Page 42 of A Scottish Island Summer

The silver rush of the waterfalls and the bustling leaves framing them were almost Disney-like in their perfection.

I panned my camera towards Logan. ‘Can I record you talking about this place for a minute or two please? Any interesting facts?’

Logan pretended to pout at me. ‘Only if you promise to make sure you capture my best side.’

I let out a cross between a laugh and a grunt and pressed record.

Logan took up a seat on a nearby rock and proceeded to explain the history of Dunvegan Castle. ‘The gardens here began life sometime in the eighteenth century. They’re made up of a Water Garden, which is where we are now, the Rose Garden, the walled garden and the woodland walks.’ He paused and pointed around. ‘The woodland walks really contain so many hidden treasures with an eclectic mix of flowers, exotic plants, specimen trees and pools.’

‘And the pools are fed by the waterfalls?’ I asked, staring down the camera at him. He did have the most amazing eyes.

He nodded at me. ‘They are. The waterfalls and streams feed all the way down to the sea.’

The tumble of green shades and brilliant emerald lawns were reminiscent of a Constable painting.

I turned my camera round to take a couple of photos of myself, admiring a swathe of snow drops.

I reached down and stroked their brilliant white, bulbus heads. Then I swivelled the camera back to Logan.

He was watching me, a small smile flirting at the corners of his mouth. ‘You’re not as much of an ice maiden as you like people to believe.’

I pulled a sarcastic expression, hoping to conceal the sudden colour flashing across my face. ‘I don’t know whether to be pleased or offended.’

When he continued to study me, I cleared my throat.

There were box hedges running around the length of the gardens, which made me picture the likes of Henry the Eighth swaggering around in his finery—if he’d owned the place, of course.

After visiting the Walled Garden, with its gravelly paths and bushy trees, we ventured down another path, so I could take some more photos of Dunvegan Loch.

When we were done, Logan insisted on heading back to the Coral Beach area. I began to come out in a cold sweat, fearful that he was going to insist we wild camp again tonight. That was until he stopped laughing at my panicked expression and explained we were going to have dinner at a local restaurant close to the beach.

It was a sweet place, with fishing nets tacked to the walls and paintings of the North Atlantic in its full, stormy splendour.

Logan opted for seafood chowder. He’d told me about the excellent reputation of Skye’s shellfish so I decided to have the monkfish scampi with chunky fries and home-made tartare sauce. It was divine.

We’d stayed far longer around Dunvegan Loch, the castle and grounds than I anticipated. It was too beautiful a day not to.

* * *

My legs trudged back up the steps of The Gorse, as though I’d just undertaken a marathon. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be so grateful to see this little bed and breakfast guest house.

I paused and gazed up the dark street, lit only by the throng of glowing street lamps. It didn’t seem like it’d just been this morning that I’d been thrashing about in the sea, trying to save a dolphin, whilst nearly naked.

My cheeks sizzled with colour at the thought of Logan seeing my bum.

Logan stood a few steps below me now and he thrust both his hands into the pockets of his canvas trousers. ‘Something tells me you’ll sleep well tonight, Ms City Slicker.’

I tried to stifle a big, gaping yawn and failed.

He looked up, appreciating the clear night sky and the tumble of stars. ‘I hope I’m showing you how special Skye is, Darcie.’

I waggled my brows. ‘Are you fishing for compliments?’

‘Is that a yes?’

It was my turn to eye the stars above us, now popping like shards of bright glass in the blueberry-black night. Darkness descended so quickly here. ‘Goodnight, Logan. Sleep well.’ I hesitated and wrapped my arms around myself. ‘And thanks for rescuing me and Flipper this morning.’

He planted both hands on his hips and struck a Superman pose in the middle of the street. ‘Anytime.’

I couldn’t help it; my face broke into a grin.

As soon as I reached the comfort of my room, I yanked off my clothes and slipped into clean pyjamas. I was relieved to sidle into the fresh, crisp bedding, and I fell asleep listening to the gentle hush of the waves in the distance, recalling the way the Skye sunshine had drizzled through my hair in the garden. And the way Logan had smiled at me as he said goodnight.