Page 98 of A Scottish Island Summer

And how on earth could I replicate what my late parents had? Their relationship had been like something out of a Disney movie. The loving, fun and committed life they’d had together, had been the stuff of dreams.

Anything else would pale in comparison and I wasn’t prepared to put myself through it.

My eyes searched out Logan’s. Despite my inward insistence that I wouldn’t allow myself to develop feelings for this man, the whole situation was intoxicating, the brisk night air, the crackles and spurts of the fireworks, the whirl of the bagpipes, Logan’s hands on me… ‘I didn’t think it would be a good idea to stay,’ I faltered.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I wanted to stay,’ I blurted out. ‘I didn’t want to leave. I really didn’t. But it wouldn’t have been a good idea. It would’ve made things messy.’

He was so close to me; I could make out the tips of his lashes and the angle of his jaw underneath his dark brown stubble. ‘You know you’re attracted to me. Stop pushing me away, Darcie,’ he pressed.

My heart took off at speed. ‘Logan, it’s not as simple as that.’

‘Isn’t it? All this stand-offish, cool exterior of yours. It’s just an act.’

I let out a gasp as the clapping and cheering along to the music built up around us in the dark.

‘Do you want to know what I think?’ he carried on, his gorgeous face suddenly closer to mine. ‘I think you’re scared of letting anyone see the real you. You think that by keeping people at a distance and pretending that you’re this ice queen, it’ll save you.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ I laughed nervously. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. Save me from what?’

Logan’s eyes lit up with frustration in the dark. ‘Darcie…’ I could feel my legs melting as Logan’s gaze travelled from my hair down to my lips. His eyes were sparkling with something that made my breath come faster.

What was I thinking? What was I doing?

I wanted him to kiss me, here amongst the fireworks, the stars, the amber bonfire. I wanted his lips against mine, taking them over and over. Sod the protestations I’d made when I got here and first clapped eyes on him. I’d been lying to myself.

I couldn’t pull away. I didn’t want to.

My body was yelling to press itself against Logan’s.

He groaned. ‘Oh, sod it.’

I let out a little moan as his mouth hovered over mine, my pent-up emotions about him tumbling out. I knew what I was doing went against the promise I’d made to myself not to open my feelings up to the possibility of being shattered. It went against everything I’d said I would do.

But the adrenalin charging through me was like a drug I couldn’t resist and I knew if I turned and walked away right now, I’d regret it. Just like I did when I made my pathetic excuses and headed home the other night.

But just as we were about to give in to a kiss that now felt like an inevitability, we were interrupted by a sudden burst of agitated and raised voices.

Disappointment rocketed through me, and Logan let out a frustrated sigh.

We tilted our foreheads against one another and he gave me a small, private smile as a number of the locals halted their conversations and even the ceilidh band drizzled their Scottish medley to a halt.

We turned and squinted through the darkness where, several feet away, someone was approaching while letting out loud angry expletives. Despite feeling drunk with the effect of almost kissing Logan, I did what I could to focus. ‘Isn’t that Gabriel Jamieson?’

Logan nodded. ‘Aye, and it looks like he’s four sheets to the wind.’

Stumbling and his mottled face contorted, Gabriel performed a sarcastic bow. ‘Ah. Here she is. Here’s my wife. The lovely Chrissie. Isn’t she grand?’

Heated murmurs rose up from the intrigued spectators.

A grey-haired man in red tartan trousers, who’d been dancing with his wife, started to make his way towards Gabriel. ‘Come on, Gabe. Let’s get you home, eh? You need a strong coffee.’

Gabriel shrugged away from the man’s outstretched hand. ‘Och, away with you, Bill. I’m not needing coffee. I need to see my wife!’

Chrissie moved closer towards Gabriel, with Conall in tow. Her cheeks were flaming almost as much as the bonfire.

‘Uh-oh,’ murmured Logan. ‘This could turn nasty.’