AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 16
“It’s late,” I said. “I’m starting to get chilled. Do you mind if we go home?”
“Not at all.”
He must have realized I wasn’t going to press for more details about his love life. Was he glad? Or did he have nothing to hide? It didn’t really matter now. It was pretty clear to me that what happened a decade ago had indelibly shaped both his outlook on life and his attitude toward women.
No wonder he had been so prickly with me when I arrived. With my fancy luggage and couture clothes, he had pigeonholed me immediately. He couldn’t know that the luggage was a dozen years old or that I kept the same classic items of clothing for several years.
I enjoyed fashion. What woman didn’t? Even so, my closet was relatively small. I didn’t collect for the sake of collecting. A few good staple pieces and a handful of jewelry were my usual style.
Without speaking, we stood and began the climb up to Finley’s house. He had left a few lights burning. Their glow welcomed us in the darkness. I would be sad to leave tomorrow. No matter how comfy Cedric’s house became, it would never have the charm of this one, because it wouldn’t have Finley and Cinnamon.
I stumbled going up the steps. Finley grabbed for my elbow automatically and steadied me. In the hushed breath of a passing second, I knew what he was thinking. His grip gentled, and he stepped away…even though I would have bet my last twenty pound note that he wanted me.
“Goodnight, McKenzie,” he said. “I’ll be in shortly and lock up.”
He was playing the civilized host, not taking advantage of our situation. While I appreciated his restraint, I was in a more volatile place. “Do you want me in your bed, Finley?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Don’t be naïve,” he snapped. “You know what I want.” He paused. “Are you sure?” The question was barely audible.
“Sure enough for now,” I said rashly. “This trip to Scotland is supposed to be about enjoying new experiences. I choose you.”
“McKenzie…” He said my name in a hushed whisper that made me tremble. “I’d be a fool to say no.”
“I have it on good authority that you’re a very intelligent man. We don’t have to overthink this. I’m spreading my wings. Getting out of a rut. I know what I’m doing, I swear. You don’t have to worry I’ll be underfoot every time you turn around. That’s not my style.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you were,” he said mildly as he ruffled his fingers through my hair.
When his big, warm hands settled on my bare shoulders, something happened to me. I don’t know if it was the moon or the dancing or the fact that I was deep in the Scottish Highlands, but I succumbed to some kind of spell. The world fell away bit by bit until all I knew was Finley.
The way he touched me—so hungry and yet so sweet. The sound of his breathing, harsh and ragged. The dampness of the skin at the back of his neck when I caressed the place where his hair met his collar.
My brain shut down, at least the portion that contained reason and logic. All I could do was feel and feel and feel. In my ballet flats, I was small and defenseless. Finley was tall and strong and unmistakably masculine. “Take me inside,” I pleaded. Before I change my mind. I couldn’t even blame my reckless decision on alcohol. I was stone cold sober.
Finley scooped me into his arms. For a man who insisted that life wasn’t a romance novel, he damned sure acted like a storybook hero. I rested my cheek against his collarbone and pressed my hand over his heart.
Time lost all meaning. Cradled in Finley’s embrace, I was content to drift as he locked the door and carried me upstairs. He bypassed my room and went on to his. Unfortunately, our romantic moment ground to a halt when we heard Cinnamon barking mournfully in the distance.
“Damned dog.” Finley sighed.
I knew he didn’t mean it. A man in certain situations is hard pressed to focus on anything other than the mission at hand. I kissed his cheek. “Go take her out. I’ll wait. It’s okay.”
Finley set me on my feet and disappeared. In the distance I could hear the interaction between man and dog before they went outside. Given a reprieve to assess the situation, I smiled ruefully. I wasn’t going to back out now. This encounter was no adrenaline-fueled decision in the heat of the moment. I knew what I was doing. And I knew the risk I was taking.
Finley Craig was the kind of man who broke hearts.
He was wary. Cynical. Distrustful of women in general.
Unfortunately, he was exactly what I wanted.
I sat on the edge of the bed and tested the mattress with my hand. Finley’s bed was as beautiful as the man himself. The wooden frame and headboard were simple and stunning, the oak polished with the sheen of long use. I wondered if it was an antique. The room was almost monastic in its simplicity. A single dresser occupied one wall. A more modern entertainment armoire faced the bed.
The walls were painted the palest of greens, the color of light in a summer forest. The single large window was flanked with raw linen draperies. Everything was perfectly neat. Did the housekeeper work this magic? Or was the complicated man with the painful past in need of a peaceful place to unwind at the end of a long day?
I had assumed Finley would hurry Cinnamon outside and back in again quickly. Perhaps the dog was being contrary. Or maybe Finley was rethinking our rash tumble into bed. It hurt to imagine that some of his caution might be in regard to me. I was rich and blond and moderately attractive. Certainly not gorgeous. My chin was too strong for classical female beauty. And I’d never been thin since I went through puberty.
Still, it was clear that who I was triggered some kind of post-traumatic stress for Finley. I reminded him of a time in his life he’d rather forget.
