Page 97 of A Scottish Island Summer

There was a further volley of fireworks and they bloomed and then died, scarring the sky with their jewelled tails. I jumped at another bang and Logan grabbed me. I could feel his chest rising and falling against mine.

Everything was working in harmony, creating a magical complement of music, romance and excitement.

My eyes lingered on Logan’s chest before trailing upwards to look at him.

There was another pop in the sky and then a purple firework lit up the stars, like a giant starfish.

Logan was studying me, his attention trailing from my hair down to my mouth. ‘You got the moves like Jagger,’ he joked, pushing a stray hair back from my cheek.

I suddenly felt drunk, but not with alcohol. The scent of Logan, the proximity of him and the height and presence of him, reminded me of a wild, Scottish forest. He was sending me into a tailspin.

And what with the rush of ceilidh music and the spray of fireworks, the whole effect was addictive. The pretentious nightclubs I was used to couldn’t compete with the joyous laughter, shining eyes and enthusiastic clapping.

We heard our names being hollered over the melee. It was Iona and Robbie, who were throwing themselves into the dancing with abandon. We waved back, and a warm, satisfied glow coursed through me when I saw Robbie squeeze Iona’s hand.

‘You’re an enigma, Darcie.’

Logan’s voice dragged back my attention.

‘Hardly.’

‘Aye. You are. You make out you’re this career focused young woman with no interest in anything else and yet you go out of your way to make my sister and my friend happy.’

I straightened my shoulders. ‘It’s good to do a good turn for someone else. Spread some happiness. And just because I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone, doesn’t mean⁠—’

‘Why did you leave my place so fast the other night?’ he asked me, in a husky voice, bringing me screeching out of my dizzy, happy haze.

As I admired the glint in his eyes and his stubbled jaw, I was wondering the same thing.

Awkwardness took hold. ‘I didn’t.’

‘Darcie, you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.’ Logan angled his head to one side. ‘Well?’

I felt like I was trapped in some sort of spell. I couldn’t move. He’d inched closer. The truth was, I realised, that I didn’t want the spell to break. I wanted us to stay like this. ‘Things are complicated,’ I managed, frustrated that I was struggling to find the right words.

‘You’re in a relationship?’

‘No. I mean, I’m complicated.’

Logan pulled a face. ‘That old chestnut.’

‘It’s true.’ I groaned. ‘The people I meet in my career … well, a lot of them tend to be rather shallow.’

‘I’m not.’

I was losing myself in those mirror-like eyes of his. They were even more alluring in the dark. ‘I know you’re not. You’re anything but.’

‘Then why leave?’

Exasperation filled my chest. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Yes, you do.’

It was true. I did know. It was the fear drilling into me, of beginning to like someone only for them to leave or betray me—or both. It was inevitable, wasn’t it? I saw it so often in my line of work. People making big, brash declarations to one another, only for the relationship to come crashing down about their ears months later.

Promises made turned to dust, hearts broken, dreams shattered.

Who needed that? Life was complicated enough as it was.