Page 60 of The Christmas Highland Lodge

My heart took off in my chest. I swallowed and pushed myself upright. I suddenly felt all self-conscious and hot. I couldn’t look at him.

After a few moments’ hesitation, I raised my eyes to his.

He was watching me. Then he made a big show of looking at his watch. ‘Ok. Well. Right. I’d better be off. I’ve got a pile of paperwork to do.’

He unzipped his ski jacket to give it a dust off from the snow and straightened his fisherman’s jumper. I was sure I caught a glimpse of what looked like a black Marvel T-shirt underneath. I squinted at what was on his T-shirt. ‘Is that Spider-Man?’

‘It certainly is. The best superhero out there.’ He raised his barley-coloured knitted jumper to reveal a picture of Spider-Man crouching down, with one wrist extended out in his usual pose.

I tried not to be side tracked by the teasing glimpse of his taught stomach and smattering of dark hair. I hoped my voice hadn’t transformed into a ridiculous squeak. ‘What makes you say that?’

Blake looked at me, incredulous. ‘Really? You even have to ask that question?’ He lowered his jumper again and crossed his arms as he sat there. ‘He has a dry sense of humour and he isn’t invincible. He has to work hard to beat the bad guy.’

‘Like you have to work hard to conquer all those mountains you climb?’

His expression softened. ‘I guess so.’ He examined me. ‘So, who’s your favourite superhero then?’

‘Deadpool.’

‘Oh, interesting choice. Why’s that then?’

‘Because he’s funny, fiercely loyal – oh, and he loves Mexican food.’

Blake remained sitting beside me for a few more moments, in no hurry to move. Our eyes shone across at one another, with just the glow of the empty cabins and the woodland for company. Finally, he scrambled to his feet. ‘Though I would love to sit and talk to you about superheroes all day, I suppose I’d better go. No rest for the wicked.’

Oh, help me, Lord. There was that sexy twinkle again.

‘Catch up with you soon, Christmas fairy.’

Blake dusted the snow from his jeans, hoisted his backpack over his shoulders and gave me a mock salute as he strode away through a flurry of snow.

I watched him leave, a weight of sudden disappointment taking me by surprise. I hadn’t wanted him to go. Not yet.

Ok, so that had been unexpected.

Blake’s comments about Christmas bounced around in my head. Why did he dislike it so much? He was as deep as Loch Strathe.

I thought again of just a few moments ago, when his lids were fluttering and the snowflakes were fringing his lashes and beard; when he grinned and his face lit up; the feathery creases at his eyes. There was his apology too, about complaining to Max about my ideas for the cabins. It was such a pity he seemed to have such a downer on this time of year. I realised I wanted him to confide in me about it. Very much. There was so much he wasn’t telling me. But why?

I tried to ignore the way my heart was still fizzing in my chest at the proximity of him just now and sprang to my feet. Like I needed to get involved with anyone after my disastrous relationship with Kyle! Christmas fever. That’s what it was I was feeling.

The snow was spiralling over the cabins, lacing them with icing sugar, but it wasn’t spinning from the sky quite as fast as it had been.

I bit my lip. My insides were jumping.

I was beginning to think there was a lot more tenderness to Blake than he cared to admit. It just seemed such a shame that he was carrying this pessimistic view of this time of year. If only he would let me show him how magical Christmas could be.

Chapter Sixteen

Craig Brae reminded me of a delectable cake the next morning, sandwiched between layers of snow, like frosted icing.

I stood for a few minutes by my sitting room window, marvelling at the Christmas trees glistening in the houses and in the distance, the roofs and pavements of the main street smudged with amber street lamps, before they were switched off until the evening.

My thoughts harped back to my conversation yesterday with Blake up at the cabins.

I couldn’t believe my eyes when he joined me in the snow and lay beside me, all broad chest and long legs, making snow angels; the way he had thrown his head back to swallow the flakes.

I tried not to dwell on his long lashes fluttering and his muscular body inches away from me. It was as though the breath had been stolen from me.