for work functions anymore. She’d overheard the speculations about her personal preferences, but she wasn’t about to change her life to prove she was interested in the opposite sex.

I like men. I just don’t particularly trust them. James MacDonald was a perfect case in point.

“And that is enough time spent on that subject.” She retrieved a folder from her bag and began to put together the materials for her meeting with Ian later that day. James wouldn’t be impressed with marketing collateral, but Ian seemed like he’d expect it. Details on company history, their capabilities, and a sheet of recommendations from past and current clients went into the foil-embossed folio with a copy of her business card neatly inserted into the front slot.

Andrea was contemplating what else to include when a light knock came at the door. She padded across the room and cracked it open.

James stood there, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t wake you, did I? I saw the light.”

“No, I was just getting ready for the meeting later.” She opened the door wider, letting in a rush of cold air. Her tissue-thin T-shirt gave her little barrier against the chill, and she hugged her arms to herself. “What’s up?”

“I want you to see something. Put on a coat and come outside?”

“Okay. Give me a minute.” She shut the door, then pulled on her coat and buttoned it over her pajamas. She thrust her feet into her single pair of practical footwear—lightweight running shoes—and put her hand on the door before she thought better of it and dashed back to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She caught her reflection in the mirror and made a face at her sleep-tousled hair.

“Too bad,” she muttered. “Anyone who comes to my door this early in the morning will have to take what they get.”

Outside, mist hung in the air, and the overnight drizzle had left a film of moisture over everything. She inhaled the cold, instantly energized by the bite in her lungs and the chill on her skin. James waited several steps away, holding two steaming travel mugs.

She gratefully took the mug he held out and sipped the rich, strong coffee while she studied him over its rim. Unlike her, he looked ready to start the day, wearing a button-down chambray shirt and a pair of comfortably faded jeans. He had thrown a weathered barn coat on against the cold, but it was unzipped, despite the fact she was already freezing. It was unfair that he could manage to make such a casual outfit look so good. He was like some annoyingly perfect J.Crew model.

But that was a dangerous line of thought. “What did you want me to see?”

“Come with me.” James gestured with his head toward the deck behind her cottage.

She followed him and then stopped abruptly at the edge of the deck. The dim morning light cast the rippling clouds in shades of white and gray and silver, reflecting them back on the glassy surface of the sound. Fragile shreds of mist hung suspended in the air. Rocky mountains rose sharply in front of them, setting off the slim white column of the old Ornsay lighthouse. For a moment, Andrea forgot how to breathe, the incredible beauty of the scenery striking her in the chest.

James watched her silently, and she thought she glimpsed a smile from the corner of her eye, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away. The sun was rising rapidly now, the colors changing from silver-gray to gold and streaking pink through the clouds, and she stared in rapt amazement at the fast-shifting landscape.

“This is my favorite time of day on Skye,” he said.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. You feel it right here.” She touched her heart, then instantly felt embarrassed. She wasn’t usually the type to wax eloquent over scenery, however much it might touch her.

James just nodded. “Living in London, sometimes I forget there are still places on earth that look like this. I never get tired of it, and it never stops being a surprise.”

“It’s harder to take it for granted when you’re away.” Andrea sank down onto a wood lounge chair and cupped the travel mug, letting the warmth thaw her hands while she breathed in the morning quiet.

“Indeed. I confess I’ve considered moving back to Skye more than once, but I always wonder if I would appreciate it as much if I lived here.”

“I’m not sure I could ever get tired of this view.”

He studied her, and the scrutiny heated her cheeks. “I thought I’d show you the hotel after breakfast and then drive you to Broadford to meet Ian. Does that suit?”

“It does.”

“I’m going to head up to the house about seven. Join me?”

She smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good. I’ll see you in a bit, then.” He disappeared around the cottage and left her alone to enjoy the sunrise.