CHAPTER ELEVEN

SERENA FIT THE KEY INTO THE LOCK, balancing a box on her hip as she pushed the door to the croft house open. Even though clouds still threatened overhead, the ever-present rain had finally tapered off, giving her a small window in which to move her trunkful of possessions into their new, if temporary, home.

She wandered into the kitchen and set the box on the table, where she found a note in Malcolm’s messy scrawl: Welcome home. I’ll be back at 8 if you need any help getting warmed up.

Very funny. Leave it to him to lace an innocent welcome note with innuendo.

Except maybe he didn’t mean it as innuendo. Serena shivered and rubbed her arms. The outside temperature had risen several degrees, but the inside remained as cold as it had been when she first looked at the croft house. Hadn’t he turned on the heat as he said he would? She went to the unit on the far side of the kitchen and touched the radiator coils. Frigid.

Too late she remembered her insistence that she could handle the job herself. She knelt before the unit and searched for the knob that would open the valve to let the hot water in. And realized that there was no knob, only a screw that required a spanner to open.

She sat back on her heels, frustrated. She could wait for Malcolm to come home from work and do it for her as part of his duties as landlord. Or she could drive to the hotel and get a set of adjustables. Both of which felt like letting Malcolm win. No doubt he was expecting her to do one of those very things.

Instead, Serena got back into her car and turned toward Broadford, where the nearest hardware store was located. She really should have tools at hand anyway, especially this far away from the nearest handyman. Forty-five minutes later, she was back with a full set of adjustable spanners in different sizes. After checking that the boiler had been filled—it had been—she turned it on to heat the water while she put away the few kitchen items she’d brought from home. This croft house, unlike the cottage rental on Sleat, had only a handful of pots, utensils, and plates in the kitchen cabinets. She would have to go home for the rest. No point in owning a spare set when this was just a temporary arrangement.

Serena had their clothes hung in their small wardrobes and folded into the narrow chests of drawers when the boiler finally came up to temperature. She went around to the main radiator in the lounge and bled out the air from the system until water spurted into the catch bowl she placed beneath it. Then all there was left to do was open the rest of the valves.

Malcolm had to think she would be waiting on him to come home and turn them on for her. He probably imagined her shivering in her winter coat and cursing her own stubbornness. Clearly she didn’t need him, evidenced by the heat beginning to radiate from the metal coils.

She spent the next several hours cleaning every surface of the kitchen and bath with supplies she’d brought from Nairn, until she was satisfied she had banished every last germ. Only then did she allow herself to plop onto her sofa and sit back contentedly. The croft house was perfect. Quaint and traditional but still comfortable. It was just what she’d had in mind when she envisioned their island interlude on Skye.

There was enough time to go to the co-op for groceries before she had to pick up Em and Max from Muriel’s. Maybe there would even be time to bake some of her signature shortbread together before supper.

When she brought her children to their new home, their reactions were exactly as she’d hoped. “This is it?” Em asked, jumping out of the car the instant Serena parked. “It’s so tiny and cute!”

Serena retrieved Max from the car seat, and both children bolted for the front door. “You each have your own bedroom. Go have a look.” They darted inside as soon as Serena unlatched the door, but she lingered on the front porch for a moment, her eyes drawn to the house next door, barely visible through the bare trees on the property line. The drive was empty. She didn’t expect to have much contact with Malcolm outside of work anyway.

“Mum, look!”

Serena dragged herself inside toward Em’s excited voice. After the children explored every corner of their new home, she set them up at the table to help her measure and mix ingredients for shortbread.

“I love it here,” Em said, her eyes shining over the dusting of flour on her nose. “It’s like a little fairy-tale cottage, isn’t it?”

Serena smiled over her shoulder. “It certainly is. Our own little place in the woods, just the three of us.”

Serena started awake, her eyes snapping open and searching the dark. Her alarm clock showed it was just after eleven. What had woken her? Was it simply the unfamiliar sounds of their new accommodations, the settling of the old house? As she listened, she caught the sound again, faintly: Max, calling her name.

She threw aside her duvet and took the stairs as quickly as she dared in the dark. Once she reached the bottom floor, she knew something was wrong. The cold damp hit her like a physical force, the contrast between her toasty loft and the icy lower floor causing gooseflesh to break out over her bare arms and legs.

When she entered Max’s room, he was sitting up in bed, his eyes wide. “It’s really cold, Mummy!”

She placed a hand on his radiator, even though she knew the answer. Frigid.

“Mum?” Em poked her head into Max’s room, her duvet wrapped around her shoulders. “My room’s cold. What happened to the rads?”

“I don’t know, sweetie, but the one upstairs is working. Why don’t you climb into my bed while I figure it out?”

They immediately scampered out of the room, their feet pounding up the wooden steps. Serena leaned against the wall with a groan, then jerked away when her bare skin hit cold plaster. Clearly the insulation in this old house left something to be desired if the temperature had dropped so quickly after the radiators turned off.

Blast Malcolm. But no, she had only herself to blame. Had she taken his offer of help, he would have turned them on and tested them thoroughly on Friday. Could they wait it out until tomorrow? The sprawl of her already-sleeping children across her bed answered for her. If she were to get any rest tonight, she’d have to swallow her pride, no matter how bitter it tasted. Maybe Malcolm would still be awake. She found her mobile phone and dialed his number. It went straight to voice mail.

Serena wavered for a long moment. Then she yanked on flannel bottoms and her cardigan, thrust her feet into her wellies, and marched next door. Light glowed through the upstairs window. He’d said they had the same view through their bedroom windows, so that had to be his. He was still awake.

This is a bad idea. A very bad idea. I should just leave.

She forced herself to raise her hand and knock.

The porch light flipped on, and moments later Malcolm opened the door, dressed in a T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms not unlike hers, his feet bare. He looked over her disheveled state, a lazy smile stretching his lips. “Why, hello, Mrs. Stewart. I didn’t expect a middle-of-the-night visit from you. At least not so soon.”

Serena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Like it or not, she needed his help. “The radiators died. It’s getting cold in the house.”

“Is that right?” He braced a muscular arm against the doorframe, his smile widening to full amusement.

The infuriating man was going to make her say it. “The kids’ rooms are freezing. Can you . . . will you come over and take a look?”

“All you had to do was ask.” He straightened and dropped his arm. “Go on back. I’ll get my tools.”

Serena had to swallow down a lump that tasted like pride and gratitude mixed, neither palatable. “Thank you.”

“Was it that hard?”

For once he seemed serious, not as though he was baiting her. She gave him a lopsided smile and stepped off the stoop. “You have no idea.”

“I’ll be right there.”

She walked quietly back to the house, her chest feeling tight for a reason she couldn’t pinpoint. She should be grateful, and she was. He could have given her a much harder time about rousing him in the middle of the night. He could have refused. But he’d done neither.

When she let herself into the croft house, she wavered before giving in and heading to the bathroom to brush her teeth and smooth her hair into a ponytail. She was just checking on Em and Max again when a light knock sounded at the door.

Malcolm had dressed in jeans and a heavy jacket, and his toolbox was in hand. When she let him in, he pitched his voice low. “All the rads are cold?”

“All but the one in the loft.”

“Okay then.” He flicked on the lights as he went and knelt before the radiator in the lounge, feeling the coils. “They were working earlier?”

She nodded.

“In that case, they probably just need to be balanced. The hot water likes to stay upstairs, and it can’t get back down to the ground floor.”

“Max and Em are sleeping in my bed, though.”

“I’ll be quiet.” He pulled a torch and a spanner from the toolbox, then gestured for her to precede him up the stairs.

She stayed out of his way on the other side of the bed while he knelt beside the radiator, shining the torch’s beam on the valve. Ten seconds later, he stood.

“That was it?” she whispered in disbelief.

“That was it. You had the valve completely open. It really only needs a quarter turn.”

Serena followed him down the stairs, muttering to herself, “I should have had you do this in the first place.”

“Do my ears deceive me, or did Serena Stewart just admit defeat?”

Serena made a face. “Not defeat. I did turn them on; I just never knew radiators needed to be balanced.”

“Sorry about that. I should have insisted on doing it.”

“You wanted me to come running for help.”

“And you did. You simply lasted twelve hours longer than I anticipated.” He threw her a grin, but his tone was almost self-deprecating. An answering smile rose to Serena’s face. He could get some serious mileage out of this one, but he was being kind. He packed his tools again, then stood. “I’ll wait a couple of minutes to make sure the other ones are heating.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I got you out of bed in the middle of the night.”

“Don’t worry.” His smile flashed, just as mischievous and suggestive as ever. “I can think of several ways you can make it up to me.”

She quelled the answering jitter in her middle before it could get started. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“Serena, why do you keep pretending this thing between us doesn’t exist?”

“I’m your boss, and apparently now you are my landlord. Other than that, we don’t have a thing.”

“We have a thing, whether you admit it or not. But if the fact that we have a work relationship bothers you, we can set some ground rules.”

“What would those be exactly?”

“Work stays at work. Home stays at home. And while I do have a certain responsibility as a landlord, I doubt midnight repair calls are part of the job. So I think you might owe me.”

The teasing tone was back, but something unsettlingly intense had crept into his eyes. She swallowed. “You’re very persistent.”

“You have no idea.” He held her gaze a moment longer, then nodded toward the bedrooms. “Why don’t you check the other rads so we can go back to bed?”

It was the escape she’d been waiting for. She rushed to Em’s room first, then Max’s, both of which were beginning to heat. Thanks to Malcolm. As much as she hated to admit it, she really did owe him.

“Good?” he asked when she returned.

“Yes, thank you.” She paused. “I mean that.”

“You’re welcome. Sleep well.”

She closed the door behind him and resisted the urge to peek out the window. He was right, though. They did have a thing. She just had absolutely no idea where it would lead.