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There’s no longer a question of what to do with her; she must leave this house.
I either have to come clean with the boys…
Or do something I really cannae imagine doing.
Chapter Seventeen
Kitt
“Aha! There it is. Exactly what I need!” I pull up the file, an old article about fishing practices from long ago here on the island. My foot taps with impatience as I wait for my dinosaur of a computer to load. I give her out-of-date tan top a pat. “It’s okay, girl. You’re not as flashy as a MacBook but you’re working just as hard, aren’t you?”
God, how I miss my pretty pink MacBook. And my phone. And my friends. But I’m starting to love it here, too. I glance out the window at the view I could never tire of looking at. A little shiver dances through me thinking of what happened on those hills.
Experiencing all these sensual firsts with a man, your entire body coming alive—well, there’s not much you can compare it to, is there?
I’m so over thinking about the unfairness of how I came to be in this situation, wrong place at the wrong time, then trying to do what I thought was the right thing. I’m weary from debating the Scottish law versus the Bayne laws out here. I’m worn out from worrying over my own past, things I’ve done.
So, I bake, I cook, I read, I walk the hills and the seashore alongside him at night, and I wait for him to touch me again. He’s kept me at arm’s length ever since I told him I was a virgin, like a man wearing a Hula-Hoop around his waist, orbiting around me. But I don’t give up hope on finding out more about this mysterious world of pleasure between a man and a woman.
I guess you might say I’m developing a crush. On my enemy? But take any sane, virgin woman, chase her down, and put a hot tongue between her thighs and?—
Is it hot in here? I must need more milk in my tea. I grab my mug, pattering off to the kitchen for a fresh cup.
While I’m waiting, I work. Regardless of my current situation, I find the island healing to me. I’m determined to give back. To find a way to protect this beautiful landscape while restoring the way of life of the people who have lived here so long.
And I’m almost certain I’m on the brink of something good. A plan that won’t only help the people but help myself as well. Maybe even make me valuable enough to earn my freedom.
I stand at the counter, my hip leaning against the wood countertops as if they were my own, waiting for the electric kettle to boil.
There’s a knock at the front door. Strange. Bayne would never knock on his own door, and he hasn’t told me he’s expecting anyone to come while he’s at work.
With the way he watches me—never letting me get more than two steps ahead of him on our nightly walks—I highly doubt he would send someone here when I’m home alone.
For a moment, I stand there, frozen, knowing how isolated I am in these hills, surrounded by sea and sheep and the aforementioned ponies I have yet to see. The knock comes again, soft, unintrusive. I don’t know what to do other than answer the door.
Maybe after this, Bayne will be convinced to give me my phone back so I can at least contact him while he’s gone. Funny, he’s so protective but has overlooked the fact that I have no way of calling him if there is a knock on my door in the middle of the day.
His ego has failed him.
“Coming!” I don’t feel fear as I make my way toward the door, my gut telling me I’m going to be fine. Maybe Fiona and Carol Ann have finally worked up the courage to sneak over. Surely they’ve heard from their watchful brothers that Bayne has been spending his days at the Bayne-Burnes house, the Kings’ Castle, attending to horse matters.
There’s no side window to peek out of, no peephole blemishing the smooth wood of his front door. I grip the handle, suddenly unsure if I’m making the right choice. But I want that phone. If I just tell him someone knocked, he might not believe me. I need to share more details.
“Hello?” I open the door, knowing it’s going to reveal Fiona’s smile and Carol Ann’s purple-and-black hair.
“Ah! Ms. Catherine. Exactly the face I was hoping to see.” His voice booms, echoing through the foyer.
And the last face I was expecting. “Oh. Um… hi there. Long time no see?”
He narrows his bushy gray brows at me. “I’d heard you made your way back to sunny California. Couldn’t handle our chilly summers.”
“No,” I smile, shaking my head. “I’m still here. But you know how easy it is for a rumor to get around the island.”
“I do.” He looks behind me, deeper into the house. “May I come in?”
I hesitate, my hand still on the door handle. “Um… Mr. Bayne’s not here right now. I’m not sure he’d want me to have guests.”
Scratch that. I know for a fact he wouldn’t want me to have anyone stepping foot in this house, much less the man investigating his crimes. He wouldn’t have even wanted me to come to the door in the first place.
