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“No.”
He sat in silence until the town came into view. “I thought you had a problem saying no.”
“Seems you’ve become an exception to the rule.”
If he looked smug before, now he seemed ready to take a bow and accept an award. “Guess that makes me special then.”
She pressed her lips together to stop herself from describing all the many ways he was truly special—from his antisocial attitude to his penchant for firing staff. He had to be the most annoying man in Scotland. Which begged the question, was she really in love with him, or just sad, lonely and deluded?
“Not a-bloody-gain.” The car screeched to a halt beside the drystane wall that circled the old Church of Scotland building.
Donna watched as he stalked over to stand under the boy who was halfway to the top of the wall, clinging on to the stones for dear life.
“What did I tell you about this?” he snapped up at the child.
“Sorry, Mr Stewart,” little Cameron said.
Duncan shook his head, held out his arms and gave the order, “Jump.”
Without even a second’s hesitation, the wee boy launched himself off the wall and into Duncan’s waiting arms. He put him down on the grass and held his shoulders as he looked him in the eye.
“Stop climbing that damn wall. If I catch you at it again, I’m taking you to the police and they can deal with you.”
The five-year-old nodded solemnly. “I won’t.” And then he ran off down the road to his house.
Duncan climbed back into the car. “He’ll break his neck one day. That’s the fourth time I’ve got him off that wall this year. It’s his pure luck that I’m here whenever he gets stuck.”
“Or,” Donna said as he drove back onto the road, “it could be that from his house he can see your car as it comes into town, and he runs for the wall.”
He slammed on the brakes and looked between Cameron’s house and the road. The wee boy had a good view of oncoming cars for miles, and Duncan’s silver SUV was distinctive.
“I’m going to wring his neck.” He started the car again. “Next time I’m no’ stopping. He can bloody well fall, for all I care.”
It was a wasted threat. They both knew he’d stop.
“Maybe you should try talking to his mother?” Donna said.
“Ah cannae.” Duncan’s face turned a deep shade of red. “She flirts with me.”
Donna covered her mouth in an attempt to smother her laughter. It didn’t work. Duncan glared at her as he rounded the pub building and parked behind it.
“I feel I should warn you,” he said as they walked into the pub. “I’m very good at pool.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Is that your way of telling me you don’t plan on letting me win?”
“I’m also very competitive.”
“And short-tempered.”
He frowned at her as he held the door to the Highland Pub open for her. “Are you sure you want to prod the bear? He’s very horny, and it’s making him grumpy. Unlike some people, the bear’s no’ had any relief today.”
It was Donna’s turn to blush. “Talking about yourself in third person, and as a bear, is weird—even for you.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go home than play pool? I have other games in mind that would keep us occupied this afternoon.”
The promise in his eyes made her want to rub herself all over again.
She tore her gaze from his. “Let’s get on with it.”
