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Chapter Sixteen
Ian was lightheaded with relief and exhaustion. After last night, he’d been halfway expecting to find out that Bella was on a train bound for Inverness. This morning he’d had to slip the housemaid a twenty pound note along with a cajoling smile to let him peek in Bella’s room and reassure himself that her belongings were still there. That had been step one.
Making it out of the hotel unseen was next.
Holding Bella in his arms again would be number three. For now, though, it was enough to feel her hand in his and know he hadn’t screwed up so badly she had given up on him.
“You should do it,” he said suddenly.
Bella yawned. “Do what?”
“Write your novel. To hell with being sensible.”
“If that’s supposed to be a pep talk, you suck at it. Finley was the designated screw-up in our family over the years. My job was to be the perfect kid. Being sensible is encoded in my DNA.”
“Finley seems to have landed on his feet rather nicely. Perhaps it’s your turn to be wild and free.”
“I don’t think people can truly change. I am who I am. I did inherit some money, though, when my father passed…Finley and I both. I could take a break from university life and not endanger my financial future.”
“There you go. Problem solved.”
She jumped to her feet. “You engineer types drive me nuts. Life isn’t neat and tidy. You can’t shove every problem into a box and slap a label on it.”
“Are you trying to pick a fight, Bella?” He held up his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. “I’m on your side, I swear.”
She scrunched up her face and rubbed her forehead. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m in a bad mood, I guess.”
“Hangover?”
“Hardly. I’ve never indulged to that extent.”
He gaped at her. “Really?”
“Yep.” She sat back down. “I told you I was the sensible one.”
“Poor baby. I suppose this is all my fault.”
“I’m sorry the paparazzi showed up.” Bella’s sympathy made him squirm inwardly.
He shrugged. “I should be used to it by now.”
“You’re not shy. I know about the stuttering thing, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? It’s as if the reporters have some power over you. I don’t understand it entirely. Do you, Ian? Or is it more of a knee-jerk reaction?”
Well, here it was. Did he tell her the truth? “You’re very perceptive.” It wasn’t an answer to her question.
Evidently, Bella took his equivocation as a rebuff, because she stood up and brushed off the seat of her pants. “I’m going to head back,” she said casually. “I want plenty of time to get fancied up for tonight.”
He reached for her wrist and missed. “Not so fast. I’ll come with you.”
She ignored him and started walking. The first eighth of a mile was precarious. No opportunity for anything but the careful descent. Eventually, the path was wide enough they could walk side by side.
Bella stayed with him physically, but she had withdrawn mentally. She hadn’t misunderstood what just happened. He had tried to keep her out of his messy past, and she was hurt. Damn it. A man didn’t like opening a lot of those painful boxes Bella had mentioned.
“Okay, I’ll tell you,” he muttered.
She stopped dead in the middle of the path and put her hands on her hips. “Forget it. I don’t care.” Her gaze was stormy.
Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her softly. “I’m sorry. I’m not in the habit of airing my dirty laundry. Cut me some slack, please. The thing is…” His throat closed up. Hell. Why did Bella always have to see him at his worst?
