Page 79 of A Scottish Highland Hideaway

The breath lodged in my throat when I realised it was Zach. He was hovering there, looking in at me with an injured expression on his face.

I darted out from behind the counter, but he realised I’d spotted him and began striding away. I couldn’t catch up, and the dusting of snow we’d had made everything slippery.

“Zach! Please! Wait!”

He glanced over his shoulder, hesitated, and then drew up.

I reached out to touch his coat sleeve. He stared down at my hand resting there.

“Please, Zach. Just give me five minutes.”

He flashed me an indecipherable look and the briefest of nods.

I encouraged him back to Flower Power and we stood together awkwardly in the shop doorway. From inside the shop, I could hear Christmas music but it didn’t ease the tension between us.

I slid Zach a charged glance.

God, he’s gorgeous.

I struggled to unscramble what I wanted to say. I hadn’t thought this through. A barrage of questions tumbled around in my head. In for a penny, in for a pound, as my dad would often remark. I gathered myself and took a step off the precipice. What did I have to lose?

“I know about the London Inquirer. I mean, I know something happened and you left.”

Zach’s face froze. “Excuse me?”

I felt my cheeks blanch. “I saw some stuff about it online.” I hesitated, trying to read the expression in his dark eyes. “Talk to me, Zach. Please.”

Zach’s face thundered. “You’ve been busy.”

“Why is it ok for you to poke around in other people’s lives but it’s not ok for me to do the same?”

He focused on the Christmas shoppers bustling by, their gift bags dangling and jostling. “What can I say? They let me go a couple of years back.” His broad shoulders shifted under his heavy coat. Zach rubbed at his face. “You don’t get it,” he ground out.

“Get what? Zach, talk to me. Please.”

He let out a weary sigh and hesitated. His dark eyes glittered. “I….” He gave his head a shake. “Forget it. I can’t.”

“Zach? What aren’t you telling me?”

But he pushed his gloved hands deeper into the pockets of his long coat.

“Look, if you’ll excuse me, I should get back to the hotel. I have to file a story by 5pm and then think about when I’m heading back to Glasgow.”

“So that’s it, is it?” I blurted, my breathing ragged in my chest. “You’re not even prepared to talk about it.”

Zach didn’t reply.

“You’re not prepared to let me in, are you?”

Zach shook his head. “What do you want me to say, Bailey? You didn’t tell me the truth about who you were.”

I sighed. “If you still can’t understand why I didn’t tell you, then I don’t know what else I can say. I didn’t do it out of malice or to make you look an idiot, Zach. I would never do that.” I gave him a pleading look. “I did it because I thought you were going to blow my life apart. You and Declan, between the two of you. Can’t you see that?”

Zach dropped his eyes to the snow-slicked pavement. “As if I would ever do anything to hurt you.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You were a complete stranger.” He still is, really, I thought. I wanted to trust him, but how could I? “Why were you chasing down the story if you weren’t going to publish anything?”

This was excruciating.