Page 37 of A Scottish Highland Hideaway

Standing there with the shards of heavy Heather Moore rain pelting down behind him, he reminded me of some wild, historical hero who’d just made his way across windswept moors to declare passionate love for a willowy heroine.

His black hair was flopping forward, looking damp but inviting.

What I was about to say to Marcus dried up in my throat as my gaze collided with Zach’s.

An odd feeling zipped through me. He looked delectable.

Oh no. No. Absolutely not.

He was the enemy. He was the Kryptonite to my Superman. And what had I promised myself? That I wouldn’t get involved with anyone again. I could only trust myself. It was the safest way.

I raised my chin, annoyed that my ears were morphing into a bright shade of pink. “Good afternoon, Mr Stern. How can I help you?”

My attention strayed to Marcus. I noticed one of his brows had arched up towards his hairline. He was watching the two of us as though he’d stumbled across an intriguing thriller on Netflix.

Amber was trying not to make it obvious she was observing everything too, even though she was supposed to have gone to tidy up the stock room for me.

Zach flashed me a long look. “Oh, I’m sure you can help me, Ms McArthur. Whether or not you will is another matter.” He took a few slow, deliberate steps towards me. “I’d appreciate a quick chat.”

I tried to look nonchalant. “About what?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his long, stylish coat. “I’d prefer to talk in private, if that’s all right.”

I looked at Marcus, mentally willing Zach Stern and his beautiful dark eyes to bugger off back to Glasgow. “But my brother has just arrived for a visit and I’m afraid we’re busy catching up.”

Zach meandered casually away, as though he was browsing the Christmas wreath selection.

Marcus pulled an irritated expression and whispered, “I’m not five, Anastasia!” He jerked his head at Zach and continued to speak in hushed tones. “You go and do what you have to do with Mr Hottie over there.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Zach. Heat rose up my neck. “I don’t have to do anything with him. He’s a right pain in the arse.”

“I’ll keep an eye on your brother,” insisted Amber. “He’ll be fine.”

Marcus pulled a sarcastic face. “Hello? I’m sitting right here, you know.”

He appraised Zach approvingly. “I know I’m off men,” he hissed out of the corner of his mouth, “and they’re all utter bastards and selfish arses, but…”

“But what?”

Zach was now perusing a couple of my yucca plants, unaware he was the sole topic of conversation.

“But that one’s delicious!”

“Marcus!” I insisted. “It’s not like that. I mean, there’s nothing… He’s an arrogant tit! I can’t stand the man.”

Amber giggled. “Then why have you gone red, boss?”

“No, I haven’t.”

My brother peered at me. “Yes, you have. I could fry an egg on your cheeks.”

I faffed and flustered at the counter. “I haven’t a clue what you two are on about.”

I turned and bathed Zach in what I hoped was a cool smile. He abandoned his browsing of the nearby Christmas plants and strode back over. “Come with me, Mr Stern,” I said grudgingly.

He pinned me to the spot for a moment, his expression indecipherable. “Please, call me Zach.”

I blinked back at him. “Oh. Right.” I cleared my throat. I didn’t want to appear rude or give him any glimmer of suspicion about me. “Well, in that case, call me Bailey.” Was this some sort of awkward truce? Or was he trying to lull me into a false sense of security? Make me think we’d hit some sort of understanding, when in fact, he wanted to bleed me dry of any information I might have?