Page 48 of Snowy Surprises in the Highlands

He raised his eyebrows. ‘You did not just compare me to a deranged serial killer.’

Perhaps that was a step too far, Bella, he hasn’t tried to murder you… yet. ‘All I’m saying is that looks aren’t everything.’

‘Your cop not a looker then?’

She scowled. ‘That’s not what I’m saying at all. And I’m not having this conversation with you any longer.’

‘Look, can we please go eat and discuss my ideas already? I wasn’t kidding, I’ve been lifting some serious weights this mornin’ and it’s made me damn hungry.’ He flexed his biceps and grinned.

He really doesn’t know when to give up.

Bella reluctantly followed Carlton down the stairs, and through the foyer, past paint pots, ladders and all manner of construction detritus, to the dining room and there, in the centre of the vast space, was a single table with a white cloth, two chairs, candles, a bottle of white wine and a variety of dishes laid out. It looked like something Harris would prepare for her at home on a romantic occasion. It was presumptuous, and once again, inappropriate.

‘Come on before it gets completely cold.’

A delicious aroma of spices reached Bella’s nose, and her stomach betrayed her with a growl. ‘I’m not actually hungry,’ she lied, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

‘Suit yourself. Mind if I eat?’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Okay, so…’ He began to spoon Greek salad complete with the crumbliest feta cheese onto his plate along with what appeared to be lamb koftas. Then he spooned tzatziki onto the plate and licked his thumb and finger. The food looked and smelled rather delicious, but Bella wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting that. ‘The games room…’ he said through a mouthful of food as he opened the bottle of white wine and poured some into each of the two glasses that were on the table.

‘I’m driving,’ she told him, shaking her head when he offered her one of the glasses.

‘Oh, come on, one won’t hurt.’

‘I don’t drink and drive in any amount. Not only am I not stupid and value my life, but the police on Skye have a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to drink driving, and I should know because I’m marrying one of them. Now what about these plans?’

For the next thirty minutes, Carlton talked enthusiastically about his idea for a games room at the rear of the hotel in the old laundry building as he polished off the whole bottle of wine, rather too quickly in Bella’s opinion. But he didn’t want just any games room, he wanted a casino-style place for residents to be able to play the tables and have ‘a little fun’, something he seemed obsessed with, and Bella wondered how on earth he was going to make a go of the serious part of the business, which he never seemed to mention or acknowledge.

To Bella his ideas seemed a little crass and the antithesis of the whole vibe she had created for the beautiful old place. ‘You do realise you’ll need permissions from the relevant authorities to have gambling on the premises, don’t you? And what have your parents said about this? It’s their hotel, after all, and it doesn’t really seem to fit in with the overall ethos of the place,’ Bella said, unsure as to whether such a place was needed or, what’s more, wanted in a peaceful, rural location such as this that would exude romance once finished.

His jaw clenched under his skin. ‘Of course I’ve spoken to them. I have carte blanche to do what I want with the old laundry,’ he informed her tersely. ‘I’m in charge.’ He had the attitude of a spoiled toddler. ‘It’s my hotel.’

Bella’s phone vibrated and she picked it up to see a message from Harris.

Hey beautiful. How is it going? Are you ok? Has he got the message?

She hit reply.

All good. I think it’s finally sunk in for him. Love you.

She put her phone back in her bag and put her bag on the floor.

‘Who was that?’ Carlton asked, nodding to her phone. ‘The ball and chain? Checking that you haven’t had a better offer?’

‘He knows that wouldn’t happen. There is no better offer out there.’

Carlton sucked air through his teeth. ‘Okay, okay. I get it. You’re marrying Mr Perfect. Jeez. What is it you Scots say? That’s me telt?’ His attempt at her accent was terrible.

‘Aye, that’s about right.’

He ran his hands back through his hair and rested them atop his head. ‘I give up already. I never have to work this hard to get a woman into bed.’

‘I’ve told you right from the start that it won’t be happening, Carlton, ever.’ She hoped he was being truthful, about the giving up part anyway.

‘Okay… okay. Look, while you’re here can we go on up and check out the presidential suite? I have some ideas for that too.’