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Chapter 18
For a long moment I wondered if some force within the walls of this small, nondescript house had bewitched me. McKenzie Taylor was smart, focused, and confident. At least that’s what the world thought…what my friends thought.
I’d learned long ago not to reveal my weaknesses. Hayley and Willow believed I had chosen this self-catering cottage because I didn’t like hotels. That was partly true, I suppose. I did like my privacy.
Now, in the midst of an unlikely tropical storm on the Scottish moors, I would give my last dollar to be tucked into the nearest Holiday Inn Express with matchy-matchy art on the walls and plenty of vending machines.
I jumped six inches when a loud pounding at the door startled me out of my mental epiphany. Hurrying across the room, I peeked out the window to see a tall man who bore a striking resemblance to Finley. Behind him a black Jeep sat at a drunken angle. In his arms he held a large blob wrapped in a blanket. A black backpack was slung over his shoulder.
He saw my face and motioned. “Let me in!”
I fumbled with the latch twice before my trembling fingers conquered the mechanism and the door swung wide. The rain was coming sideways now. I jumped back as Finley lurched over the doorstep and stumbled inside, dropping his blanketed load in the process.
With a bark and violent shaking, Cinnamon expressed her disapproval for the indignity to which she’d been subjected. I knelt beside her. “Poor baby. You’re wet and cold.”
Finley wiped a hand across his face. “I wouldn’t get too close if I were you,” he warned. “She got away from me when I tried to put her in the Jeep and now she’s muddy. I wiped off what I could, but she’s not exactly fit to be inside.”
“It doesn’t matter. Let me get the fire going again, and she can sit by the hearth to dry out.”
“Do I merit the same offer?” He smiled, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
My pajamas were thin. My robe was in the bedroom. With my hair tied up in a scraggly knot on top of my head, I found myself at a distinct disadvantage. Finley might be wet and windblown, but at least he was fully clothed.
I folded my arms across my breasts. “What are you doing here, Finley?”
He shrugged out of his heavy rain slicker and hung it on a peg beside the door. “I was worried about you. The roads are virtually impassable now, and the authorities are issuing warnings about landslides.”
I understood what he meant. Much of the landscape was not forested. The green hills had little in the way of root systems to keep the earth in place under conditions like these.
“As you can see, I’m fine. You shouldn’t linger if it’s that bad. You and Cinnamon need to get back to town while you still can.”
I was proud of my speech. Even in pajamas, I gave him my best I’m-in-control imitation. The fact that my words were all a pile of pooh was irrelevant.
Luckily for me, Finley ignored my posturing. He squatted in front of the fireplace and began stacking wood with economical movements that told me he knew what he was doing. Soon the crackling and popping of a roaring blaze filled the room with sound and color and warmth.
Poor Cinnamon must have worn herself out earlier. She was already asleep, curled up with her tail wrapped around her nose. The wretched dog had abandoned me. I could have used a distraction.
“I’m serious, Finley,” I said. “You need to go if it’s that bad.”
He stood and wiped his hands on his pant legs. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”
Well.What was I supposed to say to that?
When I stood there, mute, he came to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry, Duchess.” He kissed my forehead. “I did want to make love to you last night, but when you brought up Vanessa, it made me angry.”
I slipped my arms around his waist and let him hold me closer. “I know. I was wrong to mention it.”
His big frame tensed. If he still felt this much emotion for the woman who had betrayed him, I’d be a fool to get involved.
He shook his head. A mighty sigh rumbled through his chest. I felt the steady ka-thud of his heartbeat, more rapid than it should have been.
“You’ve misunderstood, McKenzie. I didn’t want to make love to you because you reminded me of Vanessa. I wanted you in spite of the physical resemblance. There’s a big difference.”
I flinched inwardly. Did Finley have a type? Being linked in any way with the woman who had been so manipulative of son and father made me uncomfortable. “I understand.” I think.
Though staying in Finley’s embrace would be a lovely antidote to the day’s solitude, I eluded his embrace. Physically. Mentally. “I was almost ready to go to bed when you arrived,” I said. “Thanks to Mrs. Clark, the guest room is ready. Make yourself at home. Do you really think we’re in any danger here?”
As a change of subject, it was clumsy. Finley gave me my space. He shrugged. “Cedric’s cottage has been on this mountainside for decades. So probably not. Though I never underestimate Mother Nature.” He grimaced. “I don’t suppose you have any decaf, do you?”
