Page 22 of A Scottish Island Summer

I snatched mine away. ‘Good. You understand that this is a glossy coffee table book and that it’s paramount I get great photos, right?’

‘I hope you capture my best side,’ joked Logan.

‘That’s assuming you have one.’ Iona smirked at her brother.

Logan delved into his jeans pocket and the movement made me notice his knees were clotted with wet mud and grass.

He pulled out a business card that had seen better days and handed it to me. I gripped onto it in the stiff breeze and saw it contained his email, address and mobile number, as well as details about his shop.

Logan carried on talking. ‘I’ll pull together a confirmed programme for our three-week itinerary and send it to your agent and publishers for approval. They’ve already pinged me their details.’

‘I bet they have,’ I ground out.

Logan glanced down at his phone as he tugged it out of his jeans pocket. ‘I’ll get that email fired off this afternoon, once I get cleared up and finished here.’

He flicked me a look. ‘This is going to be a challenge.’ His expression was indecipherable. I wasn’t sure whether he was referring to being my guide on Skye or me. Then he clapped his hands together and gave a wide smile. ‘Still, can’t wait to get started.’

Oh, God almighty. What was the matter with him? He was far too cheerful for my liking. It wasn’t normal. Or healthy.

He eyed me again. ‘We need to be prepared, Ms Freeman. We’re going to be camping out, not getting ready for a film premiere.’ His lips hinted at a smile. ‘What clothes and shoes have you brought with you? Waterproof trousers, jumpers, layers, walking boots, flats…?’

I look appalled. ‘Flats? I never wear flat shoes.’ I jutted out my chin. ‘You needn’t worry. I can assure you that when I travel anywhere, I’m always prepared.’

‘I’m sure you are,’ he glittered. ‘Something tells me not for wild camping, though.’

My thoughts drifted back to my guest room and my assorted designer outfits, the bottle of argan hair oil, my favourite Clarins body lotion and my palette of MAC eyeshadows.

His cupid bow lips flickered with amusement. ‘I’m sure the belongings you’ve brought would be great if we find ourselves having to give a Highland coo a makeover.’

I pushed my irritated hands into the pockets of my Dior jeans. ‘There’s no need for sarcasm, Mr Burns. Er, I mean, Logan.’ I pulled my hands out again and fiddled with the end of my ponytail as I grudgingly conceded. ‘Just call me Darcie.’

Logan studied me. ‘Alright. Be prepared or prepare to fail, Darcie.’

‘Excuse me?’

Logan glanced over at Iona, who was still eyeing us both with interest.

I noticed his eyes sliding down my designer jeans and to my feet. I was wearing my beige Fendi boots. ‘You’re not going camping in those. They’re a health hazard.’

My annoyed mouth shot open, but he carried on. ‘I’m responsible for your safety. You need proper walking boots.’ He folded his muscular arms. ‘Still, I bet you’ve got your mobile phone power bank with you. You won’t have forgotten that.’

‘Yes, of course I’ve brought that. I’m not stupid.’

Logan bit his bottom lip.

‘And I also bet you’ve remembered to pack your perfume.’

‘My favourite.’ I beamed with self-satisfaction. ‘Chanel.’

My smile quickly withered at Logan’s bemused expression.

He nodded. ‘See? How did I guess? But what about waterproof trousers? Hiking socks?’

I tried to look indifferent. ‘No. I did have a quick browse around the shops here yesterday, but I didn’t like anything I saw.’

Logan angled his head at me. ‘We’re not taking part in a fashion show.’

‘Ah! That’s where you’re wrong,’ I replied. ‘No social media influencer worth their salt misses the opportunity to tag what they’re wearing and provide links for their followers. I earn commission every time one of my followers buys something I’ve linked to,’ I said proudly.