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Chapter 4
Reluctance oozed from his posture. I’d pissed off my one and only rescuer. Way to go, McKenzie.
Summoning a conciliatory tone, I managed a smile. Though I was exhausted and cold and depressed because my trip was off to such a dismal start, I wasn’t about to let this sharp-edged stranger witness my weakness. “I’m renting a cottage for the month. It must be nearby. According to my directions, I’m on the right route.”
“I should hope so. There’s only one main road here on the east side. Which cottage? What’s the family’s name?”
“I corresponded with a Mr. Cedric McCracken. He sent a key. I picked it up at the post office in Inverness.” I reached in my pocket and extracted the small item as if physical proof would bolster my case. “See.” I held out my hand.
“Hmph…”
The utterly masculine response worried me. There seemed to be a lot he wasn’t saying. “Could you possibly take me there?” I asked, casting my pride to the wind. I believed a woman could and should be self-sufficient. This was a time to be realistic.
“Aye. I’ll take you. At least you’re wearing pants. ’Twill make the trip easier.”
The pantsto which he referred so dismissively were Chanel and matched my jacket. “Thank you very much,” I replied, my tone grateful. “What should I do about my luggage?”
“If it’s just the one suitcase, I’ll come back for it and tie it to the rear of the bike. That will do for a short trip.”
“Um…”
“What?”
I sensed his irritation. Perhaps he was miffed at being kept out in the chilly weather when he could be home by the fire. “Three cases in the trunk,” I said. “Plus, my purse and carry-on. I can hold those two,” I said quickly. I wanted him to know I was a team player.
“Three?” The word sounded strangled. As if he were trying not to laugh.
“I’m staying for a month. I like my creature comforts.” It wasn’t as if I could pop over to the nearest Duane Reade for personal items.
“You’ll have to figure out the suitcases on your own tomorrow,” he said bluntly. “I can tie the small bag behind us if you have your purse on your shoulder. You’ll need to hang onto me. The road up to the McCracken house is in bad shape.”
“You know it?” That seemed like a good sign. At least I hadn’t rented a non-existent building from some scam artist.
He nodded. “I’ve been in it a time or two. Not for a year or more, though. Let’s go.”
Again, the impatience. Just my luck. The first interesting man I’d met in Scotland showed no inclination to shower me with attention and devotion. Where was a Jamie Fraser when you needed one?
“Of course,” I said meekly. I wasn’t about to ruffle this man’s feathers. Though they were particularly gorgeous feathers, I’d be willing to bet that beneath all that supple black leather he wasn’t soft at all.
I was prepared to fish for my belongings in the upended car. Before I could do it, my dark knight in shining armor hitched himself up and delved for what I needed. Where I had been clumsy and panting exiting the car, my mystery man made the whole exercise seem effortless.
He handed me my purse without speaking and turned to fasten my carry-on above the back fender of the motorcycle. “That should do it,” he said. “Climb on. I don’t have a passenger helmet, but we’re not going far.”
“Wait,” I said. “I don’t even know your name.”
He fastened his chinstrap and slung a leg across the huge Harley. I knew zip about motorcycles, but I could read the logo easily enough.
When he was ready—and me still standing nearby metaphorically wringing my hands—he shot me a look. “Finley Craig. Now get on the damn bike.”
“Yes, sir.” Disgruntled, I put the strap of my purse crosswise over my chest. I didn’t want to risk dropping it. Gingerly, I mounted behind Finley, found the spots to rest my feet, and encircled his waist with my arms.
Oh, my. He was a furnace, warming my chilled limbs and making me want to burrow against his back. Instead, I did just the opposite. I kept my spine straight and any cuddling tendencies to myself.
My hands at his waist had a death grip on his leather jacket.
“Hold on,” he said. He fired the powerful engine, and we were off.
What happened next was difficult to describe. In some ways, it was like the wrenching sensation Claire Randall described when she stepped through a stone circle and vanished back in time. The world spun dizzily. With my eyes closed, I clung to my rescuer. The whole spine-straight thing was impractical at best. I rested my cheek against Finley’s back.
